“What are you thinking, Wals?”
Looking at Mato, Wals tried to explain so he could understand. “Whenever knights of old went into battle, they always had a flag, a banner, if you will, flying in front of them, to lead the way and give them courage. This flag sounds like it would be pretty easy to see if we set it up in front of us.” He looked back at the couple when he thought about the violence of the vortex. “I don’t know if it would get ruined, though. I can’t make any promises one way or the other. Do you think we should take the chance?”
There was an immediate response. “Yes, if it will help Wolf.”
“What do you think? Do you think Adam will give it to us, then?”
That was the million dollar question for Lance. When that first Hidden Mickey quest had ended, he hadn’t parted on friendly terms with Adam and Beth due to his own stupidity. It literally had taken years before Adam spoke to him again—even after Adam’s silent attendance at Lance and Kimberly’s wedding. Now, at this point, tensions had eased, but Lance still wasn’t sure he had totally regained his friend’s confidence. The couples split babysitting and play dates between them and seemed to be on good terms—at least from appearances.
“I can ask.” That was all Lance could promise as he glanced at the clock. “He should be off the construction site by now.” Going over to the phone, he dialed the well-known number.
At the end of the second day, Wals found Mato on the edge of Lance’s property, staring out over the brightly lit valley below. Situated high in the foothills of Fullerton, the house had a stunning view.
Mato didn’t seem impressed by the view. He seemed sad as he gave a broad sweep with his hand. “People. All people.” Used to his small village, there had been only the few soldiers that used to be posted in Fort Wilderness, and he rarely went to the outskirts of New Orleans or Rainbow Ridge. Mato had a hard time with the fact that so many people lived together like that, seemingly crammed right next to each other. He had likewise been unimpressed with Wals’ apartment in Huntington Beach where people literally lived on top of someone else, each in their own small box. The ocean had awed him, having never traveled to the far side of New Orleans where the ships came in. But the fast pace with all the cars, buses, trucks, and trains, with the people always on the move and always in a hurry, frustrated him. While it had been somewhat interesting at first, now all he wanted to do was go home to his family.
But, he realized he couldn’t. They still had to help Wolf. With a sinking feeling, he knew there would be more new sensations and locations with which he would have to deal. Wals had shown him drawings, highly detailed pictures of what he might expect in the time where Wolf was waiting for him. There were no noisy machines there, he was relieved to see. Horses provided transportation. But men wore shiny metal over their body for protection. He recognized the spears and arrows and knew he could hold his own against those. But the huge, towering castles looked intimidating. How could anyone escape from there if they were locked inside? The flimsy wooden doors of Wals’ time seemed pitifully inadequate for protection. The castle, however, looked fortified with its thicker walls and doors.
As the night sky deepened, Wals told Mato it was time to go. Kimberly would have Sleeping Beauty Castle shut down around nine. When the fireworks show began overhead, they would have the perfect diversion they needed.
Going into the house, Mato spoke to his hostess in English the way Peter had coached him. “Thank you for the food.”
“I want to go!” Peter let out a plaintive whine when he saw the men were leaving for good.
Remembering the fireball that had swept over their heads when Wals left, Kimberly clutched him to her side. “Sorry, sweetie. Not this time. Say good-bye to Uncle Mato.”
“Lakota men do not say good-bye,” he told her seriously. “They say doka.”
Hearing the familiar word, Mato turned back and held his arms out to the boy. Peter ran to him for a final hug.
“You go get Uncle Wolf!” Peter told him, muffled in the tight embrace. “You bring him back safe!”
“Yes, I will, little one.”
“Aŋpétu wašté yuhá po.”
To everyone’s surprise, Mato burst out laughing. He put a kind hand on Peter’s head. “I will try to have nice day, little one.” He nodded once to Kimberly and silently followed Lance and Wals to the waiting Mustang.
Dressed in his security uniform, Lance had no trouble getting the two men, both curiously dressed as princes, into the closed Castle. Mato had balked at the tights and puffy shirt that was handed to him in the Costume Department, but knew he had to comply. Scowling, he was lead into the darkened, small castle and up the stone stairs. Not even glancing at the animated windows of the Walkthrough diorama, he kept his mind focused on what he needed to do to help his brother Wolf. That was all that mattered to him now that the time to go was at hand.
When Wals finally stopped in front of a door that looked like all the others they had passed, he simply nodded, knowing what was coming and what he had to do.
Lance gave them a hurried good-bye and ran down the stairs to be safely out of the way of the vortex. It had been too close for comfort on the edge of the River. He would rather take his chance outside with the raining residue of the fireworks than what he knew was going to happen inside.
Only Lance heard the mournful howl that drifted down the stairwell. Only he knew that the pinkish glow in the upper windows didn’t come from the brilliant displays that burst overhead.
And only he, out of all of the hundreds of people on Main Street who watched the fireworks, silently wished the two men inside the Castle a safe, successful journey.
England — 1289
“Nata mitawa yazo.”
“I don’t know what you said, but I agree with all my heart…that is, if I could just get my heart beating again.” Wals rolled over onto his back in the sand, one arm covered his eyes. “Oh, my head hurts.”
“That’s what I said.” Mato groaned as he bent to pick up the green velvet hat that had fallen off his head when the vortex dumped them onto the beach. As he looked at the limp white feather that was now bent in half, he said something unpleasant in an undertone as he crammed the worthless covering back on his head.
“And I don’t even want to know what you just said.” Wals managed a small smile when he saw the rakish angle of the hat. As an afterthought, he gingerly reached up to his head for two reasons. One: to see if his own hat had made the transition to this time period. And, two: to see if his head was actually still attached to his body. Based on the way he felt, he wouldn’t have bet any money on either one.
Ignoring Wals for the moment, Mato walked a few steps away to allow his keen senses take over. Eyes closed, the groans behind him blocked, he could distinguish no sounds other than the ebb and flow of the waves that calmly lapped on the shore, a few sea birds overhead, and the distant, usual noises of a busy forest at midday. With a silent wish that he had his brother’s sharp eyesight, he gave the deserted beach a long stare in each direction. His glance lingered on the darkened coves hidden between the huge boulders that divided their part of the beach from the forest, but, seeing no movements other than a crab scuttling for cover, he turned back to his companion.
“Wašté?” Wals ventured to ask his question in Lakota when it looked like Mato was done with whatever it was that he had been doing.
“Yes, it seems good.” He suddenly broke into a broad smile when he realized Wals had actually used the correct word in his language. The smile transformed his whole face from the serious, stern warrior he was into the handsome prince he was dressed to portray. “You spoke well.”
Pleased by the compliment, Wals let it go to his head. “I think I should try talking to you only in Lakota from now on.”
“Tókhi wániphika ní.” Mato hid his smile and didn’t translate. Good luck with that. “No, here I’ll speak like you. Better for you. Maybe they think you are my misun.”
“Your little brot
her?” Wals looked up at the dark brave who stood at least a head taller than him and was much wider in the shoulders. Mato’s raven hair and eyes were no match for his brown hair and green eyes. Giving a light laugh, Wals nodded and held up two fingers that were intertwined. “Yeah, it’s just like looking into a mirror.”
“You have orange wowapi safe?”
If Mato hadn’t used the word orange, Wals would have had no idea what he was talking about. “The flag? Is that wowapi?”
Not wanting to get into a discussion of language right now, Mato curtly nodded. “Safe or not?”
Wals felt underneath his soaked embroidered doublet and the puffy-sleeved shirt beneath it. Protected by a plastic bag, the valuable flag was securely tied to Wals’ chest with twine. Lance had at first, of course, suggested duct tape, but Kimberly’s had stepped in, and calmer heads prevailed. She reminded Lance that the plastic bag would be difficult enough to explain if seen in that time without the modernistic, gray vinyl tape adding to the potential problem. Plus, she—and Lance—well knew what the effect would be of pulling the sticky duct tape off Wals’ hair-covered chest.
“Let’s go to Wolf now.” Now that Wals seemed to be recovered from the time shift and Mato knew the flag was safe, the time for pleasantries was over. Mato wanted to get moving. He was more worried about his brother than he had let on—either to Wals or to his father. In the times Wolf had come back to their village disoriented, he had snarled and snapped at Mato, even turned on him a few time. But, never, even in his darkest moments, had Wolf ever threatened to kill him. That was completely out of Wolf’s being, his character. Mato knew this condition of his brother’s was more serious than any he had ever faced before. Bow in hand, deep in thought, he went to collect the arrows that had been scattered over the beach and returned them to his quiver. He had the sinking feeling he would need every one of them before this trip was over.
The sand brushed off his blue tights and tunic, Wals adjusted his red cape, attempting to drape it neatly over his shoulders. He reached down to make sure he still had the small dagger he had tucked into one of his boots. While he repositioned the elaborate sword that hung by his side, he silently gave thanks that it hadn’t pierced him when they were violently thrown onto the beach. It would have been tragic for either one of them to get injured in an accident before the real fight even began.
Knowing well the path to the village he had used when he was here before, Wals lead the way through the forest and headed to the small rooms he had lived in behind the tavern. As they strode along the narrow, almost invisible path, the bright midday sun became more and more obscured the deeper they went into the forest. Now plodding through deep shadows and thick underbrush, deep in thought, Wals failed to notice any of this. Watching only his feet on the trail in front of him, he silently wondered how he would let Rose know he was back. Then the thought struck him that she probably hadn’t even realized he had been gone, let alone returned. He gave a sudden dry chuckle. I wonder what would happen if I just went up and knocked on that secret door into the castle.
A few steps behind, Mato heard the laugh Wals had given, but paid it no heed. He knew he needed to keep fully alert as they walked. This forest was in some ways similar to his woods back home, but yet, it was very different. He could hear small common noises like the birdcalls from one tree to another, and the familiar chirping of squirrels as they shook their tails at the intruders and dove out of sight into their protective holes in the trees. Then there were larger noises, like a deer crashing through the brush as it fled from the frightening scent of man. However, there was another, softer sound he detected that made him pause just for a mere moment. Eyes narrowed, he recognized this also as a sound familiar to him—the careful placement of pawed feet as they tried to avoid snapping twigs or clusters of dried leaves and acorns. This almost-silent movement, however, had not gained on them, nor had it fallen back. It expertly kept pace with the two men, a little off to their left. Mato tried to catch their scent, but the followers—for he could now tell that there was more than one—were downwind. Instinctively knowing it was not his brother, Mato kept his head forward, not daring to turn in that direction. He didn’t want to give any indication that he knew they were being shadowed. Glancing at Wals’ back, he decided he didn’t need to alarm his companion at this point. Not exactly sure how many were in the pack that followed them, Mato knew the lack of aggressiveness on the part of these predators was to his benefit for the time being. If they would just stay at bay for a little while longer, Wals would hopefully arrive at their destination. There would be another, better time to face this unseen enemy than here and now.
Yes, Mato thought, this wilderness was much like the one at home. Yet it felt older, much older. He could also sense an eerie presence that wafted in the light breeze, one that made the hairs on the back of his neck tingle. There were also secrets here. Deep, dark secrets—ones he wasn’t so sure he wanted to uncover.
“Ah, I see your little friend is back, Wolf.” Pleased with her discovery, Nimue purred as she stroked the huge black head as Wolf sat next to her throne. “And it looks like he brought a playmate. How delightful!” She glanced up at the frozen, grotesque faces of the gargoyles that capped off the columns holding up the roof. The open-mouth expressions on all their faces betrayed the terror of their unexpected demise. “I can always use a few more ornaments once you bring me their heads.”
His eyes now totally glazed over from her ongoing powerful spell, Wolf merely sat, and allowed her touch. In this entranced state, he didn’t even glance over when she spoke to him to see what she meant or who it was that she could see. He just sat there, numb, as he waited for his next command.
Chuckling smugly at Wolf’s docile compliance, she turned her head to gaze deeper into the green orb on her armrest. Through the eyes of one of her wolves as they kept pace with the steadily moving pair, she had a clear view of Wals and this newcomer as they made their way through the forest. Wals seemed to be his usual blundering, unseeing self. But, the other one…. Intrigued, she leaned closer to the glowing sphere to stare at the broad back of the tall, dark one. The fake trappings of a prince that he wore were ignored as she studied the man himself, the way he moved effortlessly through the trees. She thought she could detect a sort of tenseness about his shoulders, the way his head moved slightly toward the position of their followers and then immediately back again. It was then that she let out a small, delighted gasp. He knows. He knows the two of them are being followed! “This could be more fun than I imagined. A worthy adversary, perhaps, my pet?” Her murmured words brought no emotion to the uncaring wolf.
“Shall I go kill them now, Madam?”
“Oh, that’s a good boy,” she cooed, patting the top of his head. “No, no. We don’t want to do that just yet. I want to see what they do once they get settled and are able to relax a bit in the village. Let them get off-guard, you know. I think the best time will be when they’re with the girl again. Yes, my pet, then…then we shall strike.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“I’ve seen enough for now.” Happy now, she removed her tapered fingernail from the orb. “Call the pack to return, wolf. I don’t want those mindless beasts of mine to get caught up in the hunt. Those idiots could spoil all my fun by carelessly attacking before we’re ready and in position to really enjoy it.”
With a great effort, as if he was underwater, Wolf slowly pulled himself to his feet. Ever obedient, he trotted to the entry of the throne room and turned to face the unseen endless forest below him. Tilting his head back, he let out a commanding howl. This call was different than the ones he used to summon the portals. The spell over him picked up the howl to dispatch it on a sudden, stiff breeze and it echoed over the four corners of the kingdom. Loud enough, all creatures under the Evil Fairy’s control would hear it and obey that ungodly command.
Deep in the forest, Wals and Mato paused as the eerie, haunting, disturbing sound drifted over them. Quickly putting a determi
ned hand on his sword’s hilt, Wals turned in a slow circle, instantly alert and ready, all his musings forgotten. But, there was nothing different for him to see. No movement, no other sounds. Even the birds had gone silent There was nothing except the sound of his heart that pounded violently in his chest.
Mato’s eyes narrowed as he listened, careful as he looked back over his shoulder to see if their followers were now making their advance. As the last note faded into the distance, he came to realize that their trackers were gone. Mato turned back to his companion, and muttered that the howl must have called them off.
Confused by Mato’s statement, Wals looked back at him, still wary. “Called who off?”
“Oh.” Mato hadn’t realized he had said it out loud. “We were being followed by wolves. Sorry.”
Surprised, Wals’ mouth dropped open as he fully withdrew his sword, his eyes scanning the shadows around them once more. “What? You didn’t tell me? I need to know these things!”
Mato merely looked at Wals and grunted, and gave him a one-shoulder shrug so like his brother. There was no need for any explanation at this point as he indicated for Wals to put his sword away and get on the move again.
Head up and alert, Mato silently followed. He had other, more important things to worry about than Wals’ feelings.
His own heart now beat heavily in his chest, but for a different reason than Wals’. Unlike his companion, he had recognized the call that had floated over and around them. It was one that he hadn’t heard in a long, long time. Commanding, powerful, and angry, it was the same sound he had heard just once before. Wolf had suddenly appeared out of nowhere and turned on him, lost in the effects of the time vortex and out of his head. The howl that had just floated over them been tinged with the same madness Wolf had battled before.
Wolf! Happily Ever After? Page 17
