Shepherd's Wolf

by M. Andrew Reid

  Today, however, Grave did not feel like trying his luck. He knew that in a stand-up fight Viper would win every time. Grave was Pariah, a class that relied on stealth, poisons, illusions, and traps to win fights. An open plain such as this was his last choice for a battleground.

  So he recalled to Gilgal.

  Grave vanished, and Flame cut through the air where he had been an instant before. Viper threw Frost in frustration, freezing a circle of grass that crunched as he walked over to retrieve the axe. He let out a low whistle, and Venom - who had stopped to watch - came running.

  …

  The man in shining armor hopped onto the saddle behind Laura and galloped back to the hillside where he had grabbed her. His spear was sticking straight up where it had driven into the chestpiece of its target. He leaned over to retrieve the spear, and lowered Laura to the ground. Her backpack was still sitting on the grass as if nothing had happened.

  She met the man’s eyes with her own, “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you.” He grinned. The horse reared up and thundered away, radiant feathers sparkling in the sunlight.

  Laura’s hand went up to her neck. Her camera was gone.

  The Shepherd’s Farm

  “You’re as big as a horse, right?” Ben looked up at Gabe.

  The wolf sat on his haunches and looked down at Ben. Their stalemate took place inside the huge barn that Ben used as a workshop. Sunlight streamed in through the large open door, dappling the ground with patches of light and shade. Ben set his jaw, “So why won’t you let me put this saddle on you?”

  Gabe grunted and took step back, shaking its head.

  “Come on!” Ben lifted the large leather saddle and took a step toward the wolf.

  Gabe took the saddle in his massive jaws and threw it against the barn wall, knocking a set of tongs and other tools off their pegs. Then, Gabe sat back on his haunches in triumph.

  “Fine. I’ll just hop on then,” Ben grabbed a hunk of white fur on Gabe’s neck and used it to pull himself up.

  With a playful growl, Gabe bucked around the barn like a bronco. Ben held on tight to keep from falling off. Pieces of armor and weapons fell from the walls as Gabe spun and bucked.

  “Outside!” Ben shouted. The wolf complied.

  They flew from the barn and into the woods around Ben’s cottage. Trees, roots, and rocks passed by, blending into solid streaks of brown, green, and gray. Wind tore at Ben’s clothes as the wolf bounded ever faster.

  Ben gripped the snow-white fur on Gabe’s back, but he still felt himself lifted up by the wind. He dug his knees into Gabe’s ribs as hard as he could, trying desperately to shout for Gabe to slow down. The words were ripped from his mouth before they could be formed. Gabe ran on, oblivious to the plight of his rider.

  Finally, the wolf stopped - panting hard, tongue lolling out of his mouth. They had come to a halt on a ridge overlooking the broad green plains. Hundreds of feet below them, herds of stiltmen, hurnts, and good old-fashioned cows grazed on the thick grass; a flock of tiny dragons fluttered by, skimming the ridge.

  Gabe’s ears perked up, and the wolf cocked his head to one side. Then, Ben heard it too. Someone was sobbing in the woods.

  Ben turned back to the trees, and saw a figure sitting against a tree trunk about fifty feet away. A girl sat sobbing; her back was turned to them. Gabe padded up to the tree, his footsteps barely audible over the hiss of wind in the branches.

  “Um, hi,” Ben mumbled quietly.

  “Whoa!” the girl turned around and held her breath when she looked into Gabe’s blue eyes. Her face turned red, “Winking horses, knights in shiny armor that turn out to be thieves, and now an enormous wolf with the voice of a kid is saying hi to me. Why would any sane person want to play this messed up game?”

  “Up here.” Ben waved, “I’m Ben.”

  “Oh,” the girl said, standing up and brushing off her dress. “I’m Laura,” she pointed at Gabe. “Is he, uh she- is that safe?”

  “I think so,” Ben replied. “Why are you crying?”

  “I’m not crying; I’m just mad. I had a project and I needed a camera and he took it and now I’m screwed.”

  “Who took it?”

  “Some guy in this weird-colored armor with white feathers on his arms and helmet. Some other freaks were trying to take it too but he killed them and took it instead.”

  “You talk really fast,” Ben said.

  “Thanks, I need that kind of support right now.”

  “What was the camera for?”

  “I’m working on my graduate degree. I’m doing my thesis on evolution based on information gathered from Verdia. The animals here seem to follow evolutionary patterns similar to how...”

  Gabe yawned, revealing rows of shiny white fangs. Ben’s eyes glazed over.

  Laura bit her lip in frustration, “Okay, I talk fast and I’m boring. Anything else you want to heap onto the pile of crap that’s happened to me today? Would you like to point out any gaping personality flaws that I can work on while I’m pulling night shifts at some dive restaurant so I can do another semester and have a shot at graduating now?”

  Gabe took a step forward and slid his giant tongue up Laura’s face, trailing warm wolf saliva. His bushy white tail wagged with pride.

  “It’s not real, it’s not real,” Laura repeated to herself as she wiped the wolf spit off, shuddering.

  “What’s not real?” Ben asked.

  “This whole place. What did you think I was talking about?” Laura replied.

  “Oh, yeah,” Ben laughed nervously.

  Laura sighed, “I’m never getting my camera back. I needed those pictures.”

  “Why can’t you get it back?” Ben asked.

  “The Dalton people said I only get one. It’s one of Omni’s rules.”

  Ben smiled, “Well hop on, Laura. I have a friend who breaks Omni’s rules all the time.”

  “I have to ride on a wolf now?” Laura was horrified.

  “He’ll go easy on you. I think.”

  “You think?”

  “Well, this is the first time I’ve ridden him.”

  …

  Viper reclined on a hillside. Venom grazed beside him; her black tail swatted at Verdian flies. He played with his new toy; it would allow him to upload pictures to the Internet, which was a feature blatantly missing from any other device in the game.

  The rumors had been true: the girl with the camera really was foolish enough to walk around unprotected. If Viper had arrived ten seconds later, Grave would have beaten him. The fact that Grave had lost the race actually made him happier than getting the camera.

  He brought the camera up and looked through the viewfinder, zooming in as far as it would go. He made a broad sweep of the skyline. The camera clicked as he took several pictures. Viper turned to Venom, “Smile babe.” The horse rolled her big brown eyes and kept munching at the grass.

  “Time to go home. I’ve got some stuff in the real world to take care of,” Viper put the camera around his neck and climbed onto the saddle. He raised an arm to the sky, and soon he was enveloped in dark purple flame. When the flame subsided, nothing remained.

  Chapter 7

  Huntress

  Pembroke Manor

  Cardiff, Wales

  “I’m sorry Nat, but I won’t be home for your birthday. There is too much going on in New York right now.”

  Natalie Pembroke frowned at her father’s image hovering in space above her. She knew what he really meant was that there were tons of parties to go to and expensive art that needed buying. She toyed with her red hair and stared blankly at her father’s face.

  “I’ll get you an extra nice present and mail it to you, okay? Good night darling.”

  Natalie’s violet eyes flicked around her room - a room already filled with extra nice presents. Exotic gifts from around the world, jewelry, and works of art adorned her bedroom. But the room still felt empty. It had always felt empty. Natalie had seen her parents,
what? Five days this year?

  Six. She looked at her holographic calendar. Six days out of three hundred and sixty five she had seen her parents. It had been Christmas. Now, they would not even be there for her birthday.

  “Three cheers for sixteen,” Natalie sighed and left her room.

  The halls of Pembroke Manor stretched on like empty highways - bright, richly decorated catacombs. Like a Pharaoh’s tomb, the manor held wealth and beauty beyond belief, but was ultimately devoid of warmth and life. Natalie passed one of the maids and gave her a tight smile.

  “Evenin’ marm,” the maid nodded and continued her work. Her kids would get to see her tonight when her shift was over. There was also a pretty good chance that she would make time for her children on their birthdays.

  Natalie continued down the broad hallway, and stopped in front of a heavy oak door. This was the door to Natalie’s favorite room of dozens in her house - the room she entered to get away. In this room, by herself, she was never alone. She turned the knob, opened the thick door, and stepped inside.

  YOU ARE WAKING UP

  YOU ARE WAKING UP

  YOU ARE WAKING UP

  …

  Athena opened her piercing violet eyes and sat up. Dawn’s rosy fingers were barely poking through the thick cover of leaves. The forest floor was illuminated by the dreamy blue glow of fluorescent moss that covered the tree trunks and stones. Glowbugs flitted around as lazily as fireflies do in the real world, but a tad brighter and more blue than yellow. Overhead, a canopy of tangled leaves and branches was so dense that the forest was in a state of perpetual twilight.

  Athena’s fur was as red as Natalie’s hair, her eyes the same violet she inherited from her mother. She was an Agilus Huntress - adept at surviving in the wild and ranged combat. Her bow lay beside her. Next to it rested a quiver full of arrows with bright yellow fletching. Watching over all of this - perched on a tree root that arched out of the ground - was a large hawk, nearly three feet tall.

  “Good morning, Fletch,” the hawk often donated his feathers to make Athena’s arrows, so his name was fitting.

  Fletch was a wasphawk. His belly was a dull gray, but his back and wings were bright yellow with black stripes. These brilliant feathers were often sacrificed to make Athena’s arrows. Fortunately, like most things in Verdia, they grew back quickly.

  Fletch let out a loud shriek and took to the air, his booster wings buzzing loudly. He buzzed in a circle around Athena’s head. Shrill, impatient cries bounced off the tree trunks throughout the forest.

  “Okay. We’re going. Let me get my things,” Athena stood up and flicked her ears. She was wearing tough leather armor dyed a dark green. A dark cape with a hood fastened around her neck. A belt around her waist held a long knife in a sheath, as well as other tools of the hunting trade. She slung the quiver over her back and picked up her longbow.

  Athena trotted down a barely visible path while Fletch fluttered behind. Occasionally, dim shadows would move in the distance; forest creatures going about their lives among the trees. The forest was bathed in milky blue light from a moss that covered nearly everything. Athena moved as silently as the wind, and Fletch used only his primary set of wings, keeping the noisy boosters tucked close to his body.

  The pair came to a clearing in the wood. Light burst through the tear in the canopy, shining on a single tree. Ancient and twisted - devoid of leaves – it appeared ready to fall in a slight breeze. Brighter days and happier times had seen this tree.

  Athena stepped up to the tree and sighed. She stooped to pick up a dried leaf from the multitude that littered the ground. She crumbled it to dust in her clawed fingers.

  “I am here,” Athena stated calmly.

  A weak cough came from inside the tree, “Who is here?”

  Athena responded with impatience, “I am Athena the Huntress. We talked last night.”

  “Ahh yes,” the voice hacked again. There was some scratching from within the tree, and a small furry creature, about the size of a small dog, gingerly crawled from a hole in the trunk. It walked on its four hind legs, grasping at twigs with the other pair to steady itself - a bizarre mix of monkey and squirrel. The creature sighed and sat down on the branch in front of Athena’s face.

  “I am the Keeper of this Grove...”

  “I know,” Athena interrupted. “You told me last night.”

  The little creature crossed his arms and continued, “I am the Keeper of this Grove. It is my duty to watch for any danger that would harm this peaceful forest. As you can see from my home, all is not well in my...”

  “You told me last night,” Athena was growing even more impatient.

  “Look,” the Keeper coughed several times, hacking much louder than something his size should have been able to, and frightening some nearby birds into flight, “believe me when I say I want you to help me as quickly as possible. You should try living in a dying tree. But it’s my job to explain the quest to anyone who is eligible. It’s not my fault that you took the quest last night then signed off. You should know how this works by now. Let me finish my spiel, and you can get to killing.” A few more coughs.

  “Continue then,” Athena sighed.

  The Keeper turned and waved a paw at the forest, which looked sickly and pale in comparison to the woods behind Athena, “Something dark is spreading through my forest. My trees are tainted, the animals are corrupted. I’ve been coughing up green stuff all morning.”

  “Gross.”

  “Yes, Huntress, it is gross. I need your help,” the creature wheezed. “I am not big enough or strong enough to make the journey, but I believe the problem is coming from a dark temple. At night I have seen fire and smoke from atop the hill where the temple sits. If you have the courage, I need you to go and investigate, and wipe out whatever is killing my forest.”

  “I definitely have the courage, but I want to know what I’m going to get in return.”

  “Um,” the Keeper nervously eyed Fletch, who had landed on a branch nearby and was preening himself, “if your hawk doesn’t eat me, I will make you a bow from the branches of my tree. It will be unlike any weapon you have seen before, totally unique in this world.”

  “And where is this temple?”

  The creature’s eyes were still on the big, hungry-looking hawk, “Go that way. The temple is atop a hill that sticks out of the forest. It is about five miles from here.”

  “All right then,” Athena said, “I expect a bow upon my return. Don’t cough on it too much.”

  “Of course, Huntress. Good luck.”

  Athena looked up at her hawk, “Let’s go, Fletch.”

  She raised her arms, and disappeared in a flash of light. When the light subsided, Athena had vanished, and in her place was a leopard with red fur and violet spots. She padded off into the forest with Fletch following.

  In leopard form, Athena covered five miles quickly. As she slipped through the woods like a shadow, she noticed that the trees became more and more withered, and the air became stale. There were no animals, save for lonely birds that flapped through the branches. The ground was damp with something that was not dew.

  The hill was steep, its sides populated with scrubby bushes and what had once been flowers. Fallen petals were now dry and black, leaving the hillside absent color. Atop the hill was an outcropping of jagged gray stones.

  “Go up there. Let’s see what we get to kill,” Athena commanded Fletch.

  Fletch shot skyward like a rocket, his powerful primary wings flapping and his booster wings thrumming with the drone of a small airplane. He disappeared over a ridge. Athena closed her eyes and held out her hand. A green pulse filled the air around her fingertips.

  She saw the ground below her; Athena was now sharing vision with Fletch. Everything the hawk saw, she could see. Athena dropped away as Fletch climbed higher, giving her a view of the area. Straddling the hilltop was a temple - a dark and jagged thing - covered in dead vines. The hilltop was dry and barren, and death crep
t downhill on all sides for miles. Something up there was killing the forest. Athena followed Fletch’s sharp vision as he focused on a fire burning near the temple’s entrance.

  Athena winced, there were four armored Brutalli seated around the fire, keeping watch over the temple. At their feet lay three nasty-looking black wolves. She broke the link with Fletch and sat down against a large stone to think.

  In the balance of Verdia, Brutalli were the rock to Athena’s scissors. They were fast and strong. She was fast and weak. Well, they were dumb and she was smart. But several extra IQ points did not fix the one on seven odds.

  “Two on seven,” Athena whispered as Fletch came back, landing on the stone she leaned against. Fletch cocked his head to one side and squawked.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Athena growled.

  In a flash, she took the form of a red goat-like creature, and made her sure-footed way up the steep hillside. Loose gravel and sharp rocks were no problem for goat-Athena, who bounded across treacherous heights with ease. Fletch fluttered patiently overhead as she slowly but surely made her way to the top.

  Athena stopped when she could smell the smoke from the fire. Another smell filled the air - the scent of decay. She changed back to her true form and looked above.

  The Brutalli were only sixty or seventy feet away, at the hill’s relatively flat top. Athena remained unseen to them due to the rocky outcroppings that surrounded the hilltop like a crown. They sat at the main entrance to the ancient ziggurat, which cast a shadow over their camp.

  Athena ran the remaining distance to the first pillar of rock, and peered around it. Two Brutalli were facing away, while a third would be looking right at her if she stepped out.

  Three wolves were a serious threat, and they needed to be dealt with first. She ducked back behind the rock. Fletch watched her intently.

  She pulled three arrows from her quiver, one for each wolf. They were two feet long, with sharp barbs at the tips. She handed them to Fletch, who took them gently in his razor-sharp beak.