Shepherd's Wolf

by M. Andrew Reid

  Viper stopped at the gate, “And that was Carrion Hall. You fight well; if Laura can keep her mouth shut in the Agilar, I think we’ll be fine. When we go through the gate we will be on the Coast Road that would eventually take us to Red Harbor. We’re going to run straight across the road and head into the forest. Don’t waste any time crossing; I don’t want to get spotted.”

  The gate opened to a dirt road surrounded by grassy banks. On the far side of the road was a thick forest. Viper jogged across, looking both ways before motioning the others forward. He stood on the far bank, waiting as the group and the ponderous animals shuffled across.

  “Don’t move!” a loud voice hissed from the trees.

  The forest rattled, and a horde of Conqueror soldiers poured out. There were at least thirty men and Agilus. A handful of Electar mages glowed with flames, static electricity, and dark energy. The group froze, strung out and exposed on the road.

  Grave was the last to emerge from the forest. He snickered and drew tight the black shortbow he was aiming at Viper’s chest.

  “Now, we did ya’ll a service,” Grave muttered. “We coulda shot ya up from the trees, but I’m more per-fessional than that. I just need that there wolf and ya’ll can leave.”

  Viper did not move. He stared into Grave’s yellow eyes, “Athena?”

  “Eight or nine on the left,” Athena replied calmly.

  “You shut it or I’ll shoot you in the gizzard!” Grave drew the bow tight and raised it to the ready, “Don’t move!”

  Several soldiers were moving slowly toward Viper. He was unarmed – his were axes set in their notches on his back, with his spear clasped firmly between them. Conquerors warily drew their swords, inching forward cautiously.

  A flurry of feathers whipped through the air, and the Conquerors cried out in pain - bright yellow arrows sprouting from their chests. Athena turned to fire upon the soldiers on the right, but they had charged down the bank into the road, putting her friends in the way.

  Wisp vanished, quickly slithering under Christine, who was stamping about anxiously. He drew the Spark Katana and Ramar’s Fang and reappeared in the middle of the charging Conquerors.

  Ramar’s Fang sank into a man’s back, hissing and oozing black bile. The ebony blade groaned in satisfaction as he pulled it free and hacked into the shoulder of another man. Wisp’s katana parried a thrust from a short spear, and made three red lines in the chest of the man wielding the spear.

  Haymaker charged the mages on the hill, roaring with fury. Lightning bolts and fireballs streaked down around him, sparking off his armor in a brilliant shower. A Conqueror Thief vanished and reappeared behind him, attempting to drive a dagger into his back. The heater shield slung across Haymaker’s back made it nearly impossible to find a weak point. Haymaker reached over his head, grabbed the Thief by the arm, and slung him at the nearest mage.

  Grave loosed his arrow, which plinked off Viper’s collar. Viper quickly drew his spear and stuck it into the ground before ripping the axes free from their clasps. Focus pulsed faintly, and Viper turned to face the soldiers surrounding him - ignoring Grave.

  Grave snarled and drew his black knives. Bathed in darkness and ebony smoke, he sprinted forward and jumped at Viper’s exposed back.

  “Viper, look out!” Laura screamed.

  Viper did not flinch. He simply sneered at the Conquerors that were gathering courage to attack him.

  When Viper did not react to Laura’s warning, Grave stopped his leap in midflight and rolled away. Right at that moment, the real Viper appeared from Focus’s shadow, swinging both axes and missing Grave by inches. The other Viper, a projection generated by Focus, flickered and disappeared.

  Grave regained his feet and split into three shadowy versions of himself. Each shadow fled in a different direction, disappearing into the forest. Viper yelled in frustration, and quickly dispatched Grave’s companions with a trio of axe blows. After that, it was quiet; all of the Conquerors had been dealt with.

  Viper stomped up to Laura, “When will you learn to shut up?”

  “How was I supposed to know that was a trick? I thought he was going to kill you!” Laura responded defensively.

  “That was foolish, Viper,” Athena scolded. “We aren’t here to rack up prestige. You should have taken him out quickly instead of playing with your spear.”

  “You are just as much to blame as Blondie here. You could have put an arrow through his eye,” Viper shot back.

  “Positioning. I could have shot, if I had wanted to risk hitting Ben and Gabe, but it didn’t seem worth it. My mistake. While we are pointing out flaws, let’s not forget who was out front when we were ambushed. Aren’t you supposed to be the best? How did we get jumped? You just lead us across an open road without checking the woods first. But we’re not supposed to question anything you do?”

  “Ok guys,” Haymaker said in a placating tone, “let’s all take a breather here.”

  “You think you can do this yourself?” Viper laughed and pointed at Laura, “Maybe Princess Buttercup can do a better job leading you bunch of mouth breathers.”

  “I was trying to help! What is wrong with you?” Laura threw her hands up and got in Viper’s face, “Why can’t you be a normal person? Did your mother not hug you enou...”

  The backhand killed Laura instantly. She exploded in a green cloud; her camera, her clothing, and the few trinkets she was carrying scattered across the road.

  “You son of a bitch!” Wisp dashed forward in a blur, the Spark Katana streaking a blue trail behind him. He came to a stop with Viper’s hand around his throat. There was a soft crunch, and he too vanished in a green cloud. The katana hit the road and fizzled out.

  Viper leveled his spear, “Anyone else?”

  Gabe snarled and tackled Viper. His fangs scratched against the bright armor, searching for Viper’s throat. Viper’s arms were pinned, and he struggled to free his right arm. He wrenched it out, swinging a knife up toward the wolf’s belly.

  “ENOUGH!” Bishop marched Christine forward, knocking Gabe off Viper. He reached out and froze Viper in place. The stasis field prevented Viper from moving. Bishop slowly raised Viper into the air until he hovered motionless.

  “We had a deal, and you broke it.” Bishop shook his head sadly, “I no longer require your services. I’m going to allow you enough movement to activate one of your bailout stones and leave. If you are not gone in five seconds, Athena will pierce your throat with an arrow, and I will take your armor to Gilgal and sell it to Grave myself. One…two…”

  Viper vanished, but not before narrowing his eyes at Bishop in fury.

  Ben began to cry. Athena ran over to him and hugged him, “It’s okay Ben; this isn’t your fault. Is Gabe all right?”

  The wolf was unharmed, but still bristling. He trotted over to Ben and licked his face. Ben drew in a ragged breath, “Where is Laura?”

  Bishop sighed, “She probably popped up over at Boar Hollow, that’s the nearest Explorer-aligned town. Wisp will take care of her and hide until I can get them.”

  “We’ve got to move.” Haymaker pointed down the road, “They’ll be back.”

  Athena reached out to Fletch, who was circling above, but did not see any groups moving toward them. “There’s no one coming now, but he’s right. We need to get out of here. Where do we go?”

  “To the Agilar. Just like we planned,” Bishop replied. “If we hurry we can be inside before nightfall. There is a safe zone where we can log off and take a break.

  “You can’t be serious!” Haymaker scoffed. “We’ll get murdered in there without Viper.”

  “We have no other choice. Grave will be back with his friends shortly.” Bishop began trotting Christine up the bank, heading toward the forest. “We’ll make it through.”

  “How do you know that?” Athena asked, looking at Ben. The boy was sitting on the wolf’s back, scratching behind his ears.

  “We have to,” Bishop said. “You get going and I will pic
k up Wisp and Laura.”

  Chapter 16

  Breaking Down

  Valor Estates

  Outskirts of Seattle, WA

  Sparks flew and metal screeched; a chair slid across the floor. Cables snapped; throwing smoke and ozone into the air as connections severed.

  Victor screamed with fury and kicked the chair repeatedly. Over and over he kicked it until his foot was slick with blood. He did not feel the pain. He felt even less after injecting himself with a stimulant he had stashed nearby.

  He left the theater - half stumbling and half running. A robe was hanging outside the door. He shrugged it on as he walked down a long hall toward the elevator. Metal doors slid shut, and the elevator whisked him away.

  When the doors opened, banks of lights burst to life, revealing a cavernous garage. Rows upon rows of classic and exotic cars were bathed in spotlight after spotlight. Some models had a color for every day of the week.

  Victor stopped in front of an antique Corvette. The car was pearl white, and the license plate read Valor1. Victor paused for a brief moment before jumping in behind the wheel. Long ago, Vincent Valor Sr. and his father had restored this Corvette from a rusted out hulk. It had been modified many times since, the original engine eventually replaced with a ceramic ethanol-burning monstrosity.

  The car roared to life, and Victor left streaks of smoking rubber on the concrete floors. An automatic door opened with inches to spare, and the car burst out of the underground garage onto a long drive.

  It was a foggy night, and the headlights flickered like candles as the car moved in and out of white mist. Victor turned onto a twisting wooded road, and floored the accelerator. Trees whipped by in a colorless haze at the edges of his vision.

  The engine screamed and the lines on the road became a blur. Victor’s pulse pounded, his temples throbbed. Tears were streaming back from his eyes, whipped into spray by the wind.

  …

  “Victor.” Victor’s dad looked down at him over his glasses. They were eating burgers in the backyard. It was sunny. “Our name is Valor. What does that mean?”

  “Be brave?” Victor asked.

  “That’s part of it.” Dad smiled and looked over at his older brother, “Your little brother is smart, Vince.”

  “Yeah.” Vince put his arms over his head, “I taught him everything I know.”

  His big sister, Valerie, laughed, “Then he’s not that smart.” Her twin, Vanessa, laughed. Their laughs were different even though they looked exactly the same.

  Vince stuck his tongue out and threw a French fry at Valerie.

  “That’s enough, kids.” Dad turned back to Victor, “It also means something else. It means you have to protect and help people who need help. It’s what we do.”

  “Like when mom protected me from that dog?” Victor asked. He did not like dogs.

  “Right, but not just people that you like. We help everybody, even people we don’t necessarily like.”

  “Everybody?”

  “Everybody.”

  …

  The quarry was ahead. Long ago it had been abandoned and allowed to flood - a great hole torn in the earth and filled with shallow water. The road would run near the quarry’s edge, guarded by a thin railing. Local kids came there to throw rocks off the precipice.

  Victor had kissed a girl there once when he was on summer break from boarding school. She asked him what he thought it would be like to jump. It had been a dark night, and the quarry a black abyss. For a brief moment, he had considered showing her and leaping out into the void; no one would have missed him. Maybe she was there now, waiting for him to accept the challenge. She had cinnamon hair.

  Victor continued to accelerate. The narrow quarry trail branched off from the main road, guarded by a swinging metal bar that was always open. Tires growled on the rough pavement as the trees closed in.

  Up ahead, the railing appeared, marking the edge of the universe. Someone had erected the rail long ago so they could bump their truck bed against it before throwing trash over the side. It would not take much to blast through. In a few seconds, there would be no more pain. The black void called out to him; it promised peace, and a final flight. Victor closed his eyes.

  …

  “It must be hard for you, Victor. Do you miss your parents?” The reporter smiled down at Victor with white teeth.

  Victor nodded.

  “What was the crash like? “

  “Jesus!” Vince interrupted and shoved the reporter away. “He’s a little kid! Shut that camera off. Jeff, where are you? Get them out of here!”

  “Yes, sir.” Jeff, the family’s chief of security, muscled his way into the crowd and put himself between the camera and Victor. “No pictures, please.”

  Now, the reporters were everywhere, and cameras were flashing left and right. The bursts of light filled his vision, and his head swam.

  “Vince Jr.!” One of them yelled, “How did the crash happen?”

  Another voice, “Who will run Valor Pharmaceuticals now that your father is dead?”

  “Get the hell off our property!” Vince was irate. “Someone take Victor inside!”

  Jeff picked Victor up, but he wanted his brother. “Vince!” He screamed as Jeff carried him up the stairs to the house, “Vince!”

  …

  An eagle landed on the railing and calmly gazed into Victor’s eyes: not into the headlights, but right at Victor. Victor shouted and slammed the brakes. Tires skidded and the car drifted sideways before stopping several feet from the rail. The eagle did not flinch or blink. It was large, with golden brown feathers.

  Victor grasped for the door handle, and the eagle vanished into the night. Victor left his hand on the door, panting as his heart thumped in his chest. He slowly and shakily opened the door, and stood up.

  He had imagined the eagle; the rail was bare. Far, far below, the darkness still invited him. It was not too late to jump. He walked around the rail, peering out over the edge.

  Somewhere above, the eagle screamed. Victor collapsed, shaking. He lay in the fetal position and cried.

  …

  Pale sunlight woke him the next morning. He had slept on the edge of the abyss. A groggy peek over the rail revealed how far he would have fallen had he jumped.

  Victor staggered back to his car and climbed in. He turned the key, and as the engine rumbled to life he was struck with a sudden surge of hope. He might still have time to make things right.

  Gilgal- The Conquerors’ City

  Seated casually in the great hall of the Conqueror headquarters, Myrmidon rested his elbows on a cold table. He was a Brutalli Gladiator, a powerful fighter and very useful to any adventuring party.

  His signature golden round shield, a black scorpion emblazoned on the center, leaned against a chair. His khopesh, a jagged curving sword named Manticore II, lay on the table in front of him. The sword’s dark red blade glowed faintly.

  Myrmidon himself wore deep red-orange plate with gold inlays. His dark orange fur poked out of the ends of his steel bracers. He brought a cup of wine to his lips and sipped daintily, “This is excellent.”

  “I am pleased that you like it.” Tungsten smiled. A broad, spiked collar erupted from the back of his neck, colored a bloody red. Drooping sleeves of dark purple lined with gold spilled on the table. He turned his gaze to Brooks and Major White, who were seated next to him at the long table. They looked awkward in their Verdian attire.

  “Why do you want to know about the Agilar?” Myrmidon sat back, his armor squeaking.

  “I’m sure you’ve heard of the wolf problem. It is creating a lot of headaches for us,” Brooks explained. “Unfortunately, the environment of this game constrains the methods we can use to deal with it. We need to intercept the wolf in-game. We will deal with it the same way you would any other wolf.”

  “And who is this gentleman?” Myrmidon nodded to White.

  “Mr. White is assisting us. He has the capability of removing the wolf, if we
can find it.”

  “And this has what to do with the Agilar?” Myrmidon raised an eyebrow.

  “We believe that the people preventing us from doing our job will try to take the wolf through the ship.”

  Myrmidon smirked, “To avoid Grave and friends, I assume.” He nodded at Grave, seated beside Tungsten, before pulling on his wine.

  “What we need to know is - can they actually make it through the Agilar?”

  The great hall’s door suddenly burst open.

  Limerick marched into the cold and cheerless hall, his ever-present top hat cocked at an angry angle. Round red goggles rested above a furrowed brow. A dark duster coat fluttered as long strides carried him up to the table, “Myrm, what are you doing talking to these...”

  “Myrmidon is our guest. We invited him here to discuss relations between our two factions,” Tungsten replied. “The real question is how did you get in here?” The Warlock stared daggers at the guards standing by the door.

  “I’m rich.” Limerick chuckled, “I pay people and they let me do things.”

  Limerick hopped onto the tabletop and stomped toward the group seated at the far end. As he went, he kicked over silver centerpieces and candelabras. He frowned at Myrmidon, “What I heard is that you guys are discussing the Agilar. I would like to remind my friend Myrmidon that he signed a non-disclosure agreement. My friend received a significant sum of money when he agreed not to discuss the Agilar with third parties.”

  Myrmidon sputtered, “I didn’t say anything! They started asking questions about this wolf and...”

  Limerick’s eyes widened for a brief second. He caught himself and regained his composure, but not before Tungsten noticed.

  Tungsten laughed and clapped his hands together, “So they are going through the Agilar after all. I guess that clears up that question. Are they headed to Ra’ah after that? Kogan wants the wolf, doesn’t he?”