Hellhound Blues

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Woohoo, look at you,” Frank said as he shook his tail. “What happened to the ‘Where’s the beef’ hound?”

  “If you’re referring to the change in my speech pattern,” I said, noticing that the runes along my sides were glowing. “The change is indicative, as the guardian noted, that the bond I share with my bondmate is dissolving. This is cause for concern. Serious concern.”

  “Miss, please step away from the hellhound,” Rags said, looking at me and cocking her head to the side. “We need to be careful around him.”

  “Garmr?” Frank said, tapping his chin, “Weren’t you originally created to guard the gates of Hel?”

  “Some of my kin still do so, yes,” Rags replied dismissively. “I was given this special assignment by Hel herself.”

  “Special assignment?” Frank asked, waving his tail. “Special assignment my tail! I heard about you. I may be a dragon, but beneath this fearsome and debonair exterior lies the brain and brawn of an accomplished mage. A very old and accomplished mage.”

  “Who apparently is inept at transmutation,” Rags responded. “Did you intend to end up as a lizard?”

  “Dragon,” Frank corrected. “Don’t try and change the subject. I know about you.”

  “Do tell,” Rags replied. “What do you know?”

  “Don’t let her give you any guff, Peaches,” Frank said, stepping close to me. “She is the definition of a Hel hound. Garmr protect the gates of Hel—the goddess, not the place.”

  “Is this true?” I asked. “You are a guardian of Underworld? Like my father?”

  “Oh no,” Frank started, “it’s better than that. When she and her pack get to howling—they start the end of the world known as”—he looked at Rags—“what was your full name again, Guardian?”

  “Ragnarok,” Rags said quietly. “That is my full name.”

  “And that is exactly what she starts when the howling gets going,” Frank replied. “This bear is more hellhound than you’ll ever be, Professor Peaches.”

  “You are a hellhound,” I said in mild shock. “Like me?”

  “No, not like you, Sherlock,” Frank answered as Rags looked away. “Compared to her, you are truly amateur hour. This bear”—Frank looked at Rags—“she’s a celebrity.”

  “I am no such thing,” Rags started. “I am merely a Guardi—”

  Frank stood on his hind legs and cleared his throat.

  “The best of trees must Yggdrasil be,

  Skidbladnir best of boats;

  Of all the gods is Odin the greatest,

  And Sleipnir the best of steeds:

  “Bifrost of bridges, Bragi of skalds,

  Habrok of hawks, and Garm of hounds.”

  “Impossible,” Rags said. “How could you know?”

  “There’s more,” Frank said, holding up a leg. “Pay attention to this one, Professor Peaches.”

  “What is this?” I asked.

  Frank cleared his throat again.

  “Now Garm”—Frank pointed at Rags—“howls loud before Gnipahellir,

  The fetters will burst, and the wolf run free;

  Much do I know, and more can see

  Of the fate of the gods, the mighty in fight.”

  Rags stared at Frank. “What are you?” she asked. “Who are you?”

  “Refrains from both Poetic Edda and Voluspa,” Frank answered, smugly. “Mage studies were a pain in my a—tail, but some things stuck.”

  “Fables and the imaginings of old men,” Rags replied with an edge in her voice. “None of that is true, and my howl will not usher in the end of the world. Do I appear chained to the entrance of a cave to you?”

  “There’s this theory that the Garmr is not one, but a group of three large dog-like creatures,” Frank said. “Similar to canine bears.”

  “I’ve never heard this theory,” Rags replied, squaring off against us. It was the same pounce-and-shred stance I used when facing more than one enemy.

  “Most haven’t heard of it,” Frank continued. “It’s in an obscure text, Ziller’s Mythos, Magic, and Mysteries.”

  “Never read it,” Rags shot back. “Enlighten me.”

  “In it, Ziller posits that about a century ago, one of the Garmr broke free from their imprisonment and defected to the Jotnar.”

  “That is a fascinating story,” Rags said. “But that’s all it is—a story.”

  Frank turned and faced Cece. “Professor Peaches over here was bringing me here to help a mage, someone special like me,” Frank said. “I know it’s not you or the woman who lives here—her signature is as non-magical as it gets. That leaves the girl.”

  “She is of no concern to you,” Rags said quickly. “She is my charge and I’m to keep her safe. That’s all you need to know.”

  Frank shook his head. “One more thing I need to know,” he said, staring at Rags. “What kind of mage would a ‘cold girl’ be anyway?”

  SEVEN

  RAGS STEPPED IN front of Cece.

  “You can’t,” Rags said. “It would put everyone in mortal danger.”

  “He can’t what?” I asked, having a hard time following what was going on. “What can’t he do?”

  “How are you hiding from Hel?” Frank asked, narrowing his eyes. “You have some major league camouflage going on. The girl too. That’s not basic rune work around you two.”

  “I cannot say,” Rags answered. “You must not reveal our presence…to anyone or anything.”

  “Are you insane?” Frank asked. “Have you met Hel? You think I want to have a chat with her about her missing guard bear?”

  “I would strongly suggest against it,” Rags said, still tense. “Only Mage Montague knows. He helped reinforce the camouflage spell.”

  “I may be unbalanced, some may even say deranged, but I’m not suicidal,” Frank said. “No one will hear it from me.”

  “On your word as a mage?” Rags asked. “Will you give us your bond?”

  “My word as my bond,” Frank started, “no one will hear about your identity from me.”

  “And you?” Rags asked, looking at me. “Will you keep our secret?”

  “Of course,” I said. “My priority is finding Simon. I am certain you had a valid reason for escaping. Your past does not determine who you are now.”

  “Thank you,” Rags said with a sigh. “Had you disagreed, or your lizard not given his oath, I was prepared to end you both.”

  “End us?” I asked. “What do you mean, end us?”

  “She means,” Frank began, “we would have been puree of Peaches with a side of Frank fricassee.”

  I looked at Rags. “Do you possess this much strength?”

  “My capabilities have been diminished to mainly defensive,” Rags replied. “But I still possess some offensive abilities.”

  “She does,” Frank said with a nod. “She’s not strong enough to take you down in battlemode…I think. I’d rather not find out. Hmmm?”

  I looked at Rags. “I wish you were forthcoming with me about this earlier,” I said. “It’s entirely possible the Shadowhounds are after the cold girl.”

  “I’m just glad we only dealt with Shadowhounds,” Frank said with a shake of his tail. “If we’re lucky, we won’t run into any Darkfiends.”

  “Darkfiends?” I asked. “What are Darkfiends?”

  “If Shadowhounds are bad dogs, Darkfiends are the ones holding the leash,” Frank said. “Nasty creatures we don’t want to face…ever.”

  “An apt description, Lizard,” Rags said with a nod. “Not entirely accurate, but close enough. Darkfiends are the reason I was given this assignment.”

  “You”—Frank pointed at Rags—“should have told us you were in hiding from the get-go.”

  “Would it have mattered?” Rags looked at Cece. “I am her guardian. This is who I am now. Stating we are ‘in hiding’ defeats the purpose of being…in hiding.”

  “She has a point,” I said under my breath. “She’s hiding from Darkfiends.”

 
; “Don’t agree with her,” Frank snapped. “Her withholding information isn’t helping us find Simon.”

  “No, but it may explain why the Shadowhounds attacked,” I said, smelling the air. “They weren’t here for me.”

  “You think they were after the Miss?” Rags asked, concerned. “How could they have known about her location?”

  “Has she used her magic lately?” Frank asked. “More than usual?”

  “No,” Cece said quickly. “I’m always carefu—”

  “Yes, she has,” I corrected. “Earlier, before I left to retrieve you. She exceeded her limit and cast too many ice orbs.”

  “Ice orbs?” Frank asked. “She’s a Jotnar?”

  Frank whirled on me. “Did you know she was Jotnar?” he asked, blue energy crackling around his body. “This is bad.”

  “Why does it matter if she is Jotnar?” I asked. “How will that help me find Simon?”

  “Try to remember exactly how Simon disappeared,” Frank said, grabbing my face. Normally I would have chomped on him, but, right now, I needed his help. “Try to recall the events that led to his being gone.”

  “He said something about karma and then touched the lines on his hand,” I said, remembering the incident. “There was a flash of white light, and he was gone.”

  “Two things,” Frank said, holding up two fingers. “Describe the lines on his hand, and tell me what he said exactly about karma.”

  I thought the image on Simon’s hand at Frank, and he let out some words I don’t feel comfortable repeating. Then, I thought about what Simon had said.

  “Are you sure that’s the mark on his hand?” Frank asked, pacing back and forth. “Like this?”

  He traced the mark on the floor with a finger, leaving a blue trail of electric energy.

  It was the same mark.

  “Yes, that’s it,” I said. “That is the mark on Simon’s hand.”

  “An endless knot,” Frank said, serious. “Sh—sugar. What did he say about karma? He needed to discuss it or speak to it?”

  “No one can speak to Karma, Lizard,” Rags scoffed. “It is a force of the universe. It is causality, not some person you can speak to. It would be like trying to speak to gravity.”

  “You realize,” Frank said, placing his arms akimbo, “you’re speaking to a mage in a dragon body standing next to a hellhound, while you’re protecting a Jotnar frost mage who may have alerted Darkfiends to our location?”

  “When you put it that way…”

  “I do.” Frank turned away from Rags. “Think, Professor Peaches. What exactly did Simon say?”

  I closed my eyes and thought back. Remembering was difficult for me, unless it had to do with meat. I remembered Simon touching his mark, and I remembered his words. In that moment, the energy of the bond between us surged.

  “I feel him,” I said. “I feel Simon.”

  “Can you focus and take us to him?” Frank asked.

  “I can try,” I said and held onto the faint energy trail. “It’s fading. We have to hurry.”

  I stepped close to the others, expanded my energy as we moved in-between, and left the cold girl’s home.

  EIGHT

  I FELL AND landed on Frank.

  Rags and Cece fell close to us and rolled some distance.

  “Get…off…me,” Frank said. “What did you do, hellhound? Do you always cut your ports this short?”

  “That wasn’t me,” I said, rolling to my paws and standing. “I was following the energy of the bond when it disappeared again and—”

  “Darkfiends,” hissed Rags, stepping closer to Cece. “They interrupted the teleportation.”

  I looked around. We were standing in the middle of a large street. I saw buildings to either side of us. Beyond the buildings were larger structures and mountains.

  “This is not in-between,” I said. “What is this place?”

  “This is—” Rags started.

  “A Darkfiend dimension,” Frank finished, sending arcs of energy in every direction. “Pocket dimensions used by Darkfiends to trap prey.”

  “By nullifying certain types of magic,” Rags answered, her voice grim. “My shield is gone.”

  “I still have my ice,” Cece answered, forming orbs in her hands and dissolving them just as fast. “Maybe I can protect you, Rags?”

  Frank closed his eyes. “It’s not nullifying, but more of a dampener,” he said. “I can access my abilities, but they won’t be as powerful. How about you, Professor?”

  “I smell Simon,” I said, sensing my bondmate some distance away.

  “Is he close?”

  “No, but he is here.”

  “Why would they bring him here?” Frank asked, looking around. “Unless they knew.”

  “Knew what?”

  “Unless they knew you were Simon’s bondmate.”

  Rags padded over to stand next to Cece. “That would mean their real target wasn’t Simon,” Rags said, glancing at me. “Or the Miss.”

  Frank nodded and pointed at me. “They used Simon as bait,” he said. “They were really after—you.”

  “Me?” I asked, confused. “Why me?”

  “That’s a real good quest—” Frank started.

  “Because we need you removed, hellhound,” a voice answered. “By inhibiting your bond, we eliminate your connection to your bondmate and cause you to become a menace.”

  It was a Darkfiend.

  Tall, shadowy, and vaguely man-shaped. There were few details to make out. Where Shadowhounds took on the form of large wolves made of black energy, Darkfiends appeared to be large humans made of the same dark energy.

  “Who are you?” Frank asked, crossing his arms and squinting. “Are you the one messing with Peaches?”

  “You may address me as Murk,” the Darkfiend said. “I am the one who interrupted the bond.”

  “If the bond is disrupted,” Rags started, “that would cause—”

  “Peaches to go into battlemode,” Frank said. “And someone summons—”

  “Shadowhounds,” I said with a growl. “To eliminate me.”

  “Precisely,” Murk answered. “At first we were going to kill your bondmate and use him as the catalyst.”

  “You tried to kill Simon?” Frank asked, wagging a finger and shaking his head. “Someone didn’t do their homework.”

  “We intercepted him as he tried to travel between planes,” Murk replied. “Removing him from your plane proved more efficient in weakening the bond.”

  “You couldn’t kill him,” I said, baring my teeth in what I hoped was a fearsome smile. “That must have been interesting.”

  “Frustrating to say the least, he proved to be quite resilient—for a human,” Murk said. “We were forced to change tactics.”

  “When you couldn’t eliminate Simon—” Frank said.

  “They lured the hellhound to him,” Rags said. “Knowing he would teleport to follow the bond.”

  “But, I didn’t expect you to bring friends,” Murk said, looking around at the group of us. “I think we could use a young Jotnar mage. She has more magic than the immortal human. Don’t you agree?”

  “This plan is too complicated for a Darkfiend,” Frank said with an edge. “Who set this up? Why target Peaches?”

  The Darkfiend turned to look at Frank.

  “Lizard,” The Darkfiend replied with contempt, “do you really think an insignificant speck of a mage, like you, merits an explanation?”

  “First off,” Frank replied calmly as he started to glow. “It’s dragon, and second—insignificant this.”

  Frank unleashed a beam of blue light from his body. It smashed into the Darkfiend, creating a blinding flash.

  For several seconds we lost sight of the creature. Then I heard the laughter. It reminded me of something bad and old. It made me angry.

  “Concentrated light?” Murk said, as he appeared, unhurt. “That is the perfect weapon—against Shadowhounds. You’ll find I am made of sturdier material.”


  Murk raised an arm, and several groups of Shadowhounds materialized behind him. They snarled and snapped their teeth in our direction.

  “That doesn’t look good,” Frank said, stepping back. “I think this one is all yours, Professor.”

  I nodded. “Keep the guardian and the cold girl safe,” I said, feeling my body increase in size. “I’ll deal with the Darkfiend.”

  “You’ll deal with me?” Murk laughed again. “The moment you entered this dimension, you were dead.”

  “We’re not dead yet,” I answered.

  “A formality I will rectify,” Murk said. “Kill the lizard and the guardian, but leave the child alive. I’ll remove the hellhound’s heart myself.”

  I let the power flow through me. I still felt the bond, but it was almost gone. I needed to stop the Darkfiend and find Simon before it was too late.

  NINE

  THE SHADOWHOUNDS BROKE off from Murk and rushed at Frank, Rags, and Cece.

  I entered battlemode and blasted the closest Shadowhounds with my baleful glare, destroying them. A searing pain brought my attention to the right as an orb of black energy hit my side.

  I shook it off and faced Murk.

  “I told you, hellhound,” Murk said, forming another black orb and summoning more Shadowhounds. “You are dead.”

  I turned my baleful glare on Murk who leaped to the side and unleashed the orb he held.

  My battlemode form is large, but it isn’t slow. I stepped to the side, avoiding the orb and rushed at Murk. He backpedaled and launched more orbs at me.

  “Stay back, you stupid creature, and die!” he screamed as I closed the distance.

  I took a deep breath, squared off, and entered ‘shred and maim’ stance. The orbs raced at me as I lowered my head and used my bark.

  This time I didn’t hold back—much. Simon says you should always hold back a bit in case you need to dig deeper later on.

  The soundwave produced by my bark ripped the ground up as it raced at Murk. He tried to stand against it, which was a bad idea. Just to make sure, I focused the energy into my eyes and unleashed my baleful glare.

  The beams punched through Murk and flung him down the street—well, most of him. Parts of him fell off and slowly evaporated.