There were a good number of books on it. Herbert must have been a reader. From where she was lying, Roxy noticed some titles that she liked herself. There were a few newer paperbacks, but most of the books looked very old. She could read some of the titles, and saw that they were mainly philosophy books.
One book was much older than the rest, with its binding nearly falling off. And Roxy thought she saw some mold on it. While many of the book were old, she could see they were in good shape, that they had been well taken care of.
That one old, moldy book looked out of place. Herbert didn’t have a lot of new things in his apartment, but everything was well cared for. Why would he keep this strange old book that was falling apart?
Roxy got up off the bed and went over to the bookshelf.
She picked the book from the shelf carefully. She felt that if she made one wrong move, the whole book would dissolve into dust.
She opened the front cover gingerly. To her surprise, the book was written in some ancient-looking language, in a script that she was completely unfamiliar with. This was pretty strange. Could Herbert read this language? It didn’t look like Russian or Arabic or Chinese, or any other modern language with a non-English script. Roxy had the feeling there was something special and unusual about this book. For some reason, she had the feeling it had something to do with the native peoples here in Alaska.
Something fell out of the book when Roxy opened it. She put the book carefully back on the shelf, and bent down to pick up the scrap of paper that had fallen out of it.
“Herbert, hope you enjoy this as much as I have. I’m not nearly as fluent as you are, but I think I learned a thing or two. Now I’m returning this book to one of its rightful owners. May you roar & roar—your friend, Sylvan Donohue.
That was strange. But not as strange as Herbert turning into a giant bear. Being a bear shifter, Herbert must have known things that others didn’t. Maybe he had some connection with then native peoples.
Roxy thought back to her readings as an archeologist. The native peoples have always believed that there were some humans who could turn into animals. While Herbert didn’t seem like a native person, maybe he had some connection to them? Maybe that was something worth looking into. But she didn’t see how it could save Herbert from being delivered the military base, and being experimented on.
She felt sick thinking of Herbert on that flatbed truck. What if he woke up, while they were driving along some Alaskan highway road? Wouldn’t be terrified, knowing he couldn’t escape. Would he think of Roxy, and their time together?
Roxy knew she didn’t have long.
Since she had no other leads, and no immediate way to save him, Roxy knew that her best bet was to track down the man who had written Herbert this note. He was Herbert’s friend, and there was a remote possibility he would know something that could help Herbert. Or maybe he could help Roxy find Herbert. It wasn’t much, but Roxy had feeling that he might be able to help.
Roxy pulled out her phone for the first time since getting to Alaska. She turned it off ‘airplane mode,’ and connected to the web browser. She knew that she still have a week of service left before her plan was canceled due to nonpayment.
She typed “Sylvan Donohue,” not knowing what she would find. The first page that came on Google was “Anchorage University Library, Rare Books Department.” It showed a picture of Sylvan Donohue, the head of the Rare Books Department. He was very old man, possibly in his 90s. He had taken on the physique of men his age, with hunched shoulders and a slightly emaciated frame. But Roxy liked the look on his face. He looked studious and trustworthy.
She decided to pay him a visit. What other chance did she have?
Roxy walked out of the apartment, locking the door behind herself—if she couldn’t somehow by some remote chance save Herbert, she wouldn’t want to return here. She walked down the steps, passed the landing that already had so many memories.
She walked into the street, and hailed the next cab.
“To the Anchorage University Library,” she said, in a quavering voice. She felt the tears welling in here eyes, and felt as if she would burst into tears at any moment.
7. SYLVAN DONOHUE
“Ah, yes,” said Sylvan Donohue,” adjusting his spectacles. “I’ve known Herbert for many, many years. Ever since I was a little boy. I don’t talk about him to many people, but I can see from your expression that you know him and care about him.” Sylvan was seated behind an elegant librarian’s desk. His office in the back of the library was packed full of books of all types, old and new. He wore a three-piece suit with a waistcoat, and cut quite the elegant figure for such an elderly man. If there was one word to describe him, his manner of speaking and his gestures, it would be: dignified.
Roxy liked being back in the library. It reminded her of her College library back in New Jersey, where she had always felt at home, where she could always withdraw from the world in order to read.
What did Sylvan mean about knowing Herbert since he was a boy? Herbert looked young for his age, but there was no way he was older than Sylvan, was there? Unless shifters aged differently than humans. Was it possible that Herbert was some kind of immortal?
Another question crossed Roxy’s mind, seemingly without introduction: Has Herbert always been able to shift into a bear, or was it a power he had acquired, possibly in some unusual way?
“He’s in great danger,” said Roxy. “He’s such a rare and precious create, ferocious and gentle at the same time. I feel like you were the only person who could help me help him.”
“Ah,” said Sylvan, slowly. He was talking now barely above a whisper. “I have always feared that something would happen to Herbert. There are dangerous people out there, people who want to harness his powers for their own purposes, and for evil.”
“It’s those hunters,” said Roxy. “They’ve kidnaped Herbert. And I don’t know what’s going to happen to him, but I know his life is in danger.”
“Well, I wish I could help you help him,” said Sylvan, with a sad smile. “But I’m an old man. When I was younger, Herbert and I got into all sorts of adventures. He saved my life more than a few times, and I saved his once or twice. But my body is failing me now, and I have a weak heart. The doctors say I only have a year left. But I stay here in this library, surrounded by my beloved books. With my advanced age, I’ve become something of an academic, whereas in my younger years, I was a man of the world, a man of the woods, a man of adventure. And I stay so that I can continue my research. It’s something Herbert and I have talked about more many years. I have much work still to do. But I have come closer to discovering the source of this ancient power that Herbert found so long ago.”
There were so many questions in Roxy’s mind. But she had a mission to accomplish. She had to save Herbert.
“It looks like you’ve already been through a lot, young lady. I will help as much as I can...”
Roxy looked down at her wrists, where Sylvan’s gaze was lingering. Her arms and hands were still covered in blood, now dried, from when she had been handcuffed. She had found a hacksaw in Herbert’s apartment, and chopped off the handcuffs herself, despite the intense pain their restriction had caused her.
“I can tell you are a strong woman,” said Sylvan, gently. “But the only way you will be able to help Herbert is if you acquire some greater power. An ancient power, greater than all of us. With it as your ally, you will be a formidable match for Herbert’s foes.”
The thought of these strange powers sent a shiver running through Roxy’s spine. It felt like ice water.
“But how will I find Herbert, even if I can acquire these strange powers?” said Roxy, in a whisper. The situation seemed grave, and a whisper seemed appropriate.
“The powers I speak of are the same powers that an adventurous Herbert found in his youth.”
“You mean I’ll transform into a bear, too?” A few days ago, this would have all seemed too strange to Roxy. But she had seen Herbert�
��s transformation with her own eyes.
“Not necessarily. It’s an ancient and mysterious power. It works in ways that we can’t yet understand. I have been studying it now most of my life, through reading and speaking with the natives who have known of it for eons. Most likely, if you are able to find the source, and to pass the test, you will gain the ability to transform into an animal that best fits your spirit.”
Roxy wondered what animal she would become.
Would she still be the same Roxy, if she was able to find the source, and to transform, or would she become someone different, someone other than herself? She looked down at her big body, wishing the first time in a while that she looked different than she did. Wouldn’t it be nice to be slim, powerful, and athletic?
“This will be a dangerous voyage. Physically and spiritually. I warn you, it is not something to undertake lightly...”
“I need to do it,” said Roxy, with conviction. “I need to do it to save Herbert.”
THE SOURCE
Even though it was summer, it was cold up here in the Northern wilderness. Roxy was bundled up in Alaskan gear that she had bough with the last of her money. Sylvan Donohue had given her a small gift of a few thousand dollars, in order to buy provisions and transport up north. He had given her old books, with maps, that showed the last known location of the source. It had been found only once before by Westerners: Herbert had been the only one. There had been natives, throughout history, who had sought out the power, but in recent years not many still knew its location.
Roxy made hand gestures to the guide, who did not speak English, to stay back.
This was a clearing, in the forest. Roxy paused for a moment, but continued walking. She looked back to see the guide sitting on a rock, facing the opposite direction. He pulled out a tin of dipping tobacco and inserted some into his upper lip.
Roxy was about to leave behind everything she had known. She knew that this was the place. The place where it all began. And the place where it would end.
It had taken her a whole month of hiking, walking through the uncharted wilderness, fighting off beasts and sickness. Her body had begun to transform already before her eyes. She had developed new strength, and her muscles had grown. She was losing weight without trying to do so.
Stepping into the clearing, Roxy felt something. It was an ancient thing. But it felt new, and fresh, rejuvenating. It felt like something she had known briefly in childhood and then forgotten.
In the center of the clearing, there was a small stone statue of a pregnant woman giving birth to a wolf. The statue must have been carved thousands and thousands of years ago. It was beautiful, but roughly hewn. She could see the dents and gashes where the ancient tool had worked at it again and again.
Roxy intuitively knew what to do. Sylvan had not been able to give her any further instructions. “You will know what to do when you get there, is what the natives say,” he had told her. “They say that if you are meant to acquire the power, you will know. If not, you must turn back, to avoid grave danger.”
Roxy knew that she must pray, pray to the ancient spirits.
And she had to pray in the most ancient way, the way humans had been praying for millennia. She needed to masturbate.
Despite the cold, Roxy undid her pants, and slid them down around her knees.
She reached down, touching her lips, which seemed to shrink against the cold.
But soon she was wet and warm, her lips opening like an Alaskan flower.
Roxy thought of Herbert, and of his cock. She thought of their love making in his apartment.
Roxy’s fingers moved faster and faster.
The woods were silent.
Roxy came, experiencing an orgasm more powerful than any she had ever experienced before.
She felt something happening. The orgasm continued. Her body felt wrecked by the waves of pleasure shooting through it. She fell to the forest floor, where she felt the pine needles and smelled their scent.
The waves of pleasure continued, unabated.
Roxy looked down at her leg, moving her head against the floor. Her head felt different, but she wasn’t sure how.
Her leg was different too. She wasn’t looking at her leg. She was looking at the leg of a great jet black jaguar.
Her senses were different. She was smelling things she had never smelled before. Her hearing was perfectly tuned. She could hear the guide a mile away spitting his tobacco.
Roxy turned to look. Her vision was clearer than it had ever been before. She ran forward, sprinting, thrilled at the power of her new cat body. But there was no time for rejoicing. Roxy had one thing on her mind.
THE END
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Wild Ride: A Bad Boy Romance Page 23
