World of Darkness - [Time of Judgment 02] - The Last Battle

by Bill Bridges (epub)

  When the dirt trail ended, she continued on into a meadow, taking a smaller, less traveled lane on the far side. A light could be seen in the woods ahead. She stopped the car and shut off the engine.

  Slowly, trying to make as little sound as possible, she crept from the cab and slipped into the woods. She moved slowly towards the light, taking a circuitous route that kept her moving in a crooked path more perpendicular to the light than directly towards it. Every now and then, she stopped and listened, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, standing in a half-crouch.

  She could see the outline of the house now and the porch lamp that lit it. She crept to the edge of the woods, waiting, watching for any sign of movement. The interior of the house was dark, except for a manic bluish light reflected through heavy drapes in a room on the ground floor. She stepped forward, ready to break from the cover of the woods, when she heard the faint snap of a twig behind her.

  She spun around, instantly shifting into white-furred battle form, clawed arms up and ready to slash. With a look of shock, she tumbled over as a wolf barreled into her legs. It leapt back as soon as she was down and nipped at her legs, a painful bite that nonetheless failed to break the skin.

  A heaving, hot breath hit her face and a shape loomed over her head, a snout inches away from her ears. It growled low, a query.

  Loba smiled and shifted back into human form. She sat up and looked at the large, golden wolf. “You’ve gotten better, Johnathon Strongheart. I never even heard you—or Liza. I assumed you were both inside. ”

  “Ha! " a voice said from behind her. The first wolf now looked like a young woman, dressed in jeans, T-shirt and sandals, with long braided hair. “With the racket your truck makes? Loba, we heard you even before you hit the meadow. We’ve been tailing you since then. ”

  “I thought I was careful, ” Loba said, standing up. “But I was sloppy. I’ll have to do better. ”

  “Hey, ” Strongheart, the golden wolf, said as he shifted forms, becoming a blond, well built, athletic male clad only in jeans. “Don’t beat yourself up. We’ve been practicing. There’s been some creepy stuff going down around here lately. ”

  Loba frowned. “Why didn't you call me? ”

  “Chill out, ” Liza said. “Nothing happened. Just weird talk among the spirits is all. They’re spooked, but say there’s nothing going on nearby. It’s something happening deep in the Umbra. ”

  “I know, ” Loba said. “Attacks from all over. Ancient things breaking their bonds. That’s why I’m here. How is he? ”

  Strongheart motioned to the room with the blue light. “Playing video games. He loves them. Keeps him from fidgeting. I’ve never seen a kid with so much excess energy. ”

  Loba smiled. “Well, as long as he channels it constructively. That’s what we’re here for. To make sure he uses it well. ”

  The two Garou exchanged glances. Then Strongheart headed over to the house. “C’mon. He’ll want to see you. "

  As Loba stepped on to the porch, a floorboard made a loud creaking noise. Loba glanced at Liza, one eyebrow raised.

  Liza smiled. “Another safeguard. Just in case anyone got this far without us knowing about it. ”

  Loba smiled and followed Strongheart through the door into the front hallway. The living room opened off the hall, and she could now hear zapping and screaming sounds. She stuck her head around the comer and saw a twelve-year-old boy staring slack-jawed at a TV screen, his hands furiously working a video game controller.

  “Hello, Martin, ” she said.

  He turned his head, looking annoyed. His face exploded into a smile when he saw her. He dropped his game controller and launched himself at her, barreling into her legs and hugging her tight. “Loba! ”

  She hugged him back. “How have you been, kiddo? They treating you right here? ”

  He looked up at her, scrunching his face into a frown. “Yeah, I guess. It’s boring! When are we going to do something? I’m sick of sitting here listening to stories. I want to kick some Wyrm butt! ”

  Liza rolled her eyes and went into the kitchen. Strongheart walked past them into the living room and sat on the couch, crossing his legs.

  “What have I taught you, Martin? ” Loba said. “Violence comes only from necessity. You must learn to control your rage, to use it as a tool. Never let it use you. ”

  “Yeah, yeah, " the boy said, letting go of Loba and flopping down on the floor. “But it’s so boring! Can’t we go someplace? I never get to see anybody. ”

  “Well, perhaps. How would you like to travel to the Umbra? To the Aetherial Realm, to see the stars? "

  “Would 1! ” Martin said, rocketing up. “When are we leaving r “Tonight, ” Loba said, glancing over at Strongheart, whose eyebrows rose. “Go get some things. You’ll need to pack for a long journey. ”

  “All right! ” the boy yelled as he vaulted upstairs. Loba could hear the thunderous sound of his footfalls as he careened off the walls in the upstairs hallway and into his room.

  “The Aetherial Realm? ” Strongheart said, incredulous. “What’s going on, Loba? That's too long a journey for him. Too dangerous, especially with what the spirits are saying. ”

  “I’ve no choice, ” Loba said. “Events have overtaken us. Too many omens, portents and dire affairs. I can’t wait any longer. He’s of age for his Rite of Passage. He can do it. ”

  “Can her Johnathon leaned forward. “He still has so much rage in him. Liza and I can barely teach him the basics of serenity. He will get hurt. And he will hurt others. ”

  “Who among us doesn’t? We all bear this curse, some more than others. He will prove all his detractors wrong. I know it. ”

  “On what faith? I agree that he has much potential. I have seen it. But I have also seen his anger. He has potential for madness as well. ”

  “No! " Loba growled, staring at Strongheart with fury. "I refuse to believe it. I rescued him. I raised him through his early years. ” Loba looked down, dropping her shoulders, easing her tension. “I appreciate all the help you and the Children of Gaia have given us, but I won’t hear any more talk about some damn prophecy of doom. I’ve seen into his heart. I know what he will become, given time. ”

  “Your crusade is blinding you, Loba, ” Johnathon said, sitting back against the couch cushions. “Not every child can be saved. In some, the wounds are too deep. ”

  “Wounds? The wounds of his birth? Is he to be condemned simply because of his unfortunate nativity? Bullshit! Remember, all these years only I saw through the Defiler’s tricks to figure out its plot. Everyone—even you, Strongheart—denied it. But I was proven right in the end. ”

  “And that’s why I’ve aided you, Loba, and the boy. That’s why I’ve given my trust and effort so far. But... he’s not ready. "

  “We don’t get to choose that anymore. The last Talon of the Wyrm is loose. I cannot allow Martin to become its instrument. ”

  Strongheart said nothing, but his face revealed his fear.

  Liza coughed. She stood at the end of the hall, halfway in the kitchen. She held a tray with three steaming mugs of tea. She didn’t meet Loba’s eyes as she walked past her into the living room and put the tray down on a coffee table.

  “You might as well have something to drink before your journey. ” She picked up a mug and sipped it. “We’ll go with you. ”

  Strongheart looked surprised at this announcement, but then nodded.

  “No, ” Loba said. “I do appreciate your offer, but I want to attract as little attention as possible. Besides, you two are needed in the north. Mari Cabrah and Evan Heals-the-Past are gathering the tribes, to help the Wendigo hunt the Talon. They’re gathering at the Finger Lakes. You should go there tomorrow. They’ll need all the help they can get. ”

  Strongheart and Liza said nothing, pondering silently. Loba walked over, picked up a mug and began to sip it.

  “Why the Aetherial Realm? ” Liza said. “What’s there for him? ”

  “Sirius D
arkstar, ” Loba said. “If anyone knows Martin’s fate in the coming days, it’s him. I don’t know what to do next. I need answers from on high. ”

  Strongheart let out an exasperated sigh. “But the prophecies you despise about Martin come from that realm as well as the ones you heed. Why do you think you can trust them now? ”

  “Because everything’s falling apart, ” Loba said, throwing up her hands. “I can’t take him to the north. They’ll hate him there, and blame him for their troubles. And he will come too close to the enemy. I need to find the will of Gaia. Darkstar will know it. ”

  A rumbling noise from upstairs grew louder, and Martin practically tumbled down the stairs, dragging an almost-bursting backpack. “Can we go? Can we go now? ” Loba laughed. “Hold, boy. I need to gather things myself. ”

  Martin looked annoyed. “Couldn’t you have done that while I was packing? Sheesh! ”

  Loba rolled her eyes and shook her head, still smiling.

  “I’ll get some provisions, ” Liza said. She put her mug down and headed back to the kitchen.

  Strongheart stood up. “Let me at least loan you my travel tent. You might need it. ”

  Loba nodded her thanks and touched his shoulder as he left the room. “So, Martin, ” she said, turning to address the boy. “We’ve got a very, very long walk ahead of us. I don’t want to hear any complaints about it. All right? ’

  “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just go. ” Martin suddenly got an excited look on his face. “Can I wear my real form? Please?! ”

  “Once we get into the Umbra. Not before. ”

  The boy threw his fist into the air in a gesture of victory. “They never let me wear it here! ”

  “There’s a reason for that, ” Loba said, turning as she heard Liza exit the kitchen. Liza carried a satchel with food and a full waterskin. She handed it to Loba with a gentle smile and walked over to tussle Martin's hair as if he were an eight-year old. The boy wiggled away from her, annoyed.

  Strongheart came back up from the cellar, bearing a large hiker’s backpack. “It's got a tent and two bedrolls, ” he said as he handed it to Loba.

  “Thanks, ” Loba said. “Thank you both. ” She held out the food satchel. “You carry this, Martin. Time to pull your weight. ”

  His initial look of annoyance transformed to one of pride at her last words, and he took the satchel and slung it over his shoulder.

  “It’ll be easier to bear once you change forms, ” Loba said. She turned to look Liza and Strongheart in the eyes, smiling. “We will meet again. Soon. And I will come bearing good news. "

  “Let it be so, ” Liza and Strongheart said in unison, clasping her shoulders. They released her and stood back.

  She walked to the door and opened it, holding it wide for Martin. “You first. ”

  Martin shot past her and out onto the lawn. “Which way? ”

  She pointed down the dirt driveway, toward where her car was parked. “That way. To the meadow. We’ll step over there. ”

  Martin ran off into the woods and Loba followed, walking at a steady pace. Liza and Strongheart watched her go.

  When she reached the meadow, Martin was turning around in circles. What the Children of Gaia had said about the boy’s excess energy was clearly true. “Okay, ” Loba said. “Stand still. Hold my hand. We’re stepping over. ”

  Martin came over and wrapped his hand in hers, for once managing to stand still. Loba reached out her spirit and tugged them both past the Velvet Curtain between worlds, drawing them into the Penumbral reflection of the earthly meadow in which they had just been standing. Here, in the spirit world, it looked even more beautiful, its small wildflowers all in bloom.

  “Yes! ” Martin yelled, and began to shift forms. He grew hairy and tall, shooting upwards until he towered over Loba in his wolfman body. His native breed form.

  Loba wondered once again at how a metis, an incestuously bred Garou child, could possess no deformity. All metis had handicaps of one form or another, whether it be Cries Havoc’s ram horns or some other moon calf’s club feet. But not Martin. He had no handicaps. Indeed, his native form was a prime model of what a Garou warrior should be. The incongruity chilled Loba when she thought about it, and she knew why others feared the boy, why so many evil prophecies had been spoken about him, why they derisively called him the “Perfect Metis. ” But she also knew that the unknown was not necessarily bad, that the Wyrm could never produce such beauty as she saw in this child. His purpose was surely not for evil but for the greater good of Gaia. He was a sign of victory, not defeat.

  She pointed to the west, toward a thick tangle of bushes, beyond which could barely be seen the faint gleam of a moon path. “There. That’s where we’re going. ”

  Martin ran over to the path, and Loba jogged behind him. He was still energetic, but seemed to have normalized somewhat now that he was in his native form. He would surely tire her out on this journey, but she’d suffered greater challenges than ferrying a metis child to a distant realm.

  “Slow down, Martin, ” she said. “We have a long way to go. We’ve got to pace ourselves. We mustn’t be too tired to hear the song of the stars once we arrive. ”

  Martin forced himself to walk slower and smiled at Loba. He appeared truly happy, and Loba hoped they could remain that way. She looked up into the sky and felt a shadow pass over her heart as she caught a glimmer of red brightness on the horizon, but then it was gone.

  She prayed grimly that she was mistaken, that she had not just seen the Red Star flicker as she took her first steps on the path into the night sky.

  The Pole Star glimmered brightly in the night sky over the mountains of western China. The vast industrial development that afflicted the nation had not yet made it to these peaks; there were no artificial lights to compete with the distant suns. It seemed that a thousand stars gleamed in the limitless expanse, a vista denied to most city dwellers.

  Antonine Teardrop sent a prayer of thanks to Gaia for her bounty, still clear and unchecked here in the Purest Resolve Monastery where he had first learned to harness his powers as a Stargazer, the Garou tribe of mystics. Here he had mastered his rage and disciplined his body and mind, and here he had learned the secrets of the stars from the caern’s totem patron, Vegarda, the Pole Star. The movements of the stars revealed fates, and he had come to know something of their oracular language.

  He stood on one leg in the temple square on the highest peak of the mountain, his other foot resting against his knee, his hands joined in a mudra of remembrance, a sacred hand gesture that could, with the proper mantras, unlock distant memories from his younger days. He had spent the last week in silent meditation, honoring the memories of the temples chief abbot, who had just passed into the eternal dream realm, shedding his mortal, transitory form. Antonine pondered once more the gift of shapeshifting, how it made literal and real what to a human was abstract and ideal. All forms were transitory, changing in time. A werewolf’s was simply more obvious about it. A wonderful teaching tool that too few Garou made use of.

  He opened his eyes to thin slits and watched the new abbot as he performed his martial meditations, stepping in circles, following an ancient, spiral pattern written in his mind- It was the secret bagua written on the stomach of the Great Tortoise. Ages ago, the Tortoise had revealed the sixty-four hexagrams of the 1-Ching to the Yellow Emperor of China, who had seen them written on the Tortoise’s back. He had not seen the extra symbols on the stomach; only the Stargazers knew those glyphs. The new abbot, Persimmon Cloud, now danced them in his internal martial arts form.

  Antonine had traveled far from the Catskill Mountains of New York to visit the old temple, to pay homage to its deceased abbot. He welcomed the distance it put between him and the world and all the projects and duties he had there. As an elder, he had obligations to the Garou Nation. Unlike the rest of his tribe, he still pledged himself to aid the other tribes, refusing to give up on them. With the ceremonies of the past week, the bawn had been shut, and
even spirits were barred from interrupting the rituals. Now, as the abbot danced, he carefully opened the wards once more and revealed the temple to the physical and spiritual world.

  Persimmon Cloud’s long, silk robes flowed as if borne on the wind. The yellow phoenix so elaborately embroidered on his back and sleeves seemed to fly in circles, hovering around the Garou as if it were alive. Antonine blinked. The phoenix turned to stare at him.

  He cocked his head in curiosity and watched as the fiery, feathered bird broke away from the abbot’s robes and glided over to him, swirling about him in a spiral, its flickering yellow flames hypnotic, dulling Antonine’s sharp mind. He closed his eyes and breathed deep, trying to remain alert, and opened them to another world.

  The phoenix hovered above him and to his left, pointing with its wing toward the horizon, which roiled with dark smoke. As Antonine peered at the thin, distant shape the spirit seemed to indicate, his vision shot forth, like a camera zooming forward on a helicopter, until the shape came clear: a thin obsidian and green-flecked tower rising above a plain of fire, wreathed in shadows cast by unseen entities.

  Antonine felt a numbing dread in his stomach as he realized what tower this was, and he watched unblinking as his vision plummeted through its windows and down, down its dark-boned stairs into the pit below, lit by faint balefire. A path led into the horizonless darkness in ever-widening spirals. Antonine lurched and tried to awaken as his vision was tugged down the path, around its grim twists. He felt a scream growing inside him as he resisted the utter, maddening despair it awoke.

  Then he was deeper along the path, bypassing whole sections of it. The vertigo was gone—he saw as if from a television screen, watching images from the past accompanied by no smell, sound or touch.

  A growl escaped his disciplined throat when he saw her, the huge, leather-clad bitch from Alamogordo. Zhyzhak. The she-wolf cracked her whip at the mists around her, beating them back, tearing tiny chunks of ephemera from the banes that could not escape her reach.