Wolves, Witches and Bears...Oh My!

by Nicky Charles

  “Duck under it.” Stone gave the suggestion as he folded up the hammocks and netting.

  “What if it jumps down on me?”

  “It won’t.”

  “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being kept from your morning pee by a vicious arachnid.” Tina shuffled her feet, her bladder urging her to face her fears, leave the building and find a bush.

  “The best way to conquer your fear is to face it head on.” He called the advice over his shoulder as he examined her backpack.

  She eyed the spider and was sure it waved its pincers or jaws or whatever it had at her. “I’m facing it and I’m still afraid.”

  “Remember, you’re bigger than it. The spider is more afraid of you than you are of it.”

  “My body is bigger so it can hold more fear.” She countered his logic with her own. Maybe she could try a spell, create a small wind to blow the spider out of the doorway. Of course, knowing her luck, it might work in reverse and the eight-legged horror would land on her. She hopped from one foot to the other, the need to go to the bathroom becoming more urgent.

  Stone appeared beside her. “The only reason I’m doing this is because we need to get moving.” He used a stick to take down the web and shoo the spider outside.

  “My hero!” She clutched her hands to her chest in an overly dramatic fashion and pasted a love-sick look on her face.

  “Do I get rewarded in typical hero fashion?” He reached towards her, obviously anticipating a kiss. A crooked smile peeked out from the stubble that now covered the lower half of his face.

  She ducked under his arms and sprinted out the door. “Sorry, I gotta pee!” The sound of his bark of laughter followed her as she rounded the corner and found a bush to use as a bathroom.

  By the time she returned, Stone had his backpack on. Hers sat in the corner. When she went to get it, he shook his head.

  “Leave it. It’s a piece of crap.”

  “Why?”

  “The shoulder straps. There isn’t enough padding. If you wear it again today, you’ll end up with raw skin. Next time I see the guy who sold it to me, I’m going to wring his neck. I don’t pay those kinds of prices for inferior goods.”

  “But what about all the supplies in it?”

  “I’ve put the most essential ones in mine. We’ll leave your hammock behind, we can share for one night.”

  “You shouldn’t have to carry everything, though.”

  “Here.” He handed her a canteen.

  “That’s it?”

  “Believe me, Christina, I can handle the weight. And given how rough the trail will be today, you’ll be glad that’s all you have to worry about.”

  She shrugged, slipped the strap for the canteen over her shoulder and grabbed the doll which he had neglected to pack. “You forgot Clarice.”

  “Clarice?”

  She waved the doll at him and he rolled his eyes. “Come on, we need to get started.”

  Tucking the doll in her waistband she followed him towards the river.

  “There’s a trail along the river bank. We’ll be using it most of the way rather than forging our own.”

  She nodded. “The easiest path is usually the safest path. The idea of walking straight through the thickest growth, swinging a machete left and right is pure Hollywood.”

  “You’ve been reading the survival guide I gave you.”

  “If something catches my interest, I pretty much have a photographic memory,” she explained.

  “And if it doesn’t catch your interest?”

  “Then I’m dumb as dirt.”

  He chuckled. “Your memory must come in handy.”

  “Yes and no. Like I said, if something interests me, I pick it up pretty quickly. The problem is, not a lot of things hold my interest for very long.”

  “Which is why you’ve taken such a wide variety of college courses.”

  She shrugged. “I figure eventually I’ll find something that feels right, something that’s not too repetitive.”

  “I’m surprised you’ve stayed working at Club Mystique for so long then.”

  “Well, after all these years it’s sort of like home. Besides, Gwyneth’s there.”

  “Gwyneth?” He looked over his shoulder at her.

  “We have a love-hate relationship. She’s a relative of sorts, my mentor on how to be a witch.”

  “Somehow I had the impression you weren’t that in touch with your witch side.”

  “I’m not, not really. My parents sent me to live with her when I was in my early teens. They’re very into the whole witch scene and completely despaired of me. I’m something of an embarrassment.”

  “How so?” Stone brushed past a low hanging cluster of leaves.

  She followed his suit, idly swatting at the swarm of bugs that rose into the air in response to moving the vegetation. “My witch skills are substandard. Each witch is born with a certain specialty; some are good with spells, others excel at levitating objects. Most members of my family are gifted in several areas. Me, I’m mostly a lowly vision and prophecy witch.”

  “Why is that considered lowly?”

  “Well, first of all, almost any witch can have a vision. It’s not considered that special.”

  Stone gave a distracted grunt, grabbing her arm and keeping her from treading on a snake that was sunning itself near the edge of the path. “Watch your step.”

  “Thanks.” She shuddered, not wanting to imagine what could have happened if she’d disturbed it.

  “So, visions and prophecies?” Stone prompted her, although whether he was really interested in the conversation or trying to take her mind off the snake, was anyone’s guess.

  “Um, yeah. Visions.” She gave the snake one last look over her shoulder before focusing her attention on Stone’s back once again. “I have them more than most. Sometimes I can conjure one up when someone really needs information, other times they just appear randomly.”

  “Sounds handy to me, being able to see the future.”

  “It’s not seeing the future exactly, more like an abstract painting that’s open to interpretation; it’s a very inexact kind of magic.”

  “So if I asked you about the outcome of this mission?”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t even try to conjure one up for this. First of all, I’m personally involved. That can really skew the interpretation process.”

  “Objectivity is important.”

  “Exactly. Visions can be very disconcerting and one about yourself is even more so.” She accepted Stone’s steadying hand as she climbed over an exceptionally large log. “As much as possible, I try to just forget about them. They’re a curiosity, nothing more.”

  “And do all witches feel that way?”

  “Some do. Some don’t.” She chuckled. “Gwyn had one a few days ago and you should have seen the sour look on her face. She tried to pass it off as being about me, but I pointed out it could also have been about the club. See? It’s all in how you interpret it.”

  “So Gwyneth is a ‘lowly prophecy witch’ as well?”

  Tina snorted at the very idea. “Of course not. She’s multi-talented and quite respected in some circles. My parents hoped she’d be able to do something with me. Sadly, I was beyond even her tutelage.”

  “You changed your hair colour so you must have some magical skills.”

  “I can manage a few simple spells. That’s pretty much the extent of it.”

  “So I can’t ask you to make these vines disappear?” He nodded towards the tangle that partially blocked the path.

  “Not if you value your life. Knowing my luck, it would go wrong and they’d wrap around you until you looked like a mummy.”

  “I think I’d better rely on my machete then.”

  “Good choice.” She watched him deal with the recalcitrant vines. “Gwyn thinks the problem is that I don’t practise enough and maybe she’s right. It really doesn’t interest me that much.”

  Stone set down his machete
and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Time for a break.”

  Tina passed him the canteen since there were no coconuts in sight to provide a drink. “So what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “I’ve spent the first part of the trek telling you all about me. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Not much to tell.” A closed look came over his face. “I trained to be an Enforcer then set out on my own.”

  She waited a beat, but he didn’t add any details. “Somehow I sense you skipped over some details.”

  “Clever of you.” He capped the canteen. “We’ll eat at our next rest break. Only a couple more miles to go.”

  “And that’s the end of that conversation,” she murmured to herself.

  From the way Stone’s back stiffened, she was sure he’d heard her. Too bad.

  The rest of their journey passed in near silence, Stone speaking only when necessity required it. The tributary they’d been following joined up with the main river. Stone continued to lead the way. She followed behind. It seemed a more arduous journey without the friendly chatter from earlier in the day.

  Tina spent the time in thought, alternately cursing him for being so closemouthed and then speculating why he was so reticent. She came up with a number of theories, some plausible, others preposterous. In the end, it didn’t really matter, she was just glad he finally seemed ready to converse again, even if it was only about their mission.

  “We’re within a few miles of the embassy the Duffys established.” Stone took off his pack. “I’m going to cut through the jungle and do some reconnaissance.”

  “Through the jungle? But—”

  “In my wolf form.”

  “A wolf in the jungle? Won’t that cause questions? I mean, they’re not endemic to the area, are they?”

  “No, but I doubt anyone will see me.” He scanned the area, then gave a nod. “This is a safe place for you to stay. The river banks are wide and if you stay near the edge the water isn’t too deep. Just don’t go too far in.”

  “I won’t.”

  “There are some palm trees for shade.”

  “I can lounge in the hammock reading that survival book. It will be almost like being at the beach on vacation.” She tried to sound positive.

  “Good idea. I’ll be a couple of hours at least, maybe more.”

  Tina put on a brave smile, despite the fact that an extended period of time by herself in the jungle was more than a little daunting. “I’ll hold the fort while you’re gone; start a fire, maybe try to catch some fish.”

  Stone nodded his approval. “Just don’t go into the jungle. Stay near the river. If I’m not back by nightfall, don’t go looking for me. Wait until dawn, then head back the way we came. Use the sat-phone to contact Reno. He’ll help you. I’m leaving the AK-47, it’s awkward to shift with large objects. Use it for protection if you need to.”

  “Got it, but you’ll come back. I’ve no worries on that front.” She spoke with confidence refusing to allow any negative thoughts to creep into her mind.

  “That’s what I like, positive thinking.” Stone cupped her cheek and stared at her for moment, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. His palm felt rough yet oddly comforting. “I mean it. Do not, under any circumstances, go looking for me.”

  After the silent treatment she’d been given for the past hour or more, his apparent concern came as a surprise. She looked up into his stony eyes. They seemed softer, less intimidating than usual. Was there even a glimmer of warmth or were they just reflecting the sunlight on the river? Before she could decide, he pressed a brief kiss to her forehead then stepped away. The air around him shimmered and suddenly a large, wolf stood before her. It was grey, its thick fur tipped with black, its eyes as black as those of the man who had been there just moments before. It gave a sharp yip of acknowledgement then turned and disappeared among the trees.

  Stone padded through the jungle, the ground soft and warm under his paws. He ducked under leafy fronds and carefully stepped over exposed roots. Keenly aware of the foreign environment they now traversed, his wolf was more alert than ever. The smell of moisture and decaying vegetation permeated the air, yet layered upon it was the scent of unknown creatures and exotic flowers.

  There is much to explore in this territory. The wolf looked about curiously. Basic instinct momentarily vied against its sense of duty but soon the animal continued on its way. We are on a mission, potential danger lurks everywhere. The need to be on guard can not be ignored.

  Sights, scents and sounds were absorbed, analyzed and categorized against information they’d gained on other missions. Each job had its own adversities; desert sand, the mass of humanity in a city, the frozen ground of the far north, the pungent heat of the jungle. Yet each challenge strengthened the bond between man and beast, honing their skills, tightening their connection, making them a formidable force to be reckoned with. He and his wolf were as one, firm in their resolve, functioning seamlessly as one unit, each allowing the other to take control when needed. There was no power struggle in their relationship, at least not since they’d realized the true purpose of their existence. They had a job to do and that was what they focused on.

  It was for that reason that Stone now took the backseat, allowing his wolf to pick the path and pace needed. As always, his wolf chose well. Only as they neared their destination did the animal falter. The lingering stench of death caught its attention. It paused, one foot raised, ears twitching and then veered to follow the scent into the surrounding jungle.

  Broken leaves, scuff marks in the soil; something heavy has been dragged this way. With its nose to the ground, the wolf examined the evidence then lifted its head to study the surrounding foliage. The edges of the leaves are damaged but already brown and dry. This happened several days ago.

  Even though there seemed to be no immediate danger, the animal’s steps instinctively slowed as it neared the source of the foul odour.

  Death. They’d encountered it before in many forms. Still, the grim site had the wolf’s lips curling back to show its teeth, its ears flattening as it took in the gruesome scene before them.

  Flies swarmed the area, the stench of decay filling the air. Shallow graves had once been dug here, but scavengers had disturbed the dead. Mangled bits of the corpses were now scattered about like pieces of garbage, while nearby wild flowers seemed to form a macabre funeral tribute.

  Bile rose in Stone’s throat and his wolf wanted to howl in rage, but they both fought against those basic reactions. They had a job to do and emotional reactions were of no help.

  He returned to his human form, hands clenched at his side as his gaze skimmed over the bits of clothing and bone that remained, forlorn fragments of the humans they had once formed.

  “Shallow graves mean the burial was quick, the only purpose was to get rid of the bodies.” He communicated his observations to his wolf, a habit he’d developed over years of being by himself. “A lack of markers or rocks to deter scavengers indicates the dead individuals were likely considered outsiders.”

  His wolf twitched its ears and drew his attention to the scattering of the remains. Animals have been raiding the site, digging up the bodies, fighting over various bits and carrying off whatever pieces weren’t immediately consumed. Only scraps of clothing and bone are left.

  Stone concurred as he carefully picked his way through the morbid scene, insects taking flight around him as he disturbed their feasting on the last few bits of remaining flesh and bone. The ecosystem of a rainforest was decidedly efficient, but not for those with a weak stomach.

  He examined the shreds of cloth and bone, viewing them as inanimate objects that could provide essential clues. His efficiency would be compromised if he allowed himself to think of them as members of a young idealistic family with hopes and aspirations.

  His wolf wasn’t quite as detached, a constant rumble rising from its throat. We need to avenge their deaths.

  “We will,” Stone reassured the be
ast. “Just as we have on other missions. When the time is right, we’ll mete out justice.”

  A skull, half buried, caught his attention and he crouched to take a closer look, gently brushing the concealing leaves away. It showed the cause of death. A bullet to the back of the head. They’d been shot, execution style, not even allowed to face their killers.

  He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking as he struggled to control his rage. Had they been forced to beg for their lives, for the lives of their children, only to be denied once stripped of their dignity? The bastards who had done this would receive equal treatment if he had his way.

  Pushing to his feet, he continued his search. The femur he found had belonged to an adult, a male given the size. The collar bone and scapula were finer, likely a female. Part of a brassiere, a leather loafer, some denim; the remains of clothing that had belonged to adults.

  “No evidence of children,” he concluded, “though it could mean the smaller remains had been easier to carry off.”

  Or perhaps the pups are still alive. His wolf pointed out.

  “Let’s hope so. We’ll check out the house, see if we can find any trace of them.”

  Stone shifted back to wolf form and retraced his steps to his original path. The Lycan Embassy wasn’t far away and soon he was hunkered down under a leafy bush, studying the area.

  Men were posted around the perimeter, militia from the looks of it. They were wearing camo, carrying assault rifles and extra ammunition. Narrowing his eyes, he noted similar tattoos on their arms, likely some kind of membership mark. Something or someone of significance must still be at the former embassy if it warranted guarding. Perhaps the building was now being used as a checkpoint. With the main Cantalan river close by, it would be a prime location for supervising the transportation of drugs to the coast. And if the embassy was in use, there wasn’t much chance that the Duffy children were still inside. He’d need visual confirmation of that fact though and that meant looking inside the house.

  It was definitely not your typical jungle abode, more of a luxury retreat. The Duffys had certainly spared no expense when choosing their home. It was a large, sprawling one storey building made of stone with a low-pitched tile roof and a veranda surrounding the entire structure. Windows dotted the walls, some shuttered while others were wide open likely in the hopes of catching a breeze. A cobblestoned drive led up to the building and pots of exotic flowers flanked the front door. Around the house, small terraced areas with flower laden pergolas dotted the garden. Each was connected to the next by a water feature that eventually spilled into a large swimming pool. The area around it had been cleared of most of the trees so light spilled into the garden. Clusters of long ornamental grasses grew near the walls and flowering shrubs created a variety of edges and focal points. The serendipitous location of shrubs and shadows would work in his favour, making it possible for him to reach the building unseen.