by Logan Jacobs
“Is it being controlled by the mage?” Freya asked as the animal sniffed at the air.
“No,” Sorcha replied. “He’s here under his own power, and I don’t think he cares much for having all these humans around.”
“The noise of all those birds and squirrels probably got his attention,” Darwin stated.
The bear roared again, then walked slowly up to the glass window. It stood up on its back legs and peered inside at the four of us.
“Sorcha, can you convince it to go away since the other mage isn’t controlling it?” I asked.
“I can try,” she said. “Though I’m not nearly as good with animals.”
The bear leaned forward at that moment and placed one massive paw against the window. We all held our breaths, and both Darwin and I lifted our guns, but the glass held, and Sorcha slowly reached a hand toward the bear. It caught the motion of her hand and swiveled toward her for a better look.
Bear and Irishwoman both grunted, and a frown creased Sorcha’s face. After a moment, the bear stepped back and dropped to all fours, then walked slowly back toward the trees. We saw the branches swish as the bear retreated into the woods, and then, bit by bit, the birds started to call again.
“At least we won’t have to deal with a bear as well,” Freya laughed as she tried to relieve some of the tension in the room.
“How close are the mages?” I asked Sorcha.
“Close,” she replied. “And that hawk out there is making sure we don’t leave before they get here.”
I spotted the bird she mentioned, a goshawk that sat in the topmost branches of a pine tree. Its gaze was fixed on the gaseteria despite the wide variety of prey that scurried by.
“So let’s give them a warm welcome,” Darwin grunted as he studied the window.
“We will,” I assured him. “But let’s make sure it’s just the two of them, first.”
“Do you sense any more mages?” Freya asked as she peered over Sorcha’s shoulder at the goshawk.
“No,” the Irishwoman replied after a moment. “But that doesn’t mean they haven’t signalled for more mages. Especially if they think we’ve holed up for good.”
“Should we go ahead and leave?” Freya asked. “We could take out that hawk easily enough.”
“That doesn’t solve the problem,” I pointed out. “The mage would just send more animals until we’re so worn down that we can’t fight him. We have to kill the mage, not the goshawk.”
Freya sighed, but nodded, and after a moment, she went over to check on the horses. I saw her talk to them for a moment, and then she dug through one of the packs until she found some of the nut mix we’d picked up along the way. She opened the bag, poured some of the nuts into her palm, then sat down on the floor near the table where the chipmunks had disappeared. A moment later, a small paw darted out and grabbed one of the nuts from her hand. A second paw repeated the motion a few seconds later, and then both chipmunks stepped cautiously from beneath the table and approached the mutant.
“She’s always been good with animals,” Darwin noted as he watched his granddaughter feed the chipmunks. “She gets it from her grandmother. She used to feed the animals around our house all the time. Even had names for all of them.”
“There was a family of hedgehogs that lived near our house in Ireland,” Sorcha mused. “I used to watch them and make up stories about their adventures.”
“I always liked watching the birds, especially the raptors,” I added a moment later. “Bugs were kind of fun, too.”
“Grandma claims that gramps here used to talk to a possum,” Freya added as she replaced the bag of nuts, then returned to the table where we had sat down to wait.
“That possum,” Darwin muttered. “Hadn’t thought about it in years. Liked to spend the winter in the garage, and it always found a way in, no matter what I did.”
“Grandma says you finally gave up and reached an agreement,” Freya teased.
“It was easier that way,” Darwin huffed.
“He started taking food out to it,” Freya added in a conspiratorial whisper.
Darwin snorted but didn’t offer any denials.
“I like possums,” Sorcha said. “They just do what they want, and if anyone gets in their way, they hiss and keep going.”
“They’re also great pest control,” Darwin admitted. “They’ll take care of rats, roaches, slugs, beetles, ticks, and pretty much anything that’s a threat to a garden or field.”
“Is that why you wanted it to stay?” I asked.
“Never had a problem with mice or rats once the possum moved in,” Darwin asserted.
“They’re close,” Sorcha warned as she suddenly sat up straight and peered through the glass.
“Everyone, away from the glass,” Darwin ordered. “As soon as they’re in sight, we’ll blow the glass, then shoot the mages. I’ll fire first, and that should clear most of the window.”
“Got it,” I said as I stood up and started to ease away from the pane.
“There,” Freya whispered as her ears swiveled toward the left.
We all looked toward the left, though there was no obvious sign of anyone moving through the trees. Unlike the bear, the mages didn’t leave a trail of snapping twigs and rustling leaves.
“Where the hell are they?” Darwin muttered as we scanned the woods.
Finally, I caught a glimpse of red among the trees. I heard Darwin mutter a curse word as he raised the rifle, and Sorcha made a sound very much like a growl. I had the Glock ready to fire, even before the mage finally stepped into view.
It was a woman, with a narrow face and two large eyes that were the same color as the goshawk’s. Brown hair hung in neat rows along her scalp as she watched the gaseteria from around the edge of a tree.
“That’s one,” I announced. “Anyone see the other?”
“Not yet,” Freya replied.
As we waited for the second mage to appear, a lynx stepped from the shadows and paused next to the mage. The goshawk sent up an alarm call, then flew back toward the road as the rest of the birds scattered through the woods.
“I’ll bet she sends that lynx in here first,” Darwin declared as he raised the Winchester.
“It’s not a lynx,” Sorcha warned. “It’s a mage.”
“Shapeshifter,” I uttered as I eyed the feline.
“Shit,” the four of us muttered as the lynx began to morph into a larger and more dangerous cat.
I’d only seen pictures of the striped cat and heard stories about how big they were. It had all seemed a bit fantastic, though all the Reese children, the family that had taken me in after the deaths of my own parents, swore up and down that they had seen one in a zoo once. And now it was my turn to admire the brilliant orange coat, the black stripes, and the very large teeth. My mother’s favorite poem about a tiger burning bright suddenly made much more sense.
“I didn’t think shapeshifters could do that,” Freya whispered.
“Only the best can manage more than one shape,” Sorcha replied.
“All the more reason to take it out,” Darwin declared as he pointed the rifle toward the tiger that now stood next to the mage.
The sound of the Winchester drowned out everything else until the bullet passed through the glass. The fifty-year-old windows splintered and sent a cascade of shards into the air. But the mages must have seen Darwin point the rifle and understood that significance because when the smoke cleared and the last bits of glass fell to the ground, the tiger was gone and the woman in the red robe had ducked out of view behind another tree.
“Well, damn,” Darwin muttered. “Why don’t they ever just stand still?”
Chapter 3
“Where’d the shapeshifter go?” I yelled as I tried to peer around the edge of the glass.
“To the right,” both Sorcha and Freya replied in unison.
I studied the area toward the right and just picked out the sleek coat as it moved through the brush.
“
We need to take care of the woman first,” I stated as I looked back toward the tree where the control mage had taken cover.
“I just need a clear shot,” Darwin replied.
A flock of starlings suddenly dropped from the sky and flew through the shattered window. They swarmed around the gaseteria while the four of us joined the chipmunks under the tables.
“This is getting annoying,” Freya huffed. “We really need to get rid of that woman.”
Before any of us could respond, a deep roar echoed through the building. It wasn’t a bear, I knew that much, and I could only guess the bonequaking noise came from the tiger. And judging by the sound, it was at the demolished window.
The roar was followed a moment later by the sound of something large dropping to the ground inside the gaseteria, just on our other side of the window. The starling flock suddenly went quiet, then flew back outside in one swift motion.
With the birds gone, the four of us crawled out from under the tables and looked around. The tiger was only a few feet away, its claws and teeth on full display. Darwin, Freya and I all pointed our guns at the massive feline, but just as quickly, a group of mice began to fall from the ceiling.
The tiger leapt just as I fired the Glock. I managed to fire two bullets with the quick action of the nine millimeter, but I only saw one hit home. A flower of blood appeared near the tiger’s front leg, though the beast barely noticed. The rapid fire of the glock was joined by the crack of Darwin’s Winchester a mere heartbeat later, and I saw another spurt of blood near the cat’s hindquarters.
The cat dropped to the ground, then leapt back through the window as I tried to fire another round. Both Glocks and the Winchester resounded through the gaseteria, but the tiger was through the window and into the woods with only a thin trail of blood to show for our efforts.
Sorcha, I saw, had moved closer to the edge of the window during our exchange with the shapeshifter, the bow at the ready. Her gaze was locked on a flash of red, and then she suddenly stepped into full view and launched an arrow. I heard a surprised cry, and then the control mage stumbled into view, Sorcha’s arrow planted firmly in her right shoulder.
That was all I needed. I pointed the Glock at the red robed mage before she could move behind another tree and fired two more quick shots.
This time, both bullets found their target, and blood sprayed out from wounds to the chest. Blood exploded across the snow and dirt and turned the leaves of the encroaching vines a deep red. The acrid tang of the gun still hung in the air as the mage jerked from the impact, then dropped to the ground like a sack of flour, her knees bent back, and her feet trapped under her torso.
The tiger roared again, a bone rattling sound that sent the rest of the nearby wildlife scurrying for cover and nearly sent the horses into a panic. We all pointed our weapons in the direction of the sound, but nothing emerged from the undergrowth. We waited several heartbeats, and then I spotted a burst of orange as the tiger moved back toward the road. Darwin was able to fire a shot, but I saw snow kick up as the tiger veered back into the trees, and then there was nothing but a few drops of blood and some very large pawprints.
“Did it leave?” Freya asked cautiously when the tiger failed to reappear after several minutes.
“It’s moving away,” Sorcha replied.
“Should we track it?” Freya suggested as she sniffed the air. “Maybe kill it before it makes it back to the Magesterium?”
“They’ll just send more mages when these two don’t report in,” Sorcha pointed out.
“And we’ll lose too much time and ground by chasing after it,” I added. “We need to keep heading west, see if we can’t put some more distance between us and whoever the Magesterium sends next.”
“As much as I hate to leave one of them alive,” Darwin sighed. “I think you’re right. Let’s get moving, see if we can’t find somewhere to hole up in for the night before the next wave of mages or mutants or whatever decides to attack us.”
Freya looked like she still wanted to track the tiger, but she nodded and tucked the Glock back into her pocket.
“How close are we to Scranton-Barre?” I asked.
“Not close enough to be there by nightfall,” Darwin replied. “Realistically, we’ve got a few days yet on the road.”
“Maybe we should check the atlas tonight, see if there’s an easier way to get there,” I suggested.
“Fine with me,” Darwin agreed. “But first, we need to get away from here.”
We kept our weapons in the ready position as we led the horses back outside. We paused just outside the door, but the normal sounds of the forest started to fill the air again, and none of us could find any sign of the tiger, even with Sorcha’s magic and Freya’s mutant skills. With a nod from Darwin, we made our way back to the road and started the long walk toward Scranton-Barre.
The animals, the battle with the mages, and even the snow managed to slow us down. We only made it a few more miles further west by the time the sun hung low in the sky, and even though we hadn’t made it that far, each of us was sore and bloody from the attacks.
“I could really use a healer,” Sorcha sighed as she took in the endless forest.
“There must be another town along here somewhere,” Darwin grumbled as he peered down the road. “How far did that man say it was to Pontius?”
“He didn’t,” I noted. “But it’s got to be close. He seemed to think we could get there by nightfall.”
“That was if we didn’t run into any problems,” Freya pointed out. “Do you want me to scout ahead again?”
“Just be careful,” Darwin called out as the rabbit woman sprinted ahead without waiting for an answer.
“She’s incredibly fast,” I commented as I watched her lithe form disappear down the road.
“Doesn’t tire as quickly as regular humans, either,” Darwin replied. “She loves to run and jump, but she doesn’t get to do it very often, at least, not when other people are around.”
“I’d love to run and jump as well if I could move like that,” Sorcha laughed.
“But if Darwin is right, and we’re all mutants, maybe you can,” I teased. “Maybe you just haven’t discovered your potential yet.”
“That applies to you as well,” Sorcha replied with a grin. “How do you know you can’t jump into that tree?”
“Well, I’ve never tried,” I declared as I eyed the nearest limbs.
“And now isn’t the time to test it out,” Darwin harrumphed. “May I remind you that there’s still a shapeshifter on the loose?”
“Sorry,” Sorcha and I both replied, though Sorcha’s giggles undercut our attempts to be serious.
Darwin snorted, a sound which was repeated by both of the horses.
“Do you really think everyone is just a mutant?” I asked after the ex-trooper gave both of the horses a warning look.
“I’d say the definition of mutant covers more ground than the mages are willing to admit,” Darwin said thoughtfully. “In my mind, mutants should include mages, shapeshifters, those things in the tunnel. It’s pretty obvious that they all have human DNA, but it’s been altered in some way. There’s a lot of these new animals that fit into that category as well.”
“The Magesterium would never stand for that type of teaching,” Sorcha mused.
“Well, it’s hard to claim you’re better than everyone else when everyone else is really just like you,” Darwin replied. “For all their magic, mages aren’t any different from Freya or me.”
I thought about that for a few moments, until I saw a long-legged form running back toward us. I felt a grin stretch across my face as I saw Freya draw near, and as she slowed down to a walk as she drew even with us, she gave me a grin of her own.
“There’s a town just ahead, but I don’t think it’s Pontius,” she replied. “It’s pretty small, and I didn’t see much in the way of entertainment options. There is an inn, though.”
“Can we make it before sunset?” Sorcha asked.<
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“Easily,” Freya replied. “There’s a small turnoff just ahead, which is how I found it. A lot of cart tracks and hay on the road, so I would guess it’s a farm town.”
Freya led us to a rutted road that was, as promised, littered with hay and more than a few piles of horse and cow dung. We stopped just before we reached the town so we could hide the guns and Freya’s ears and make one last check for the shapeshifter.
“Something smells good,” Darwin noted as he took a sniff of the air. “At least one person in this town knows how to cook.”
“Maybe you can talk them into cooking that turkey,” Sorcha replied. “Before it goes bad.”
“I’m sure I can find a kitchen I can use,” Darwin chuckled.
Of course, I’d seen plenty of roads just like the one we were on during my years on cattle drives, and I could almost predict what would lie at the other end. Small town, small buildings, dusty roads. After a while, these places all started to look the same.
And I wouldn’t have been far off. We were greeted by a collection of mostly wood buildings, gray and weatherbeaten, and none more than two stories tall, one main road covered in dust, and a barricade of sharpened logs that were the only things that looked new. Our arrival was greeted with wary looks from the locals, and the guard at the barricade looked as if he wouldn’t let us in for a moment. I’d encountered unfriendly towns before and was always happy to be gone in the morning.
“We’re just looking for rooms for the night,” Darwin offered as he tucked his sunglasses into a pocket.
“Where did you come from?” the guard asked suspiciously.
Apparently, unknown visitors were uncommon in this part of the country.
“We’re on our way to Scranton-Barre,” Darwin replied. “But we got a bit sidetracked and didn’t make it as far as we’d hoped.”
The guard studied our travel-stained clothes and whatever bruises he could see in the fading light. He glanced toward the sun, then toward the town, then finally looked back at us.
“If you come in, you’re in for the night,” the guard warned. “No one steps outside once the sun sets.”
“We weren’t planning on leaving until morning,” Darwin assured him.
