“Enough of this pointless conversation, Sylvanis. Your arrogance in believing I need you for anything is humorous.” Turning from Sylvanis. “I might have one day said this was going to pain me. That I would grieve after you were dead, but since you stabbed me in the heart, I feel less remorseful about it.”
There was a loud thud from near the fence behind her. Turning, she couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Syndor?” Impossibly, the man she would have assumed dead centuries ago, stood before her. “Did you also cast that vile spell as well?”
A slight smile crept up on Syndor’s mouth.
“It’s Samuel now. I wondered how your spell would play out.” He examined her. “The same, yet different, fascinating.” He shifted, cobra form, neck flaring.
Sylvanis had gambled poorly it seemed. By allowing her presence to be felt by others, she knew it would allow Kestrel to find her. If Kestrel had come alone, she could at least hold off any attacks, if not defeat her.
Figuring Kestrel knew this as well, she would wait till she could round up some of her minions. Hopefully giving her time for hers to arrive. She never believed for a moment Syndor would have found a way to survive. He must have been waiting for Kestrel’s spell to activate, and then it was a matter of showing up at the Calendar.
She didn’t think she could take them both. She was sure she couldn’t. She needed to act, and act now.
“Coirt,” she whispered, and her skin transformed into a rough, thick bark. Syndor started toward her.
“Talamh titim.” The ground beneath Syndor’s feet drop away as she uttered her spell. He fell, his momentum slamming him into the far wall of the pit she opened beneath him. Turning towards Kestrel, who surprisingly hadn’t made a move, made her hesitate.
“My Lady, what do you wish me to do with these two?” A voice called out from behind her, near the house. A sense of dread creeped into Sylvanis as she saw the wicked smile twist upon Kestrel’s mouth.
Sylvanis turned towards the voice.
Standing near the house was a Werecroc. Not Answi, he at least, had died at Calin’s hands a long time ago. Clearly a descendent though, whose lycanthropy had been passed on to him by his bloodline.
She was doomed. Foolishly, she had believed, she might be able to defeat Syndor and Kestrel. It wasn’t the addition of this new Were which doomed her, though. It was what, or rather, who, he held. Hanging limp from each of his upraised arms were her parents, trussed up and gagged, which was the only way she could tell they were still alive. She closed her eyes.
“Did you think I wouldn’t cover all my options, Sylvanis? I am not going to make a mistake like you did when you killed me. No. You will surrender yourself to me, and I will take your life. Your fight is at an end, or I will have Gordon over there kill your parents. He is fond of human flesh it seems. It happens sometimes among the Weres. Once they taste it, they want more and more of it. I’m sure your parents will make a nice meal for him, unless you give up now.”
Sylvanis was trapped. If she gave up, Kestrel would indeed kill her, and she held no doubts about the real fate of her parents, regardless of what Kestrel claimed. Unless...
Straightening, she turned back towards Kestrel. “Your oath?”
“My oath on what?”
“You will allow my parents to go, and you or your minions will never harm them if I surrender.”
The expression on Kestrel’s face confirmed her fears of Kestrel’s intent. Kestrel smoothed her face, and nodded, reluctantly.
“You have my oath; they will not be harmed.”
A low growl came from behind her and Kestrel turned to the Were with a glare, whose growling swiftly subsided.
“There. It is done.” Kestrel pulled a dagger from a sheath resting in the small of her back.
Sighing, Sylvanis stepped forward to approach Kestrel when she heard two thumps and a loud grunt from behind her. Kestrel’s eyes widened and Sylvanis knew something happened. Kestrel lunged at her desperately with the dagger. Diving to her left, she felt the dagger score off her barked skin harmlessly.
Rolling, Sylvanis sprang to her feet to take in the scene. She couldn’t help but feel a little bit of joy at what she was seeing. Her gamble may have paid off after all.
The Werecroc was on his knees in the grass, his hands pressing against either side of his back, pain was evident in his eyes. On either side of him, a short distance away, setting her parents down in the grass were two Werefoxes, a male and a female. They straightened almost synchronously, and faced off against Kestrel who, when she lunged at Sylvanis, made her stumble closer to the scene.
“I’m not all too sure what the hell is going on here,” the female fox said. “But I’m going to suggest you and your crocodile friend here leave.”
When Kestrel re-acted, Sylvanis was waiting. She knew her too well.
“Tine!” Kestrel shouted, pointing at the bodies of her parents.
“Uisce!” Sylvanis’ hands shot out; fingers spread. Just as fire erupted from the ground around her parents, water doused them, putting the fires out.
“That was a mistake, lady,” the male fox stated, and both foxes started towards Kestrel.
They were closing the gap when Syndor, totally forgotten, leapt out of the pit where he had been waiting patiently, landing between Kestrel and the two foxes. His tail swung out and wrapped around the ankle of the female fox, pulling her from her feet.
A loud growl escaped from the male fox as he charged Syndor whose neck flared. Syndor spat at him. Syndor was an old blood True, he had fought other Weres before, and was skillful at it. The spit hit the fox square in the eyes, blinding him and bringing him to a stop, trying to wipe the stinging spit from his vision. A tail slap from the Werecroc, who had regained his feet and entered the fray, sent him flying. The male fox slammed through the fence on the far side of the yard, tossing wood everywhere.
Meanwhile the female fox pounced to her feet and avoided a tail attack from Syndor, deftly moving behind him, leaping onto his back, her teeth burying into the back of Syndor’s neck. Thrashing about, trying to throw her. Sylvanis watched as the Werecroc moved towards the fence to finish off the male fox.
“Balla Cloiche” palms out, Sylvanis called upon the power of earth, as dirt and stone erupted from the ground before the hole in the fence, creating a barrier to slow the Croc.
Sylvanis narrowly got out of the way as Kestrel launched another attack upon her. A snake like column of stone slammed into the spot where she had stood. She watched as Kestrel lifted her hands and the column rose back into the air, like a giant stone snake, to swing sideways toward her.
She wasn’t quick enough this time; the column slammed into her. Barked skin was the only reason her ribcage didn’t break when it hit her. The stone snake carried her a short distance through the air. The column stopped. She didn’t. Airborne for a little bit more, she hit the ground, hard, tumbling to a stop.
Stephanie held on as long as she could, but the Snake was skilled. He managed to throw her, but not before she tore a sizeable chunk out of his neck, which oozed blood into her mouth. Spitting it out onto the ground, she knelt on one knee, one hand pressed to the ground and the other pressed against her elevated knee, searching for another opening. The Snake faced her, a small distance away.
She hoped Jason was okay. That tail had given him one hell of a hit. Glancing in the direction he had flown, the Croc, who was momentarily thwarted by a dirt and rock wall, moved to the side of the wall and was beginning to rip the fence apart to reach Jason.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the blonde girl get slammed by some sort of flying stone column, sending her airborne. This was not going well. Returning her attention to the Snake, she saw what seemed like a smile creep up on his face, as if he was aware of what transpired behind him, and knew it was only a matter of time before this fight was his.
The problem was, Stephanie was afraid he was right. She had never been a fighter. This was not something she was pr
epared for. Of course, she had increased strength and speed, but evidently so did the Snake, so her advantage was negated by his equality to her in attributes. Worse, he knew what he was doing, which meant he was going to kick her ass.
Who was she kidding, this wasn’t a playground fight, this thing wasn’t going to beat her up and leave. He was going to beat her up and kill her. Wishing Jason was here, probably the two of them could take him, but she had a feeling when the Croc got to him, Jason wasn’t going to last long, either.
The column of stone curled upwards almost straight into the air behind the Snake. It was then she saw the black-haired woman, her arms held upwards, facing the column. It occurred to Stephanie the woman was in control of the stones. Maybe she couldn’t take the Snake, but she sure as hell could take that bitch.
Charging the Snake, she used her new-found speed to get to him as swiftly as possible. The moment she saw him brace for her attack, she increased her speed and dodged around him, heading straight at the black-haired woman.
Glancing to her right, she saw the column hanging over the blonde-haired woman, who was slowly lifting herself off the ground, shaking her head, as if trying to clear her thoughts. It was clear she wasn’t aware of the impending threat, literally looming over her. If Stephanie could reach the woman in time, she might be able to stop the attack from happening.
Stephanie was a few feet from the black-haired woman. Launching herself into the air to tackle her, she felt a scaly tail wrap around her midsection and slam her into the ground - just out of reach of the woman. The woman gazed down at her and smiled. Stephanie could only watch as the woman’s arms swept downward. The column descended.
Consciousness returned with the sound of nearby wood being torn asunder. Jason, his vision blurry, climbed to his feet. He could feel his body knitting his broken bones… an unusual feeling. Glancing down at a throbbing pain at his side, a piece of wood jutted from his abdomen. Its splintered end was soaked in his blood. Grunting, he reached around at the end puncturing his back and pulled. It eased out of his body with a sickening sucking sound.
Jason knew he only had a few moments to gather his wits. Glancing towards the sounds which had awakened him, he saw the Croc pulling out the last plank of wood preventing his passage through the fence. Curiously, Jason noticed the dirt and stone wall blocking where he knew he had broken through. Promptly dismissing it as irrelevant to his survival, he turned to the now emerging Croc.
Everything happened so quick back at the house when he and Stephanie arrived, he never got a decent view at the thing. He did now. It towered over him by a foot and a half, possibly two. Where Jason’s body was muscularly defined, this thing was bulging with muscles, corded, under scaly skin. Jason was dead meat, and he knew it. So did the Croc.
“I’ve never had fox meat,” it growled. “But I bet it’s tasty.”
“I hope you choke!” Jason shouted at him in defiance, and moved in to attack. Launching several punches on the softer underbelly of the Croc, it grunted with each hit, then chuckled at Jason.
Two massive clawed hands slammed into either side of his head, causing him to black out momentarily. He was lifted into the air by his head. The croc turned and slammed him into the stone wall, not letting go. Jason clawed at the Croc’s arms holding him, gouging them severely, but the thing wouldn’t drop him.
“When I take my first bite out of you... Scream... Please?” The cruel light in the Croc’s eyes and the prospect of being eaten alive frightened him more than anything he had ever encountered in his life.
The Croc lifted him higher and Jason watched in horror as the thing turned its head, its maw opening to rip into his midsection.
The right hook which hit the side of the Croc’s head was so forceful, Jason could hear the Croc’s jaw break, and its head snapped back by the force of the blow. The Croc stumbled back, releasing Jason. Landing on weak legs, the reality of how close he came to dying, sank in.
Jason turned towards his savior. A large Werebear stood before him, rubbing his sizeable paw with the other one to rub out the pain from the impact with the Croc’s jaw. The bear eyed him up and down.
“I’m not sure whose side I should be on, but that thing appears a hell of a lot meaner than you.” The bear watched him warily.
“Thanks, I’m Jason, and yeah, if you want my opinion, he is one evil son of a bitch.”
“Simon. And you’re welcome.” Simon turned, the Croc who was watching both, warily, resetting its jaw with a popping sound.
“Now,” he began moving toward the Croc. “Let’s take care of this thing.”
The column descended and there was nothing Sylvanis could do about it. She had lost this time. Kestrel would declare war on civilization and there would be nobody with the knowledge and the ability to stop her.
Curling herself into a ball, she waited for the column to crush her. Suddenly, something bulky loomed over and covered her. A hairy form enveloped, shielding her. She could still feel the impact of the column as it slammed into the guardian’s body above her with a grunt. After a moment, she opened her eyes and she peered at the face of a Werebear.
“You okay?” he asked in a low rumbling voice.
“Me? You are the one who got a ton of rocks dropped on him!”
“Yeah, and believe me, it hurt. I hope you are worth it.” Before she had time to retort, he was off her.
Sylvanis rose to her feet. The column of stone lay upon the ground, shattered at the point where it had impacted upon the Werebear. Kestrel stood facing her with her arms at her sides, stunned disbelief evident on her face.
The Werefox was lying on the ground almost at Kestrel’s feet, Syndor’s tail still wrapped around her waist. Both watched her, as well as the Bear. The whole scene seemed frozen in time, with no one making a move.
The silence was interrupted by a loud roar from the other side of the fence where the Fox and the Croc had gone. They all turned towards the sound as the Croc came diving through the hole he had created a short time earlier. He was followed shortly by another Bear and the Fox.
Everyone was brought up short as the newcomers took in the scene before them as well. It was obvious the odds had shifted. Sylvanis turned back towards Kestrel. The fury showed livid upon Kestrel’s face. She glared at Sylvanis.
“This isn’t over, Sylvanis. You may have won today, but when we meet again, you will die!” Her arms shot skyward, palms up. “Brocamas Stoirm!”
The ground erupted over the entire yard. Dirt shot skyward, filling the air with dust and debris, making vision negligible. Everyone fell into a fit of coughing as they inadvertently inhaled the dirt and dust.
By the time Sylvanis got a breath in and cast her spell to send a strong gust of wind to blow the dirt away, she knew it was too late. Kestrel and her minions were gone, leaving Sylvanis alone with her new-found companions. Taking a moment to study them, they did the same, two foxes and two bears. It was a start. She wondered where the other two might be?
Sylvanis stared off in the distance. There were others missing from Kestrel’s group as well. Hopefully, their line had ended a long time ago.
“These two are alive, but still unconscious.” The female fox called from where Sylvanis’ parents lay.
Sylvanis breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted was her parents to have come to harm. It was bad enough they had effectively lost their daughter.
“Please, take them inside. You have questions, yes? I have answers. Not all of them, but a start.”
“Mín Craiceann,” Sylvanis ended her bark skin spell, her body reverting to its original flesh. The two foxes picked up her parents and moved inside. The bears she noticed reverted to their human form.
One was a hulking man, over six feet, broad of shoulders and back, heavily muscular, genuinely a bear of a man, as well. Long dark brown hair framed a rough, chiseled face with a blunt nose and bushy eyebrows over soft blue eyes. He felt like a man she could trust implicitly. Next to him was a young man, t
all, but not as tall as the man.
Their demeanor together suggested they were father and son, but the looks told a different story. Apart from the height, they had almost no resemblance. The man was all hard lines and where he wasn’t exactly attractive, he was distinct. The boy was plain, with fleshy, almost plump cheeks, and thin lips. He had brown, wavy hair, where the man’s was straight and without form.
The boy was fit and well proportioned, but nothing like the man who was in remarkable shape from a long life of doing manual labor. Approaching them, she greeted the man first.
“I wanted to thank you. I do believe I would have perished if not for your actions.”
“Well.” He appeared uncomfortable with the praise. “If it had been the other one about to be smashed, I perhaps would’ve intervened for her. It was a lucky guess of the circumstances to see me save you.” He shuffled. “I could sense you to some extent but couldn’t discern which one of you was drawing me.”
Cocking her head, she considered. “Yes, of course. This close to Kestrel, and with both of us emitting power, I could see how it would have been confusing for you. Well,” she smiled at him, “I’m glad you made the choice you did.” Her smile included both.
“My name is Sylvanis. As I said, you must have questions and I will do all I can to answer them. However, I would suggest we move inside. It is likely the noise we made will draw snoops.”
“The name’s Hank. This is Sim, my son. And yes, we have a lot of questions.”
Nodding, she beckoned them into the house.
When they entered, a man and a woman were descending the stairs. The woman drew Sylvanis’ attention first, short, with a well-formed feminine body. She was fair of skin, with delicate features.
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