by James Gough
Placing the tip of his nose to the ground, he inhaled deeply, searching for his next course. The chirping phone made him flinch and lose a fresh possum trail. A deep rumble of rage escaped his chest. He hated taking calls in the middle of a meal.
“What?” he growled.
“I have a new assignment for you,” a voice hissed through the phone.
“I thought New Jersey was the last,” grumbled the hunter as he followed a strong scent of rat through the brush.
“Plans change. This job is different from the others. More challenging.”
“I like a challenge.”
“I know. That’s why I chose you.”
“What do I have to do?” The rat’s trail got warmer, and the hunter sped up.
“I want you to bring me a boy.”
“A boy?” He thrust his hand into a rotted log and impaled another juicy rat on a single claw. “You said it was a challenge?”
“Oh, it will be. I promise. This one’s special.” The voice related the details as the hunter chewed.
“And one last thing. I want the boy alive.”
The hunter slurped down the last bit of tail. “What’s the fun in that?”
“Just control yourself. No more unscheduled fires,” the voice seethed. “If you succeed, your fee will be doubled, but if you fail me…”
“I never fail,” the hunter growled through sharp teeth, his milky white eyes flaring.
“Good. Do not let this be the first time.” The line went dead.
A sneer slid across the hunter’s face. He spat a tuft of rat fur on the ground and turned his ghastly eyes toward the lights of the city rising above the leafless trees.
Just a helpless boy.
The thought made his mouth water.
The hunt was on.
7
Answers
Somewhere in the blackness an owl screeched. It was a high, haunting sound that sent goose bumps racing up Will’s spine. Will sensed he was in a vast space, maybe underground. The air was heavy and wet. Panic set in.
The owl screamed closer this time.
Something stirred to Will’s right, movement in the blackness. He heard breathing.
The owl screeched again, just above Will’s head. He couldn’t move. Fear had disconnected his body from his mind.
Someone growled his name.
The owl shrieked once more, but the sound melted into a high-pitched beep.
A voice called to him. This time he opened his eyes. The darkness disappeared and blurry shapes came into focus.
The heart monitor beeped again.
“Will? Can you hear me?”
“Mom?” Will’s voice sounded hoarse and scratchy. He tried to sit up, but the tubes and IVs held him to the bed.
“Where am I?”
“Mt. Sinai hospital. You’ve been unconscious for twenty-four hours.”
Will looked around. The lights were dim, but he recognized the bubble identical to the one at home. Outside its plastic, the familiar hallways of Mt. Sinai’s Tuttle Wing were empty except for the occasional nurse. He turned to find his mother, but no one was there. A speakerphone wrapped in plastic sat on the nightstand.
“Mom, where are you?”
“Your father and I are in the Persian Gulf.”
“Hey, Son, feel better soon,” called Mr. Tuttle in the background.
“We would have come, but there was just no way. You understand?”
“Yeah.” Will was used to speaking to his parents halfway around the world.
“Go…od. The connection… bad. I need to tell you something… We fired Nurse Grundel yesterday. We got an anonymous call… she was embezzling money.”
“Grundel is gone?” Will almost jumped out of bed.
“Yes. But don’t worry… We’ve made other plans.”
“What kind of plans?”
“Your… new doctor will ex…plain.”
“What new doctor, Mom? You’re breaking up.”
“… Dr. Noctua. His credentials… impeccable. And he promised… cure. Isn’t that wonderful?”
“Mom, I don’t know a Dr. Noctua.”
“Of course… you do. He saved your life. He told us… about your hal…lucinations.”
“My what?” Will swallowed hard.
“It’s okay… he’ll help the hallucinations. Dr. Noctua told us… you’ve been seeing strange… people that look like animals.”
“What? Mom, you have to listen. Something is wrong.”
“What did you say, Will? You’re breaking up. I think we’re losing… connection. We love you. Tell Dr. Noctua we’ll… check on you… in a few weeks. We’ll talk to…” The line went dead.
“Mom? Dad? I don’t know Dr. Noctua. I don’t think he’s even a real doctor.”
“I most certainly am a real doctor,” said a raspy voice with a German accent from across the room. Standing by the door in a white protective suit was the owl creature, his giant yellow eyes trained on Will from behind the facemask.
Will’s heart monitor started beeping spastically.
The owl-man shuffled forward, leaning on a cane. “I’m certified to practice in thirty-six states, Europe, China, and Antarctica.”
The old owl-man hooted softly, revealing a mouth full of toothless pink gums. He smacked his beak together, making a clicking sound like a wet castanet as he hobbled up beside the bed. Not quite five feet tall, he had to step onto a stool to elevate himself to Will’s bedside level. Inside the mask, the owl-man’s head moved up, down and side to side, as he studied Will from every angle. Attempting to get a closer look, he jutted his face forward until his beak thumped against the inside of his facemask. The owlish man was ancient, his short body bent like a question mark inside the baggy suit. He clicked his beak and extended a gloved hand.
“Dr. Xavior B. Noctua, at your service.”
Will didn’t move. He couldn’t.
“Now, now. Don’t be rude, young man,” hooted Dr. Noctua, thrusting his hand closer.
Will and the doctor eyed each other for a long moment. Trembling, Will shook Dr. Noctua’s…ah…wing. It was a like grabbing a plastic-wrapped feather duster with an amazingly strong grip.
Squeezing Will’s hand, Noctua pulled him closer until his nose was almost touching the doctor’s mask. Will tried to break away, but the strange little owl-man held fast, peering into each of Will’s eyes as though he were trying to see inside his head.
“Well,” hooted the old doctor, “now that you’re awake, why don’t we examine you? Perhaps we can find out what ails you, yes?” Noctua blinked and backed away, letting Will fall back to his pillows. “Kaya, the curtains please.”
“Yes, Doctor,” purred a voice from the shadows near the airlock. Kaya skulked into the light, resting her sharp, emerald eyes on Will. An ominous purr resonated from under her facemask.
With her tail swishing behind her, she prowled through the shadows and yanked the privacy curtains around the inside of the bubble. After jamming a chair against the door to the airlock, Kaya shot a steely look at Will as if to say there is no way out.
“We’re clear,” she purred, nodding to the doctor and removing her plastic hood.
“I do hate these suits,” said Noctua, sucking in a big breath as he took off his hood and unzipped the white, plastic coveralls.
Will watched in terror as the creatures emerged from the sterile gear. He was surrounded, outnumbered—alone with his nightmares.
The cat-woman was first out of her suit. She stepped into the light, adjusting her nurse’s outfit. With her hair pulled back, her soft, pointed ears were visible as they swiveled, following the smallest sound. Will could make out subtle stripes that ran along her neck and down her long, muscular arms. Sharp, painted claws curved from her fingertips, making Will squirm. The cat-woman paced behind the doctor, her slitted green eyes shining in the shadows.
With Kaya prowling, Dr. Noctua shed his protective outfit and shook his head, ruffling the thinning feathers that
had been flattened under the plastic hood. His elderly face wrinkled and drooped like a sock that had lost its elasticity. Enormous bags sagged under his eyes. Patches of unruly feathers and white hair sprung straight out from his balding head at strange angles. With his constantly wide eyes and gravity-defying feathers, Dr. Noctua looked a bit like he had stuck his finger in a light sockeHe stared at Will, clicking his gray, time-worn beak that was chipped and cracked along the edges. His wide mouth lifted at one corner, creating a permanently lopsided grin. Long, feather-tipped arms jutted from the end of his over-sized, white lab coat. Will knew from the grip of Dr. Noctua’s handshake that tremendous strength hid in those feathery fingers. Dr. Noctua hobbled to retrieve his wooden cane. Although his body shook and jostled, his head remained still, never wavering.
Hooting softly, the owl-doctor straightened his bowtie. A fan of tail feathers poked out from under his lab coat, brushing the back of his short legs.
“Well then, Wilhelm,” rasped Dr. Noctua, replacing the Ws with Vs, and the THs with Zs.
“My name is Will,” blurted Will without thinking.
The owl paused and clicked his beak. “I prefer Wilhelm. It fits you better.”
“But…”
The owl-man produced a stethoscope and shuffled forward. “Let’s check those vitals, shall we, Wilhelm?”
Will flinched. Shaking hands was one thing, but being probed by an owl doctor was too freaky.
Jumping out of bed, Will tore away the IVs and electrodes and stumbled away from the owlish old man. “Stay back!” He climbed behind a tray of medical supplies in the corner. The sudden movement caused his shoulder, where Kaya had attacked him, to throb.
“Wilhelm,” said Dr. Noctua, “you are in no condition to be on your feet.” The owl tried to take another step.
“Get back,” shouted Will, pushing farther into the corner. His brain was humming. “What are you?”
The doctor raised a wiry eyebrow. “What are we? Don’t you mean who are we?”
“I’m calling the nurse.” Will reached for the call button but cat-woman sprung to the end of the bed, claws at the ready.
“Wilhelm, please.” The owl-man held up a wing and waved Kaya back. “Please allow me to explain.”
“Explain what? Why I’m losing it? Why I got attacked by a…a…”
“A what, Wilhelm? What do you see when you look at her?”
Kaya stood frozen, glaring with bared teeth.
Will glanced at the cat-woman’s twitching tail, her slitted irises, and her pointed ears, now folded back aggressively. “No. It’s crazy,” he muttered.
“Crazy is relative, Mr. Tuttle. You might be surprised by my definition of insanity.” The owl cocked his head to one side and pointed his shaking cane in Kaya’s direction. “Now, what do you see when you look at her?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t know? Or don’t want to admit?”
“No, I mean, I can’t.”
“Yes, you can, Wilhelm. You don’t need to keep it inside any longer. Tell me what you see.”
“Cat,” he blurted. “She’s a cat.”
Dr. Noctua hooted but didn’t look surprised, although Kaya still glowered at Will, claws quivering.
The doctor spun his head completely around and spoke to the cat-woman. “What did I tell you, Kaya? He has unobstructed vision. The Cloak has no effect. There can only be one explanation.” His head swiveled back toward Will. “We have found one at last.”
The woman’s anger ebbed away. “How can you be sure? It’s been so long.”
“Sure about what? What are you talking about?” asked Will nervously.
The doctor focused his vast, yellow eyes. “Wilhelm, when you look at me, what do you see?” Dr. Noctua stepped closer. Will instinctively moved back, knocking a tray of instruments to the floor. “Wilhelm, if I were to tell you that most people look at me and see a normal, wrinkled old man, would you believe me?”
Will didn’t answer.
“But that’s not what you see? Is it?”
Will shook his head slightly.
“Tell me. What do you see?”
Will stared at the feathered temples that tufted like sagging horns, and at the doctor’s pointed beak. He fixed his gaze on Dr. Noctua’s intense, yellow eyes. The pupils were so deep it was like peering into a bottomless pit.
“Wilhelm.” Dr. Noctua took a silent step forward into the brighter light of the bedside lamp. “What am I?”
Will whispered, “Owl.”
Dr. Noctua closed his eyes and interlaced his feathered fingers on his cane. Contentment creased his craggy beak.
Behind the doctor, Kaya stared. “That…that’s impossible. No Nep could have guessed that.”
“Precisely. But that is because Mr. Tuttle is no ordinary Nep.”
Kaya fell into her chair. “Could he really be one of them? After all these years?”
“Really one of who? What are you talking about?”
“You, Wilhelm, are something special. Thank you for helping me finalize my diagnosis.” Dr. Noctua began to pace, his feet shuffling across the floor. The tap of the cane and the clicking of his beak punctuated his words.
“I suspect that your view of the world is very different than most. You see things that are not supposed to exist, creatures that have no logical place in reality. True?” Noctua stopped with his back to Will, then turned his head completely around until he faced the boy. Raising an eyebrow, the doctor waited for a response.
Will shook off the shock of seeing the owl-man’s backward head and nodded. How did Dr. Noctua know about his secret?
One crisp click of the beak and the doctor unwound his head and paced again. “I suspect that you have had far more sightings in your midnight forays outside your bubble. Yes?”
Will nodded.
The doctor retrieved a stack of medical files with Will’s name on them and weighed them in his feathery hand. “You are allergic to synthetics made after 1960. You hear things that no one else can. Smells are too strong for your liking. And right now you are speaking to a wrinkled old owl.” Dr. Noctua readjusted his spectacles. “Am I close?”
Will’s mind raced. He grabbed an IV stand to steady himself. “How did you know all that?”
“I promise I’ll explain everything.” Dr. Noctua moved to the foot of the bed. “But first you must allow me to help you, Wilhelm. After all, I am technically your doctor, owl or no. I must ask you to please return to bed, before your parents have cause to sue me for malpractice.” The doctor patted the mattress.
Will felt weak-kneed and cold in his backless robe. Blood dripped from his severed IV tubes. His legs shook. He faced two options—either get in the bed or fall to the floor. Will staggered back to the hospital bed and crawled in.
“Good. Now, let’s fix you up.” Dr. Noctua stepped onto the stool and assessed the damage Will had caused. While the doctor repaired the torn tubes and broken IVs, his aged feathers brushed Will’s arm.
Will waited for an allergic reaction. Nothing. But how? He searched Dr. Noctua’s face. Up close, without the facemask, Will could see humanity in his owlish features. Between the sparse feathers on his creased forehead sprouted bristly eyebrows. Dr. Noctua had the habit of using his tongue to probe the cracks along his beak. Several dark liver spots spread under his feathers. So many wrinkles crisscrossed his face that it looked as though someone had crumpled his skin over and over like a well-worn paper bag. He had the faint scent of peppermint and old books. The doctor seemed frail and old, except for his eyes. They had an intensity of a live wire—seemingly calm, but surging with unseen power. As Dr. Noctua fixed the damage to the heart electrodes, he glanced up and caught Will staring.
“This must be very strange for you. Being examined by an owl, detained by a woman with a tail, robbed by a ram in broad daylight, hospitalized by unexplained allergies—it’s rather a poor way to be introduced to enchants. Isn’t it?” The owl-man placed a shaky stethoscope on Will’s bac
k. “Deep breath, please.”
Will drew a breath, then asked, “Enchants?”
Dr. Noctua repositioned the stethoscope. “Another breath.”
Will breathed.
The owl-man used a penlight to examine Will’s eyes. “We’ve been called many things over the centuries. Monsters, legends, myths, fables, beasts. ‘Enchant’ is what we prefer to call ourselves. It has a more positive ring than ‘monsters,’ don’t you agree?”
“Doctor, I’m not convinced it’s right to share this information with him,” Kaya said. “This boy could still be dangerous. A spy, or worse.”
“Agent Das, Wilhelm has spent his life in a bubble. His only nanny was just dispatched and his parents are ten thousand miles away on a boat. Who could he be spying for? I’m going to ease his mind because he needs to know the truth. If that makes you uncomfortable, you are free to wait outside,” the little doctor stated bluntly.
Kaya eyed Dr. Noctua, then retreated to her seat in a huff.
“Now Wilhelm, let me explain,” Dr. Noctua started.
“Wait,” the cat-woman grumbled from her chair. “If you’re going to do this, let’s at least take precautions.”
Kaya proceeded to check the door to the airlock, opening it, looking around, and then locking it with a loud click. She produced a tube of lipstick and swung it around the room in all directions. It emitted a series of clicks, then glowed green. She placed a pack of breath mints on a tray near the bed and tapped it twice. It beeped and whirred.
Will watched her, perplexed.
“I know it seems a bit excessive,” Dr. Noctua leaned close and whispered, “but what I’m about to tell you is not for all ears. It wouldn’t be good to have unwelcomed eavesdroppers, now would it?” Dr. Noctua cocked is head to the side and pressed his beak in front of Will’s face.
Will had no idea who or what would be eavesdropping, or why the doctor had no sense of personal space, but he wanted answers, so he held his tongue.
When Kaya finished checking the curtains again, she settled into a chair next to the door and nodded to Dr. Noctua.