Tiny Dragons 2: The Bear and Scepter

by Bernard Schaffer

  Something had gone wrong with them. Horribly wrong. In the newspaper photo the bear's eyes were filled with curiosity and warmth. It was looking for a new place to live and trying to make sense of all the strange things it was seeing for the first time, like backyard play sets and cars and large barrels of perfectly good food just waiting to be eaten. The humans considered their trash nothing more than waste, but for an animal like a bear, it was a feast fit for a king.

  But what Mister Six had seen in the woods that day chilled him to the bone. The bear staring at him that day had changed. Its eyes were now black as obsidian all the way through, black swallowing up all the other colors, black and hard and stinking of magic.

  Someone, or something, had done that to the bear, and Mister Six would do whatever it took to keep it away from the O'Neil family.

  By the time he reached the back of the shed, the bear was gone. Another group of humans came barging through the woods, searching haplessly for the bear, and succeeded in doing nothing but alerting the entire animal kingdom to their presence.

  Mister Six bent down and sniffed the ground where he'd last seen the bear standing, trying to pick up the scent. He found it, and flinched backwards, stunned by the foul odor lingering in the air. He sniffed the air, searching for its trail.

  He smelled something else.

  Another animal, he realized. It was watching him, too. He could not tell if it was the bear or just another animal, but whatever it was, it was close.

  Mister Six growled softly as he looked for the creature, but instead, it took off running. Mister Six shot after it, darting up the grassy hill into the leaf-strewn darkness of the woods beyond. He leapt over fallen branches and burst through thick tangles of thorny brush like a gray cannonball, twisting gymnastically in the air to change direction and keep up with the creature. Branches slapped his face and leaves stung him in the eyes every time he tried to get a better look at what he was chasing, but all he could see was a streak of soft brown fur.

  It was like trying to catch an express train going downhill around the broadside of a narrow mountain. It had to end. Mister Six could not keep running like that. They neared a cluster of tall, thin trees that were stacked beside one another so tightly he could no longer see daylight, and Mister Six drew his breath into his tight chest as much as he could and leapt.

  He sailed between two trees, unsure of what he was about to land on, jumping as far ahead of his quarry as he could, using his best guess to head it off as it ran. He flicked out his claws and stuck both of his front paws in front of himself as far as possible, grasping blindly for whatever he could grab.

  Something yowled, high-pitched and angry, as his claws found the center of its back, digging into that soft brown fur and clutching it with all his might. He landed hard on top of the creature, thrown sideways with it still in his grip, and the two of them tumbled, rolling over and over until they struck the center of a tree trunk.

  Mister Six staggered to his feet and shook his head, eager to see his quarry. What he saw made his eyes widen.

  She was a Siamese cat, long and sleek, and her eyes were bright blue. Her fur was a blended, rich, cinnamon color, and as she looked at him, her tail curled high up into the air. "You run well, He-Who-Walks-In-Shadows," she said.

  His claws were still out, and he said, "Why were you spying on me?"

  "I was sent to bring you in," she purred.

  He tilted his head at her slightly, surprised by her response. "By whom?"

  The female cat smiled slightly and said, "By She-Prowls-At-Nightfall, of course."

  Mister Six snarled and advanced on the cinnamon-colored cat, "The Queen of Cats has not been seen or heard from in five years. Who are you really? Answer me truly…or else."

  The Siamese cat inched backwards slightly and lowered her head, "I beg your pardon, great warrior, but the Queen has come a great distance. What I speak is true."

  Mister Six sniffed the other cat and detected no trace of deceit. "Why has the Queen come out of exile now, of all times?"

  She looked up at him and said, "To find you."

  He circled around her and watched her lumber to her feet, favoring her front paw slightly, and he said, "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine," she sniffed, circling the opposite way from him, keeping her head low and eyes locked on him. "I should have known you'd find a way to take me down. It's my fault for turning into it." She shook her head and whispered, "Stupid, really."

  He quickened his pace and she stumbled a little, trying to keep the same distance between them, but he was able to get a closer look at her leg. It was neither cut nor broken. "Perhaps you'd like to rest."

  "No, but thank you. The Queen was quite clear that she needed you right away."

  Mister Six grunted as he continued to circle, "She can wait."

  The Siamese cat laughed at his boldness and said, "Perhaps you are no longer loyal to the Queen? Have you forgotten your vows, then, He-Who-Walks-In-Shadows?"

  "Never," he snapped. "For these many years I have done what I was sent to do. Even when it meant the loss of everything I knew and loved. No one can ever question my loyalty. Not the Queen, and certainly not you."

  "That is true," she whispered. "So what is it then?"

  "I just," he said, trying to find the right words. "I just fail to see why the Queen would send someone like you to summon me."

  "Someone like me? What's wrong with someone like me?"

  "Nothing," he said quickly.

  "You think because you tackled me that I'm weak?"

  "No, of course not," he said.

  "Is it that I run slowly?"

  "No, you run wonderfully."

  "Well, what is it then? Speak up!"

  "You're a girl," he muttered.

  "A what?" she growled.

  Mister Six stopped moving and swatted the air in front of him angrily, "A girl! You're a girl, and a rather pretty one at that, and you were sent out here into the wilderness all alone. There's a bear in these woods, and I dare say he's been possessed by dark magic, but sure, why not? Send a little girl off to go find Old-What's-His-Name no matter how stupid it is!"

  She looked at him for a moment after he finished ranting, then said, "A pretty one?"

  "Yes, well, it's obvious, isn't it?"

  "I can't believe the legendary He-Who-Walks-In-Shadows is hitting on me," she giggled.

  "I am not!" he said, suddenly feeling very foolish. He looked down at the ground, desperately needing to do something besides sitting there staring into the other cat's bright blue eyes and thinking how, in fact, really pretty they actually were. "I was simply making a point."

  "When is the last time you saw the Queen?" she said.

  "Not since we were both young," Mister Six said. "My father was the King's Champion, and I would see her in the woods on occasion. A timid, little thing, she was back then. I expect that she is quite different now, especially since the…well, you know. Hard times have fallen on us all since the King was killed."

  "Not just the King," the other cat said. "He-Who-Strikes-Unseen was killed battling the Evil One, as well. It is said that your father saved the Queen, you know. That she would have perished or taken as a prisoner and enslaved without his sacrifice."

  Mister Six turned away from the other cat and said, "That was his duty. Nothing more."

  "Life is not all duty, you know," she purred.

  "You are not a knight."

  She rolled her eyes and moved past him, her soft fur sliding against his, her long, arched tail stroking down the length of his, but instead of following her, Mister Six simply sat down on his hind legs and watched her go. "Well?" she said. "Aren't you coming?"

  He turned and looked over his shoulder, searching for a sight of the O'Neil home. He had pursued this strange female cat deeper into the woods than he intended, but not so far that he could not still smell the lotion Mrs. O'Neil used on her hands, or the powdery deodorant James had recently begun continuously applying under h
is arms in his continuous effort to appear more grown up, or the sweet apple shampoo smell of Alana's long, curly hair. He shook his head and said, "I cannot go with you."

  "I beg your pardon?" the Siamese cat said. "The Queen has summoned you, your Queen, and she's come out of hiding to do so. You would dare refuse her?"

  "Of course not," Mister Six said softly. "But I cannot go, not just now, anyway. The bear I told you about? He is near. I can feel him at his very moment, filled with the darkest and cruelest of magic. It cannot be a coincidence that I have seen him prowling around the Nastikan's family. I fear that he means them harm."

  The Siamese cat raised her eyebrow and said, "This human family is so precious to you?"

  "Not at first," Mister Six said. "When the King first sent me to guard them, I resented him for sending me away from my family. For giving me the unknightly task of pretending to be someone's pet, when I should have been guarding the realm. When the King was killed, and my father was killed, and the realm fell, I carried a guilt that none will ever know."

  She lowered her head and nodded, "I understand. But you were given a task, and you could not have known the Evil One would attack."

  "Perhaps not," Mister Six agreed. "But I do know that the King felt the key to defeating the Evil One lay with the Nastikan, and that he would need our protection. Go, find the Queen and tell her these are the words of He-Who-Walks-In-Shadow, her sworn and faithful knight. Tell her I will come. Just not now, but when I can. I swear it."

  "I'm afraid not," the female cat responded.

  Mister Six looked at her in confusion, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

  "I said that I will not tell her that, because I am not going back."

  He watched her walk back toward him, heading in the opposite direction of the woods and going back the way they'd come. "What do you think you're doing?"

  "I'm going back with you to guard this human family you hold so dear. I'm going to wait to see if this mysterious bear shows up after all."

  He batted her tail with his front paw and said, "No you are not. Turn right around and go back to the others, this instant. Right now, you'll be safe there. Hey!"

  "I don't want to be safe," she said over her shoulder. "I want to see this bear. Never seen a bear. They sound positively dreadful. I'm so excited I can't stand it!"

  Mister Six watched her walk, spending far too long admiring the curve or her hips and the tall way she carried her head. It was almost regal, in a way. "What is your name, anyway?" he called out, hurrying to catch up to her.

  In the distance, just above the tips of the trees, darkness rolled in across the skyline. Great clusters of black clouds formed, turning what had been the bright afternoon sun into sudden night. Mister Six stopped and squinted into the dark woods, searching for signs of danger. He had no fear of the dark, in fact, he preferred it. It was how he'd gotten his name. He looked and he listened and he sniffed the air, searching for danger.

  A cold drop of water plopped down on the center of his nose, and Mister Six scowled. He might have had no fear of darkness, or even large bears possessed by dark magic, but he seriously, seriously hated rain.

  5. The Bear and the Scepter

  The rain had come on strong and heavy, with fierce winds battering the sides of the house. The light slowly drained out of the living room, leaving only the glow of their television and Mrs. O'Neil leaned forward to look out the window and frowned. "James, turn on the light, please," she said.

  As he got up from the sofa, lightning forked through the sky, a jagged streak of electricity that lit up their house for a moment like a signal flare. A resounding thunderclap boomed so loudly that Alana threw her hands over her ears and cried out.

  "It's all right," Mrs. O'Neil said, draping her arm around her daughter. "Nothing to be afraid of."

  Just as James reached to turn on the light switch, the television fizzled and the bright images withdrew into a small dot and went black. "Power's out," James said. "I'll grab the glow sticks."

  Alana shivered slightly, and pulled her legs up on the couch and tucked them in between the cushions. James came back from the kitchen with a handful of glow sticks and started handing them out. Alana pulled one out of the packaging and snapped it, making it burst into green fluorescent light. Thunder crackled over the roof once more, this time long and drawn out with almost musical highs and lows. "Another strike," Mrs. O'Neil whispered, laughing slightly.

  "What's that, mama?" Alana said.

  "Oh, just something my father used to tell me when I was a little girl. He said that when you hear thunder, it's just the angels bowling and one of them rolled a strike."

  Alana nodded, trying to picture it in her mind. She'd seen what angels looked like in books and some of the kids at school would draw them on occasion, but it seemed strange to her that they'd ever go bowling. What, she wondered, were they bowling on, exactly?

  James snapped his own glow stick and waved it around in the dark, leaving circles of light trails. "That's dumb," he sniffed. "Angels."

  "You don't believe in angels?" Mrs. O'Neil asked.

  "Nope."

  "Why?"

  He smirked at her and said, "Duh, because they're not real."

  "How do you know?" Alana snapped. She was tired of him always acting so sure of everything he said.

  Mrs. O'Neil stroked Alana's hair and drew her back to her side. She looked at James thoughtfully for a moment and said, "Is that because of what your father taught you?"

  "I guess," James said. "He always said to only believe in what you can see. That the world is full of charlatans who−"

  "What's a charlatan?" Alana said.

  "A faker. Like, a schemer," James said. He looked back at his mother, "He said the world is full of people who use superstition and fear to get over on other people."

  "That's true," Mrs. O'Neil said, nodding. "But he never said to only believe in what you can see."

  "Yes he did," James shot back.

  "No, he did not," Mrs. O'Neil corrected him. "He said to only believe in what you can prove."

  "Oh," James whispered, nodding slowly. "I guess you're right."

  Mrs. O'Neil rubbed her forehead with her hands and said, "If you only knew how strange the world really is, you'd know that angels bowling are the least of our worries."

  Alana and James looked at one another, neither of them speaking, but both of them thinking that if their mother knew some of the things they'd seen, she would think they were crazy. Alana tugged on her mother's arm and said, "Do you believe in angels?"

  Mrs. O'Neil put her hand inside Alana's and said, "Well, I've never met any, but I'm keeping an open mind about the subject until it's proven either way."

  There came a soft scratching at the patio door.

  Alana squeaked in fear, but was immediately reprimanded by her older brother. "It's just Mister Six, you big baby," James said, rolling his eyes. "He hates the rain."

  "Stop calling your sister names," Mrs. O'Neil said. "What is wrong with you, young man?"

  "Sorry," he said, sounding like he didn't really mean it, as he got up and crossed the room, slashing through the darkness with his glow stick.

  "Has he been mean lately, or is it just me?" Mrs. O'Neil said.

  "He's not mean," Alana said, feeling protective of her older brother, despite his bull-headed attitude. "He just gets upset when people talk about Dad."

  "You think so?" Mrs. O'Neil said, turning her head to look at James as he navigated his way toward the large glass patio doors, more focused on his imaginary sword fight with the glow stick than on rescuing the cat.

  She heard the scratching sound again, thinking that it sounded different, somehow. It wasn't a scratch of a cat's paw on the glass. It sounded more like a scrape.

  She glanced over to the living room window next to the patio doors and saw nothing but darkness, as if the entire sky were blotted out, or the window had been covered over.

  Lighting flashed outside their house, so clo
se to them that it lit up the living room as bright as the daytime, showing the trees and backyard through the patio doors, but not through the window beside it. It was completely dark. In that instantaneous flash she caught a glimpse of why.

  There was harsh, bristled fur pressed up against the glass, blocking her view. The fur of something so large it covered the window with its rounded back as it bent over, scratching at their glass door with one of its long, curved claws.

  Mrs. O'Neil's mouth fell open in mute horror, broken only by the sound of James turning the patio door handle to slide it open. "James, no!" she cried out, but it was too late.

  The bear was enormous.

  Its massive paw swung through the door, the padding gray and thick like leather on a catcher's mitt. In that brief second, Alana saw the bear's claws. They were long and curved like eagle talons, heading straight for her brother. She saw James fold at the midsection, struck by the bear's sweeping arm, and his glow stick went flying. It spun through the air, going around and around, and as it passed the glass door, Alana caught sight of the bear looking in at them. In glared with icy black hatred and grunted angrily, fogging the door and covering it in slobber.

  James was sprawled on the kitchen floor, face down and not moving. Alana screamed for her brother, but Mrs. O'Neil shot to her feet and shouted, "Alana, run upstairs to your bedroom and find something heavy to block your door!"

  "James!" Alana cried out.

  "Alana!" Mrs. O'Neil shouted again, her voice deeper and more powerful than Alana had ever heard before, "Do as I say!"

  The bear's arm curved back toward the sliding patio door and gripped it by the edge, pushing it the rest of the way open. The bear lowered its shaggy head and poked it inside the house, sniffing the air once before opening its huge jaws and unleashing a deafening roar. Alana pressed her hands to her ears, feeling the force of the bear's roar against her face like wind, so loud it rattled the windows in their frames.

  Mrs. O'Neil thrust out her arms to block the bear's path and said, "You may not enter this house, servant of darkness. The place is protected by the First Circle and True Light!"