Wizard Dawning

by C. M. Lance

  “Just a minute. Dogs don’t need a seatbelt”, Rick said. He bent down out of sight. His clothes flew up onto the packs.

  His wolf form leapt into the Jeep. Mouth open, tongue hanging out, it looked like he was smiling as he turned around three times, pawed at the packs and lay down on top of them.

  Giselle and Sig looked at each other, shrugged and got into the Jeep. She pulled away and then stopped in the parking lot, looked over at Sig and said, “Do you know where we’re going?”

  He shook his head. They both turned to look back at Rick. He held a piece of paper in his mouth. Giselle took it from him and wiped it on her shirt before she opened it. She looked it over for a few moments, and then handed it to Sig. “You’re navigator. Tell me when to turn.”

  The beautiful day demanded traveling with the top down. Rick napped for the hour it took them to clear out of metropolitan Chicago. After the nap, he sat on his rear haunches, head up, catching the blast of wind over the windscreen as they travelled north. He observed the passing scenery with tongue lolling out of his mouth.

  Many people who motored beside them slowed to gawk at Rick. It wasn’t every day that people saw a dog the size of a small pony sitting in the back of a convertible enjoying the view. Children in particular were enthralled with the spectacle, pointing and waving as they travelled alongside, then turning and watching as they passed.

  One little girl in a car seat appeared particularly taken with the view. Face pressed against the window, mouth open, she stared intently at Rick as her parents slowed to keep pace. After a few moments alongside, the car accelerated away from the Jeep. As it pulled away, the little girl winked, held it for a moment, smiled, and pointed at Rick.

  He tilted his head like Nipper in the RCA advertisement and then turned to Sig who watched the interchange. He shrugged. No telling what magical powers the little girl had, but she obviously saw deeper than surface appearances. Acknowledgement of shared magic from one so young was surprising but comforting.

  Giselle pulled into a White Castle at Sig’s urging. When they stopped, Rick jumped out of the Jeep and trotted around to the back of the store. He returned in a few moments in human form. “Excellent choice in greasy cuisine. I think I could manage to slide a dozen down.”

  While they chowed down, Giselle asked Rick, “You stick your head into the wind just like dogs do. Why do you do that?”

  Rick looked at Sig and arched his eyebrows, already having covered this topic with him. He turned back to Giselle. “It’s canine speed reading. Smells come at you fast and furious with lots of information, like ‘Oh there’s Fifi. She’s ready. Fido marked territory, but he doesn’t realize he just marked a spot in Killer’s yard. There’s a female poodle in heat. A boxer is outside her fence.’ I smelled this White Castle before you saw it on the freeway food sign. I also know there’s a pizza shop and an Italian fast food joint nearby.”

  “So you just take in info about food and sex, like dogs.”

  “Puleeze, them are fightin’ words. We Weres are much more discriminating than dogs. However, like any book you randomly pick up, you read what’s written. A baby in a red minivan full of kids that passed had a pant load and will be chapped if they don’t change him soon. I also detected a plastic manufacturing facility back that way.” He waved to the west. “I could tell that gray pickup we followed for a few miles needs new rings or valve seals. It’s burning oil, but not enough to be visible, or detectable by inferior human olfactories.”

  “I’m glad of my human olfactory if it keeps me from smelling a pant load as it drives by.”

  Sig grimaced and nodded. “Amen.”

  Rick grinned. “It’s something you get used to. It comes at you all the time. It doesn’t even bother me when you guys fart.”

  Sig and Giselle looked at each other.

  Rick held up a White Castle slider. “Especially after these babies, it gets ripe.”

  Giselle started laughing and Sig joined in.

  Rick looked back and forth between them. “Should I tell you what you had for breakfast?”

  Laughing, Giselle raised her hands. “TMI, TMI.”

  Rick had a sly look in his eyes. “Anytime you want to remember, just ask me.”

  Sig looked at him and then asked, “What?”

  Rick squinted, considered the question, and then said, “Eggs, bacon and toast. There was a waft of fruit. Perhaps orange marmalade on the toast?”

  Sig shook his head and nodded with a smile. “You nailed it.”

  Still laughing, Giselle threw her head back. “Oh my God.” Excuse me, I’ll be back.” She rose and headed toward the restroom.

  When she was gone, Rick asked, “While she’s unburdening herself, does she know I ate breakfast with you?”

  “No, and let’s not tell her.”

  “Deal.” Rick raised his fist and Sig bumped it.

  Before they sped on their way, Rick changed forms and jumped into the back of the Jeep.

  The highways narrowed, speed limits dropped, and traffic evaporated.

  Rolling down a narrow, rutted, dirt track, Giselle asked, “OK what’s next?”

  Ahead the trail narrowed to a walking path. Sig stared at the directions.

  Giselle stopped the Jeep. “Next?”

  Sig shook his head. He felt a tap on his shoulder and turned. Rick sat on the packs with his hand out.

  “Why do you want the map? We’re looking for your uncle’s place. You’ve been here before. Just tell us where to go.”

  “I only travelled here from the Upper Peninsula, never from Chicago. My uncle gave me these directions over the phone. Finally, we’re not going to my uncle’s place, we’re going to a cabin in the woods. I’ve never been there.” He wriggled his fingers. “Gimme. High school teachers said I should study medicine because of my head start on lousy penmanship. Maybe I can figure it out.”

  He turned it over, then sideways, and squinted, looked back over his shoulder, back at the directions and then over the other shoulder. “Have we passed a giant sycamore?”

  “About a quarter mile back.”

  “The trail begins there. Turn around and go back.”

  “Let me see the directions.” Rick handed them to Sig.

  “Where does it say sycamore?”

  Rick pointed.

  Sig looked at where he pointed. “That’s sycamore? I thought it said ‘sign’. I was looking for a sign.”

  “It’s abbreviated.”

  Sig rolled his eyes.

  Giselle managed to turn the Jeep around in three back and forth maneuvers. She stopped when pointed in the direction they had come. “The only problem with your penmanship is you must have held the pen with your paw.” She pressed the gas.

  At the sycamore, she pulled off the road into the brush. They unloaded the packs and put the top up on the Jeep.

  “Where now?”

  “I’ll find out.” Rick walked to the other side of the Jeep and ducked down. His wolf dashed into the forest.

  Ten minutes later, he trotted out of the forest. He stood up on the other side of the Jeep and said, “Found it. It’ll take about forty minutes to get there.”

  “You found it and got back here in ten minutes. Why will it take us forty?”

  “Well duh. Four legs, by myself, and no packs the first time; this time - packs, two legs and I have to drag two greenhorns along.”

  Sig shouldered his pack, lifted his bow and arrow quiver, and then held Rick’s pack up for him. “Lead the way Chingachgook.”

  Giselle leaned against the Jeep patiently, pack on her shoulders, bow and arrow quiver at the ready. “When you two finish with your comedy routine, I’m ready.”

  Rick set a fast pace, but Giselle and Sig kept up easily. They arrived at the cabin in less than thirty minutes.

  Emerging from the forest, they saw a log and stone cabin in a clearing on the other side of a creek flowing into a large pond. The creek burbled between large boulders before falling into the pond. Ric
k skipped and hopped across the boulders to the other side. Sig and Giselle followed.

  Giselle entered the unlocked cabin. Sig said to Rick, “That only took a half-hour.”

  “How did you time that?”

  Sig picked up a stick and drove it into the ground. “Look at the shadows. When we left, the shadow was there, now it’s here.”

  “You looked at your cellphone didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Rick kicked the stick. “Shadows.”

  Giselle walked out of the cabin onto the porch. “What a lovely cabin. It has three bedrooms. I’ve picked mine.”

  “My uncle built it himself. Felled the trees, hauled the stones, and built the furniture.”

  “Lovely job. Did either of you bring food?”

  “I’ve got trail mix, dried apricots, and figs.”

  Giselle and Rick looked at him and shook their heads.

  Giselle pointed at the fire pit. “Start a fire. I’ve got brats, sauerkraut, buns and fixin’s”

  Sig and Rick had the fire blazing as dark settled. Sig sharpened sticks for the brats. Giselle had two packages. They finished both packages of brats and the extra buns. Sig raised the age-old question, “Why do brats come in packages of eight and buns in ten packs?” The mystery remained unsolved.

  Sig leaned back on the porch and patted his stomach. “When will your uncle be here?”

  “I expect him sometime tonight or early in the morning, before sunrise.”

  “Let’s get to bed and be ready.”

  Rick nodded. “We should leave a bedroom free for my uncle. Two of us need to double up. Giselle, do you want to room with me or Sig?”

  She smiled as she shut the door to her bedroom.

  Rick shrugged at Sig. “I tried.”

  “One can only hope.”

  Chapter 49

  It was still dark when someone shook Sig awake. It wasn’t Rick. He sat up and swung his feet down. Sig pulled on his shirt and boots and followed them outside.

  The newcomer turned to Rick and said, “There’s a girl in one of the rooms.”

  Rick looked quizzically at him. “Yes, there is.”

  “You said you were bringing two friends.”

  “That’s right and I said one’s an Amazon. Did you think I would bring the river?”

  That got Rick a level stare.

  “Now don’t pull that Alpha shit with me. I could have gone home to get that.” He gestured. “My friend Sig. Sig my uncle Jacob.”

  They shook hands. Sig felt bone breaking potential in Jacob’s grip. He wore tear-away athletic sweats like Rick always did.

  “The woman inside is Giselle, our friend the Amazon. She’s deadly with the bow and a good hunter.”

  Jacob said sternly, “I don’t want to be accused of encouraging same behavior with you that has me caused so much pack trouble.”

  Rick looked taken aback. “You think Giselle and me? No… if anyone.” Sig saw Rick semi-surreptitiously use one hand as if to conceal that he pointed at him.

  Sig started to make a comment but stopped when two wolves silently padded out of the woods.

  Rick turned to them and beamed. “Lenny, Tommy I hoped you could come. Now the gang’s all here. Sig these are my cousins Lenny”, He pointed at a medium gray wolf, “and Tommy.” Tommy was black shading to gray on legs and belly. Both were considerably smaller than Rick’s wolf form.

  Introductions were repeated when Giselle joined them. “My, aren’t you two beautiful.” She said to Tommy and Lenny,

  Sitting on their haunches, they looked at each other, ducked their heads, and wagged their tails.

  She held up a small espresso maker. “Do we have time for coffee before we start?”

  Jacob smiled at her. “If you’re talking about espresso, there’s always time.” He turned to the wolves. “Go rustle up some fire makings.”

  They blended into the forest, while Sig gathered tinder and built a starter pile.

  Soon, two teenaged boys strode out of the woods bearing armfuls of branches. Giselle carried a bucket of water up from the pond.

  She poured the first pot of espresso into three cups the boys brought from the cabin and spooned up grounds for a second pot. “Sorry, this isn’t fresh. I ground it yesterday. I don’t have a field grinder.”

  Jacob sipped from his cup. “Ahhh, the perfect start to a hunt.”

  Giselle nodded. “I’ve always thought so. Of course I don’t need to smell to hunt.”

  “Not a problem after we change.”

  Jacob related that he and the boys spent a few days scouting the area. He pointed at Sig and Giselle. “We’ll put you at the confluence of five game trails. When we get the deer moving, there’ll be a lot of targets for your bows.”

  Rick and the boys left to roam widely, flush deer, and chase them toward the trail junction.

  Jacob remained with the bow hunters in case deer got past them. He would take the deer down if their arrows missed.

  Sig and Giselle compared bows on the walk to their stations. Sig had a fiberglass compound bow with pulleys, cams, and crisscrossing strings. Giselle carried a recurved bow, a composite construct of wood, bone, and other natural materials. There were no pulleys or cams and a single string ran from tip to tip. Hers looked like a work of art compared to Sig’s engine of destruction.

  They exchanged bows. Giselle looked over Sig’s intently and drew it several times. Sig walked alongside, holding her bow balanced in both hands.

  “Aren’t you going to try drawing mine?”

  He looked up from the bow in his hands. “It feels like magic.”

  “How do you know until you draw it?”

  “I mean I can feel magic in it. It’s warm, and gently pulsing with energy.”

  She looked at him speculatively, handed his back, and took hers. She stood holding it as he had. She shook her head. “It feels like it always does.”

  He reached out and grasped it, then released it. “It has magic. Where did you get it?”

  “The Weapons Master makes our bows. She custom made this one for me. It takes many years of apprenticeship before someone attains the title of Master.”

  “How did they select her to be an apprentice?” Sig asked.

  “I don’t know. It happened long before I was born.”

  “Does she have any apprentices?”

  “Many assist her and endure the exercises, but she hasn’t accepted anyone as apprentice.”

  “You said that Amazon magic is group magic. I wonder if there isn’t also individual magic.”

  Giselle missed a step and slowed. She looked at Sig’s back contemplatively as she strode to catch up.

  In the lead, Jacob stopped and waited for them in a small clearing. He gestured toward several pathways. “The game trails come together here. You’ll have a good field of fire.”

  Sig walked around the clearing and dropped to one knee at the side of a trail. “Deer have used this one most recently; probably last night. They headed that way.” He nodded.

  Jacob knelt, looked at trail, and nodded. “Very good. Yes, they should be returning this way today. The boys will urge them along.” He looked up at them. “Find yourselves a spot while I look around.” He rose and vanished into the dense undergrowth.

  They sampled the wind direction in relation to the trails before selecting spots of concealment. Sig stood several arrows, points stuck in the ground, within easy reach. Now, the wait.

  Wolf howls sounded in the distance. A reddish brown wolf, at least as big as Rick, loped into the clearing. He stopped, looked at the tree Sig hid behind, and then where Giselle sheltered. He nodded, and trotted back into the forest. The howling continued and drew nearer.

  Sig heard the crackle of underbrush. A deer bounded into the clearing near him and stopped. Sig dropped his aim. It was a buck. It didn’t have antlers, but he could tell by the shape of the head. It had a flat ledge for antlers. They agreed to only kill does. Does have rounder foreheads

&nb
sp; The rustle of underbrush shoved aside heralded another arrival. A doe plunged into the clearing, hesitated, and dashed in front of him. He shot and missed. As she passed in front of Giselle’s position, an arrow appeared in the doe’s side, just behind the leg, buried almost to the fletching. She took another bound, her front legs buckled, and she slid across the ground.

  Another deer, a buck, passed through. A doe followed it. Sig released his arrow. It struck the deer high in shoulder, causing it to stagger before it continued following the buck. He couldn’t leave a fatally injured deer to die painfully in the forest. He would track and finish it later.

  Except for the decreasing sound of deer running away from the clearing, he didn’t hear anything.

  Without preamble, a large deer bounded into the clearing. Sig dropped his aim, expecting a buck. When he realized it was a doe, running directly at him, he aimed for the chest and released, just as she dodged to the left, towards Giselle. Sig’s arrow hit her in the haunch. She leapt and when she landed, an arrow appeared in her side behind the foreleg. She collapsed. Giselle to the rescue again.

  Three wolves entered the clearing. The dark brown one was almost twice the size of the other two. All three glided over to sniff at the does lying in the clearing.

  Jacob entered the clearing. “I got the deer you hit high in the shoulder.” He walked over to the two does and turned to Giselle. “Nice shooting. Both of you, nice shooting. Running deer make for a difficult shot.”

  He looked at the wolves patiently lying next to the deer and said to Sig and Giselle, “Would you clean these two? I promised the boys the heart and liver. Rick, come with me. I’ll clean the other.”

  Rick jumped up and loped after him into the woods.

  Sig and Giselle watched with amusement while the wolves devoured the choice parts set aside for them. Sig said, “Great shooting. I’ll sign up for lessons.”

  “Lessons are good, but practice makes perfect.”

  “Did you make that up?”

  “Wise ass.”

  Jacob brought two bundles of canvas wrapped, metal poles into the clearing. They unfolded into travois. He and Sig loaded the deer on the travois. Jacob strapped the contraptions to the two young wolves to drag to the cabin. Sig and Giselle went along to help. Jacob arrived a while later with Rick dragging the travois with the third deer.