“He has to stay here, sweetie,” I told her, gently. “He’s the pack leader now and this is where he belongs. You can visit him any time you want.”
“I know you’re right,” she said sadly, getting to her feet, “but it’s so hard to give him up.”
I hugged her consolingly. “All children have to leave the nest one day,” I whispered. “They need to follow their own destiny without interference. That’s what mothers do. They raise their babies as best they can and then let them loose on the world. But mothers are always there in support, just in case.”
Chapter 23
And so, with regret, we left Zenith and his family to their own devices and made our way back to the settlement. Once there, we told our story to the Council Elders and, as we predicted, they received the news of The Vile ancestry with horrified incredulity. I could well imagine their appalled confusion when they discovered that the dreaded Vile were, in fact, Ones. It must have been a staggering shock to their racial pride and I could see that many of them were struggling to accept the consequences of our words.
“This is dreadful!” one of the Elders exclaimed. “Are you absolutely sure about this? Could there possibly be any mistake?”
“None whatsoever,” I bluntly informed him. “I’m sorry, but those are the facts. But, on the bright side, if it can be called such a thing, is that one of you died a hero. Varish overcame his Vile conditioning to become a true One, proving that the bravery and purity of your race will shine through, even in the most desperate of circumstances.”
The Elders had to be content with that, and so, after heaping praise on us for our accomplishments on their behalf, we were allowed to leave. Despite the unwelcome nature of our revelations, I felt that the One needed this wakeup call. I’d always believed they incorporated an unconscious sense of racial superiority over others which I knew to be totally erroneous. No race is superior, and no one society has sole access to the truth of the universe. It was an unfortunately common affliction on the surface world and I didn’t want to see it established here. We were one large mixing bowl of linked beings with common roots, and that was all.
Nix departed for his home, and the rest of our party were reconciled with a fretting Tracey who flung herself into our arms and sobbed with relief when she first saw us.
“Thank heavens you’re all safe,” was her opening remark once we’d untangled ourselves. “My Stephen kept me informed about what was going on but I’m positive he glossed over some of the worst parts to spare my feelings, but I was still hyperventilating even so. Now, I want the whole story. Every single detail. I know you’re safe now, so I won’t be panicking so much.”
We sat down and related everything that had happened. Despite her promise not to panic, and despite the knowledge that we were sitting safe and sound right in front of her, she nearly fainted dead away at some parts of our narrative.
“How could you put yourselves into so much danger?” she stormed at us on various occasions during our tale.
“Hey, it wasn’t our fault!” Thorn protested. “Do you think we wanted to end up cheating death time after time? It just happened.”
“It’s odd how often it seems to just ‘happen’ to you,” Tracey noted, sourly. “It doesn’t seem to ‘happen’ to anyone else around here. You’re ageing me every time you step out of the house. Don’t you have any consideration for me at all?”
“Of course we do,” I assured her. “And anyway, I can see that you’re getting younger, not older. Worry must agree with you.”
Tracey giggled. “You flattering scoundrel,” she simpered, taking hold of my hand – my other hand that is. I mean, the hand belonging to my other clone. Gods, this was still so confusing – “you’re just as bad as my Stephen, here.”
“Funny that,” I smirked. “You’d almost think we’re the same person, or something.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tracey replied. “Everyone knows it’s impossible to have one person in two bodies. Wherever did you get such an odd idea? “
“Beats me,” I shrugged, grinning. “I think I heard Phil talking about it once.”
“You should know better than to listen to him,” Thorn broke in. “I think that fooling around with all his gadgets is turning him a little strange.”
“I’ll be sure to mention that when I next see him,” I threatened.
“Do that,” she said, casually waving a dismissive hand. “I can handle Phil with both hands tied behind my back. And with my legs tied as well,” she added. “And stuffed into a cloth bag on top of that,” she added yet again.
“Oooh, what an interesting image,” I murmured lasciviously.
“Stop that, you depraved wombat!” Thorn laughingly admonished, slapping my arm.
Chapter 24
Things settled down somewhat after that. A month or two went by with no weird happenings, and that in itself was unusual in this underground world. Peace and tranquillity reigned supreme. Trix visited Zenith on a weekly basis but it often ended up as a hit and miss affair. Sometimes the wolves would be in their cave and at other times they wouldn’t, but Zenith and Trix crossed paths enough to keep their close bond alive.
However, the serenity of our routines was soon to be disrupted. One day, as Thorn, Tracey, Trix and the both of me were relaxing after a hard morning of doing absolutely nothing, there came a loud scratching at the front door. Tracey roused herself and walked out of the room to discover what caused the noise. There was a moment of silence and then we suddenly heard her emit a loud squeal of surprise. We rushed out to see what caused her cry and there, on the doorstep, with furiously wagging tails, stood Zenith and his girlfriend. But that wasn’t all. Emerging from behind their parents and sniffing at everything in sight, appeared four small bundles of fluff. Tracey shrieked delightedly and immediately scooped one of the furry, wriggling baby wolves into her arms. It growled at her in a squeaky way and began attacking her fingers with its sharp little teeth.
“Have you ever seen anything so precious?” Tracey gurgled, tickling the baby wolf on its stomach.
“It’s a cutie all right,” I agreed, smiling.
Trix hugged Zenith rapturously and Thorn stared at the puppies in amazement. “Well, as I live and breathe,” she proclaimed, “Zenith is a daddy.”
“He sure is,” Trix exclaimed excitedly, looking up at us, “and they look exactly like him.”
They did, too. Each one appeared as a miniature replica of its father. Without further ado, Zenith marched into the house, his family trailing behind him. The puppies immediately began inquisitively gnawing on everything they could find, including toes. We subjected the parents to a prolonged patting session, broken only by the necessity of detaching their offspring from our persons. The puppies really enjoyed chewing on toes and fingers for some reason. Zenith’s girlfriend initially seemed a little wary of being inside our house, but the pats and food we gave her soon overcame her qualms. We had a marvellous time, cementing relationships with the adult wolves and playing with the puppies but, all too soon, Zenith indicated that he wanted to leave. Trix gave him a farewell hug and lovingly rubbed his ears. And then Zenith did something remarkable. Something so incredible, so amazing and astonishing, that I still can’t credit it. He went over to where Mrs. Zenith was rounding up the children, picked one of them up by the scruff of the neck and carried it back to where Trix sat and deposited the puppy in her lap.
Trix stared down at the squirming youngster in surprise, looked up at Zenith’s grinning face and then back down to the puppy again. Zenith placed a gentle paw on his progeny’s head, gave a soft bark and licked Trix’s hand.
“What’s he doing?” Trix asked us in bewilderment.
“I think he’s giving you this puppy to take his place,” I replied in wonder. “I’ve never heard of such a thing before. This must have been the main reason he came here.”
“Oh,” Tracey whispered emotionally, taking a handkerchief to her eyes, “that’s the most loving act I’ve ever seen.”
Trix stared at Zenith in unspoken communication, put a protective hand on the small, adopted Zenith Version 2, and nodded in agreement and gratitude. Zenith gave her a final woof of approval and trotted out of the room with his diminished family. We went to the door to bid them farewell, with Trix cuddling her newest friend in her arms. Zenith gave us all a last goodbye bark before disappearing around the corner.
None of us spoke for a few moments as we continued to watch where Zenith and his entourage had disappeared. Thorn was the first to break the silence.
“That was the most incredible experience,” she breathed, turning to Trix and waggling her finger at the puppy, which promptly seized on it with a tiny growl and began vigorously chewing.
“Stop that, you little monster!” Thorn laughed as she tried to extract her finger.
“What are you going to name him?” I asked Trix.
“Yes, he has to have a name,” Tracey agreed.
“How about ‘Chewbot’?” I suggested, amusedly watching Thorn’s endeavors to keep her finger intact. “It seems to be his major characteristic, after all.”
“Not a bad idea,” Thorn consented, scratching the puppy under the chin. “He seems to want to bite everything.”
“He’s just testing his environment,” I told her. “All babies do the same thing.”
“I’d sort of like to continue the family name,” Trix announced thoughtfully, stroking the puppy’s soft fur, “so I think I’ll call him ‘Zen’. Is that okay with everyone?”
“You’re his new mother,” I told her, “so you can call him whatever you like. ‘Zen’ it is.”
“Here’s to Zen!” Tracey proclaimed, putting a hand on the newly named, latest member of our family.
“To Zen!” we all cried, putting our hands over hers in solidarity. Zen responded to our fervent declaration by trying to bite all of our fingers at once. I could see that raising this small chewing machine was going to be interesting.
END
Sample Chapters from ‘Revenge (7)’
Chapter 1
Domesticity reigned supreme in our household. Thorn and Tracey, the fairy lovers of my two clones, were in fine health as was Trix, Tracey’s adopted elf daughter. Zen, Trix’s new pet wolf, was growing like a weed and inventing new ways of getting into mischief every day. His latest game consisted of hiding things. The peace of the day was often shattered by someone bellowing, "Where’s my hairbrush/shoes/hat?" There would be a moment of silent epiphany, and then: "Zen, where are you? Where’s my hairbrush/shoes/hat, you naughty little wolf?" would invariably follow. After the alleged culprit had been tracked down, a well practiced routine would commence ……..
When confronted with his misdemeanor, the first expression to appear on Zen’s snout would be a studied look of injured innocence as if to say: ‘What? Me? Madam/Sir, surely you’re mistaken. You can’t possibly be accusing moi! I refute all the charges.’
Then would come the affronted, blustering, ‘denial’ expression: ‘It wasn’t me! You can’t prove anything! I was nowhere near the place!’
This was usually supplemented soon after by an abject look of remorse. ‘Okay, I admit it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. It’s not my fault. It’s a sickness. Anyway, society is to blame.’
By this stage, and under the deliberate influence of his ‘puppy-dog’ soulful eyes, the accuser would be forced to prematurely retire from the interrogation, poisoned by an overdose of terminal cuteness. Pretty pathetic, huh? This meant that Zen could get away with murder. He must have been the most spoiled pet in history but somehow, despite that, he was growing up to be very much like Zenith, his father, who had been the cleverest and most loyal companion in existence. Trix had been inseparable from Zenith when they were together but, now that he was patriarch of the Wolf Clan, he had delegated Zen to act as a substitute in his absence. It seemed almost as if Zenith had never left. Zen mirrored the appearance of his father, albeit a much younger and smaller version and, to find him, all you had to do was to locate Trix. They’d be playing games together or going for walks, or Zen would be sleeping, curled up on the couch, his head resting on Trix’s lap. It was heart warming to see and very reminiscent of the earlier Zenith days.
I was almost exclusively with Thorn and Tracey these days, leaving them only to pop back into my human body for necessary maintenance. I’d awake in my flat, have something to eat and drink, visit the bathroom, have a shower, take some exercise, answer any correspondence, pay the outstanding bills and then hurriedly return to my underground home. I didn’t even have to work anymore as a computer operator because the Council of Elders, in recognition for my services to the community, had awarded me some gold from the local treasury. Back as a human, I had converted my reward into standard money via a gold buyer and used it for necessary expenses. All of this proves that I now regarded my fairy life as a much more satisfying one than my human existence. And it wasn’t even the presence of Thorn and Tracey making me say this either, although they certainly played a major part in it. Life was far more entertaining underground than on the surface. As a pseudo fairy, I found everything new and exciting – and the architecture, art and music were extraordinary. Granted, the scenery became somewhat monotonous, comprising mainly of rock, with very little in the way of vegetation, but the grandeur of the multicoloured stony vistas more than made up for this lack.
Besides, I was surrounded by beautiful people. Not only were Thorn and Tracey the most gorgeous creatures I’d ever seen, but the whole of the fairy race looked exotically handsome. They were slim and toned, with enormous, slightly slanted eyes and cute pointed ears. Their wings were delicate, translucent and shimmering with iridescent colours. Truly, Nature had done Itself proud when designing this species. And it wasn’t simply the externals, moreover. The race as a whole proved to be predominately innocent, unused to the violence and treachery that often characterised the human genus. I found it a pleasant change not to have to guard myself every moment against the malicious intent of others. Not that everyone down here could be called a saint. Far from it. I’d come across a few bad apples in my underground adventures, but they were very much in the minority. On the whole, the One (they called themselves that instead of ‘fairies’) were peaceful, trusting, generous and simplistic. My cynical attitude to life, when I expressed it, was often greeted with puzzled astonishment. The listener usually wouldn’t be able to comprehend my point of view, which goes to show just how uncomplicated the One existence was. I revelled in their ingenuousness and virtue. A crooked card dealer would have had the time of his life in this subterranean world.
Chapter 2
As stated, our household was a happy one indeed. Trix and Zen were merrily bonding as playmates. Thorn, Tracey and the two of me were growing closer by the day. We were held in high esteem by the whole community and had constant contact with our good friend, Nix, the goblin. Of course, and pardon my pessimistic nature here, I felt things couldn’t continue in this blissful way indefinitely. And, unfortunately, my dour forecast proved to be correct. Tracey fell ill from a mysterious ailment that appeared to have no cause.
The first symptom to appear was a distinct lethargy and a reluctance to exert herself. It seemed to be only something mild and we all shrugged it off as a minor inconvenience. But as time went on, she became weaker and weaker, and less alert. By then we’d become alarmed and deposited her in the local hospital to find the cause. Test after test followed with no result, and we began to panic because she her condition steadily deteriorated. We were constantly by her side but could only stand by and watch helplessly as she slowly slipped into a barely conscious state.
I was with her – that is, her clone of me was with her – when she roused herself enough to regain full consciousness.
"Stephen,
" she said weakly, "what’s happening to me?"
"No one seems to know, sweetheart," I reluctantly told her. "I’m afraid that the doctors can’t find anything at this stage."
"I see," she said in a low voice. She fell silent for a few minutes, then feebly grasped my hand. "I’m dying, aren’t I? Tell me the truth."
I looked into her pleading eyes and confessed, "Things aren’t good, dear heart. You’re losing strength every day and we can’t find out what’s causing it so, unless we discover something soon, well ……."
Her hand gave mine a gentle squeeze. "Don’t be sad, beloved," she whispered. "My time with you has been the happiest of my life. I didn’t want it to be so short, but we can’t control our destiny. If this is how it is, then so be it."
"Don’t give up hope, my darling," I urged. "We still have time to fight this. Something may turn up. I’m with Thorn right now, and we’re talking to the doctors to see what can be done. Please don’t leave me. I’ll always want you by my side."
Her beautiful face became regretful. "I’ll try, beloved," she sighed, "for as long as I can, but I’m so tired ……."
After saying that, she slipped back into sleep and I gently replaced her hand back by her side. She was so debilitated that I became terrified of losing her. In the face of this mysterious sickness, I’d never felt so helpless. I sat down on a chair and put my head in my hands in utter misery. She was dying. It was obvious to everyone. What could cause such a transformation? Fairies had rugged constitutions and were very rarely ill, so what the devil had caused this?
Meanwhile, in another part of the hospital, Thorn and I were quizzing a group of doctors, endeavoring to glean some information. We weren’t achieving very much success.
"We can’t find anything," one doctor admitted. "All our tests are coming back negative, so we know it’s not a commonplace illness."
The Vile (6) (The Underground Kingdom) Page 8