"Deg?"
Even as she said it, she came more fully awake, and shook her head at her own silliness. Nothing. Of course. How stupid am I, letting another nightmare freak me out?
Nerves still jittery, she threw back the blankets and padded to the kitchen, hoping to break the knot of tension inside her. Thirst drove her to the kitchen specifically, and not a desire to check for anyone or anything. Not at all.
Yeah right, Fred.
An animal snuffled around outside the kitchen door, scratching at the wood. She refused to let the noises send a chill up her spine. Humming under her breath to block the sounds out, she filled a cup with water from the tap.
The quiet scratching continued, growing more persistent. Freddy hurried toward the living room, anxious to be out of the kitchen, even as she told herself she was just being jumpy. It's raccoons or--
Then the creature outside moaned her name.
She dropped her cup and, bare feet slapping hard against the tile, she bolted across the kitchen to fling the back door open.
Two impossibly ugly dogs dragged Deg into the forest. Both beasts looked up at her with white, nacreous eyes before they returned to their catch. One dog had Deg's ankle in a crushing bite, the other mauled his shoulder. Deg was either unconscious or too hurt to fight them.
Freddy trembled, her limbs quivering uncontrollably, her nerves thrashing inside her with terrified adrenaline. The dogs seemed so wrong to her senses. The creatures looked half-dead--but still dangerous, flexible and whip strong.
Hugging the doorframe to hold herself up, her gut churned, empty and ringing with fear. She wanted to do the brave heroine thing and run to the rescue, sword glinting in the moonlight. Guilt kicked in her belly, hard and heavy as she continued to stand there, not moving, not helping.
I've never had to fight anyone for real before, let alone a pack of rabid, zombie dogs. I'm not Buffy the freaking vampire slayer.
Rasping in several breaths, shallow and fast, her fingers clutched hard on the doorframe, her panic holding her body hostage. Deg slid farther away every second she hesitated. "Go, Freddy. Move. Deg needs help. Go."
She didn't go. Her heart beat violently in her chest, trying to drill its way out of her body. Her hand quivered against the wood, aching to close the kitchen door and shut out the nightmares.
Deg moaned in the distance.
"Go." She ordered herself.
His sword had fallen on the doorstep. She bottled her terror and seized his weapon. Swallowing back bile at the blood-slicked hilt, she lifted the weapon high and, barefoot in her pajamas, chased after the dogs.
Freddy came on the animals quickly. Her hands unsteady, she slashed the air with Deg's sword. Her stomach twisted into knots, but the dogs fell back and didn't move to attack her. Okaaay…but--not one to look a gift zombie-dog in the mouth--she charged on.
"Get back." She stabbed at the nearest one. Both dogs' ears flattened to their skulls, and their tails sank to quiver between withered legs.
Freddy frowned over the dogs' behavior, bewildered. Why am I scaring them so much more than Deg did? Why aren't they attacking me?
"Go away. Go on." She punctuated her screams with stabs of the sword, simply because it seemed to be working. "Go."
The dogs bleated and backed away. Freddy reached Deg. She hesitated to disarm herself, but she couldn't juggle the sword and lift Deg. Slowly, her neck prickling with fear, she put the sword down.
One of the dogs exploited the opening and lunged.
"No."
The dog stopped at the word and backed away.
Unsure why they obeyed her, but fluttering with a half-queasy gratitude for it, she cried out, "Shoo. Go away."
The dogs' egg white eyes stared at her with eerie understanding. They turned as one and disappeared.
As the dogs' disappeared into the night, she tried a few times to swallow the sour taste burning in her throat--without success. Scared, frantic, she staggered a few feet away and puked in the bushes at the back of her house. Chest tight, throat on fire, mind numb, her arms wobbled as she crawled on all fours back to Deg.
His eyes opened. He pinned a ragged mockery of his usual smile to his face. "My hero."
Not dead. She let out the breath she'd been holding, but the sight of his wounded leg made bile rise again in her throat. She gulped the remnants of her dinner back down. "What were those things?"
"Hellhounds." His voice sounded faint, groggy. "Damned, filthy beasts." A light sheen coated his skin, and his face was pale.
How much blood has he lost? She rocked back on her heels, a knot of fear clotting under her sternum. Do people get delirious from that? She decided to humor him, though. "Right, hellhounds. I should have realized." Maybe he has head injuries?
He eased up on an elbow, his eyes surprisingly clear. "You are mocking me."
Happy that he was lucid enough to argue, a smile trembled onto her lips. "Okay, so why with the hellhounds then? Are you with PETA? Were those some lab animals gone wrong that you liberated?" She stared in the direction the dogs had gone, and shivered. "Never mind. I don't want to know."
"You mortals nowadays, such skeptics. I will have you know," his voice, thick with pain and light-headedness, still carried a besotted dignity, "a time existed where you couldn't throw a stone without hitting ten mortals who would fall all over themselves to wipe the sweat from my brow--let alone tend to my wounds."
"That right?" She touched his leg, and her hand came away sticky with his blood. "Shit. No wonder your head's gone wonky."
He squeezed his eyes shut with pain. "You are insolent."
"And you are scaring me."
"Beg pardon. But you are very insolent."
"So they say." She tore off a piece of her old T-shirt and looked around her. Twenty-five, maybe thirty feet to the kitchen door. No place to hide, no other weapons to grab, and she'd be dragging Deg the whole way. Oh, yeah. Piece of cake. She sucked in a deep breath to nerve herself up.
He winced as she pressed her bundled T-shirt against his leg to help the bleeding. "You are brave. My very own Amazon. You faced the hellhounds for me."
"Brave. Stupid. Tomato. Tomahto." She held his hand over the haphazard leg-dressing to keep it in place then put her hands under his armpits. "Okay. Up, Simba." As soon as she got him upright, he swayed, touched his head, and tumbled forward in a faint. She caught him okay, but half-dropped him from fear as a screeching howl echoed through the forest.
The dogs were coming back, and they'd brought friends.
How nice. Choking on fear and shock, she half-carried, half-dragged him over her house's threshold and slammed her kitchen door behind his sandaled feet.
Deg was dressed in a strange two-tailed coat of many odd bits of fur, leather, and leaves, with bottle caps for buttons, a vine of leaves artfully tangled in his hair. Bruises shadowed his face and under his eyes, making him look younger, fragile.
Something fierce and strong settled into her heart. She tightened her hands on his shoulders. Let a dozen more hellhounds come for Deg. Let 'em try and take him again.
Eyes still closed, he lay immobile. Blood stained the better part of his lower half; his leafy tights clung to him with it. She pillowed his head in her lap and slapped his cheeks. "Deg? Polydegmon."
"Estne confectum?" He opened his eyes and frowned. His gaze was bleary, distracted, his voice thick and unfocused. "I did not want to involve you--no…I should…go. This will bring more trouble." He tried to get up, but his hand slid out from under him in a puddle of blood. He crashed back into her arms.
She bit her lip, holding hard on her worry, her horror. Keeping her voice firm to hide her quivering fear, she snapped, "Idiot." She made him recline on the floor and snatched one of the pillows off the kitchen chairs to tuck under his head. Bending close to his face, she smelled dirt, sweat, and the earthy tang of blood. Lots of blood. She reeled back and fought her returning nausea. "Don't move. I'm gonna call 911--"
"No." He grabbed her arm. "No hospita
ls. No doctors. No phones." His eyes fluttered.
"Deg--" She reached for him, to keep him still, panic flapping like an angry bird in her ribcage.
"No." His face drained of color as he tried to evade her restraining hands.
"Fine." She raised her hands in surrender. "Okay. But stay here and let me get my dad. He's an EMT."
"Yes," Deg slurred, "Bring your watchdog. What a cozy party we shall be then."
Unable to see what else she could do, she launched to her feet and ran, only to collide with her dad in the doorway. He caught her arms as she stumbled back, and helped her keep her balance as she went light-headed from fear. "Fred, what's--" His eyes darted over to fasten on Deg, and her dad froze, the muscles in his arms tensing, his shoulders stiffening beneath his T-shirt as he glared at Deg.
Mom trailed after him a moment later. "What's all the noise?" She covered a yawn with one hand, and blinked, then stopped short to find Freddy and Dad still poised in the kitchen doorway.
Freddy swallowed and dropped her eyes away in shame when her dad looked at her. "Dad, he's hurt. Please. He's my friend…"
Her dad roused at once, putting her firmly to one side as he crossed toward Deg. He easily hoisted Deg's body up, almost throwing him into one of the kitchen chairs. As Freddy started forward, her dad held one hand back. "Abby, help Freddy get back to bed, eh?"
"Colin--"
"No way." Freddy squirmed out of reach as her mom's cool hands brushed her shoulder.
Her dad's eyes widened and his nostrils flared in anger. "Bed. Now." Her dad did not yell, had never yelled at her, in fact, but somehow this abrupt, tense tone compelled her to get out more than all the throat-tearing bellows in the world ever could.
She cast a glance at Deg, who waved her away with his good hand. "Do as your guardian says. You have endangered yourself too much tonight on my account." He tried to rise, but his eyes rolled back and he sunk into his chair again with resignation, his face pale, his lips pressed tight.
Casting a defiant look at her parents, Freddy crossed the room to kneel at Deg's side and reached up to gently touch his cheek. All the physical comfort she could offer with the audience at hand.
He cradled her fingers in one hand, eyes narrowed to delighted slits like a purring housecat. "I did mean to stay away from you, Frederica, but circumstances intervened, did they not?" Deg smiled into her eyes. "Good night."
"G'night," she murmured back. "My dad will fix you up." She stood and tore her eyes away from his poor mauled body. Don't think about it. Dad will fix him up.
Her mom banded her arm around Freddy's waist, tucking her compact body tight to Freddy's oversized frame, feet falling in step as she guided Freddy out of the kitchen.
Freddy plodded down the hallway to her room, casting looks back at the kitchen. When she reached her bedroom, she stood for a long time with her hand on the knob not moving, her gut swirling with uneasiness, freezing her in place. Leaning her forehead against her bedroom door, she waited for the waves of panic to subside and was vaguely aware of her mom's hand making warm, soothing circles in the small of her back.
"Baby…"
Her heart beat so hard it hurt, thundering through her body, leaving her trembling and sick. Trying to calm herself, she hissed in a deep breath. In. Out.
"Babydoll?"
In. Out. In…
"Freddy."
Freddy looked sideways at her mom, her head still pressed to the coarse wood grain.
"We should clean you up." Her mom glanced down then swallowed, hurriedly looking away.
Freddy let her eyes focus on her body and grimaced at her ruined PJs, stained all over with blood. Deg's blood.
She rushed to the bathroom, and when her mom started to follow, she stood in the doorway to block her. "I'll be okay, Mom."
Her mom sighed but nodded. "Say goodnight before you go to bed."
Freddy nodded and pushed the door closed. Shaking in revulsion, she stripped the PJs off and threw them away. As she lathered and rinsed in a long, hot shower, it took three repetitions to get all Deg's gritty, half-dry blood scoured off, and she was vaguely nauseous as she left the bathroom.
Mom trailed Freddy into her bedroom with a glass of water and something cupped in her palm.
Freddy climbed under her covers, and her mom sat next to her, pushing two little pills into Freddy's palm. "Baby, you'll never sleep tonight without these."
Staring down at the minuscule white circles, images flashed through Freddy's brain, hard and searing. The dogs. Deg. Deg's blood…
Oblivion did sound like a welcome experience just now. Or lack thereof.
She fisted her hands around the pills and stared at her mom. "You'll wake me up if…if Deg needs me?"
Her mom, eyes creased with tension, stroked a hand down Freddy's face.
Satisfied, Freddy popped the pills in her mouth both at once, then knocked back the glass of water. Bottoms up.
Her mom sat with her, threading her fingers through Freddy's hair like she was still a small child, but the movement was tender, relaxing and, despite the horrors she'd just seen, despite her worry over Deg, Freddy soon drifted off to sleep, head pillowed on her mother's tiny lap.
~~~
Once his beautiful savior left the kitchen, an eternity of silence stretched between Polydegmon and her guardian. The steady drip of blood onto the tile floor became the only sound in the room.
The guard dog drew himself up. He looked far more formidable than a barefooted man in polka dot boxers and a frayed old T-shirt had any right to be. "I warn you, my lord," the guardian's voice pulsed with fury, "god though you are, I will break you with my bare hands if you harm that child."
Polydegmon grinned, still entertained despite the blood that pooled at his feet, despite the terrible pain that coursed through his body. "I meant no harm. I happened upon her by chance before. Tonight is regrettable. My mind was half-gone with pain, else I would not have called her to my aid." He cocked a questioning eyebrow. "And who are you, fierce father who claims a title he has no right to?"
The man tilted his head, confusion writ large on his face at these taunting words.
"'Dad,'" Polydegmon sneered the word, disgusted at the cruel charade, but he spoke the next words in Latin so that any potential redheaded eavesdroppers might not understand him. "I have reason to recognize one of the Horned One's get, even if the girl does not know it herself. Yet." Polydegmon snorted in contempt. Freddy's ignorance of her own origins had shocked him, and he discovered little kindness within himself now for the people, like this Colin, who had lied to her all her life.
Colin's eyes narrowed as Polydegmon switched to Latin. The guard dog made his reply in the same ancient tongue of old Rome, "You can spare your threats. I have faced more fearsome wyrms than you in my day. I'll tend your wounds tonight, Death-son, but in exchange for this mercy, you will stay away from her. I love that girl as my own blood, and I'll not allow her to come to harm. She is not for your sport, and it will go ill with you if you should pursue her in that kind." Colin gave a small acknowledging nod. "I think you have some affection for Freddy, but not enough to keep you from trifling with her. That would be too much to expect from an Olympian."
"You know me well." Polydegmon sank back in the wooden kitchen chair and molded his lips into a sardonic curve, hoping to irritate the man Colin. Polydegmon was both amused and annoyed to be so easily recognized even in his borrowed fairy garb.
"The taint of your pantheon is hard to mistake." The man swept him a mocking bow. "Lord Polydegmon."
Polydegmon eyed Freddy's guardian head to foot in an equally mocking survey. "And you are ever the faithful Hound?"
The watchdog grinned in mirthless satisfaction. "It seems we know each other well indeed. But understand it is for Freddy's sake as much as my master's bidding that I stand guard here. I won't let you hurt her."
Polydegmon pursed his lips in annoyance. "And suppose I desire her for more than sport? Is it so impossible I should
have honorable intentions toward Frederica?"
Colin laughed outright, a sharp bark of disgust that set Polydegmon's back up in indignation. "I know the classics as well as most men, and if ever an Olympian did right to an innocent girl, this is the first I've heard of it." He crossed to the table and towered over Polydegmon.
Polydegmon looked at the man, and made himself show no signs of intimidation, even as he remembered with a twinge what Colin was capable of. "Think what you wish. And I, for my part, will do as ever I have done and please myself. I do not answer to you, but, because you love your ward, hear this, and let Earth and the High Heavens bear witness." He put his hands forward, palms up before him as he intoned the most sacred vow of his people in the old language. "I swear by the dark waters of the Styx and on my honor as an Olympian to keep Frederica from harm as best I may, be it physical…or emotional."
The guardian seemed shocked and did a poor job of hiding it as his eyes widened and his mouth gaped open.
Polydegmon let his lips quirk in a grin at sight of the Hound's astonishment. Yet Polydegmon's glee at startling the Hound quickly fizzled as it dawned on him how truly stupid he'd just been. Not lightly did any of the Olympian gods swear by the River Styx's black waters. Any such oath would bind them more surely than worldly shackles ever could. Polydegmon had essentially just created himself as Frederica's champion. What had made him say that stupid vow?
Polydegmon's fondness for the girl ran deep--very deep--but why concern himself? Why worry over reassuring her guardian?
Why should he, Polydegmon, son of Olympians, swear to protect her like this?
Because I do want to protect her.
The thought startled him, and he hid his eyes for a moment with his hand, hoping to elude the quick-eyed Hound's scrutiny.
He searched within and discovered a new warmth had settled into his heart. Gratitude for what she had done tonight lay at its foundation, profound and moving. Deeper levels of newer, raw emotions stirred there, too. Emotions he was ill-prepared to examine.
He did his best, though, to project serene unconcern over his foolish vow to the man Colin. For anyone to guess the depths of Polydegmon's inner troubles would be…undesirable.
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