When the echo of his words faded away into nothing, his composure seemingly regained, if only for the moment, the sorcerer turned his eyes on the still figure standing cloaked in the shadowy corner of the dim chamber.
“For seven years I remained in that creature’s lair, the ruined temple of a pagan god long since abandoned by its acolytes. For seven years he instructed me of the world that would soon be mine to rule and of the creatures that inhabited it.” His eyes narrowed maliciously. “The creatures I would enslave.”
The solitary figure across the room did not move, did not give the slightest hint the sorcerer’s words did not fall upon deaf ears, yet Azinon continued.
“For seven years my master taught me of the languages, of strategy and history, and the art of war. All those years did pass without my once ever seeing another of my kind. So on the eve of my eighth year I crept out of the temple, thinking myself clever for deceiving my master, a devil of the highest primal order, and never did I suspect it was only another lesson. I went to the outskirts of a shire not far away and came upon a group of boys playing in a field. Peasants, I took them, by their garb. Children of farmers who would more than likely have spent the remainder of their lives toiling in the dirt. It was then, as I approached them, I came to realize these were not of my kind. There were none truly of my kind; and these filthy beings, these wretches of the earth, were below me.”
“Seeing my approach, they did likewise, asking my name when they drew near enough. Without a word I took out my knife, one which I had often used to gut animals in my play time, and plunged its blade deep into the tallest boy.”
Azinon rolled his eyes in ecstasy as he savored the memory of his first true kill. And then, slowly, he looked again to the man in the shadows. “I shall always remember that boy’s death as the sweetest.”
“But my master did not let me go that day so that I might learn to kill with my hands. Although, I did not know it at that time, the devil was watching me from afar in the ways of his kind. He caused me to draw upon the power for the first time in my young life, and with it I attacked the other boys, shredding their minds in a tidal wave of my own destructive power. Oh, how I gloried in their agony and pitiful cries for mercy! I sustained their pain for as long as their frail bodies could keep them alive, and I reveled in their twitching shells after their deaths.”
Azinon waited then, as though he expected the still, shadowy figure to make some reply. None was forthcoming, of course, and the sorcerer only nodded.
“So shall it be with you,” he said. Raising his pale hand and pointing a finger, he loosed a blast of energy that struck the figure full in the chest. Chunks of stone exploded in all directions and rained a thousand bits of pebble and debris. The destroying of the statue brought no pleasure to the sorcerer, not so long as the real man still drew breath somewhere in Mithal.
Azinon stood there for long moments after, thinking. He had struck a decisive blow to the Resistance, true. In one fell swoop he had killed the Emperor—eliminating the last of the Imperial line once and for all—and crippled the rebels. But for some reason he could not explain, something seemed amiss. This thwarting of the prophecy had come altogether too easily. There had to be something he had thus far failed to heed.
The sorcerer shrugged, for then again, perhaps it was nothing at all. He glanced briefly at the piece of blasted stone at his feet and scowled. A face looked up at him, the face of Steven Walker, half of it missing and blackened, but smiling back at the sorcerer who had tried to destroy it.
Azinon turned and strode purposefully out of the chamber, to kill the mason who had crafted it.
Sonya raised a shield about their party; it’s beginning only a golden, glowing ring in the ground about them, but swiftly arcing upward to envelope them all in a protective hemisphere. Steve alone remained outside its confines, his leap following his magical attack proving too swift to trap him within.
Scott shrugged off the effects of the near miss with a startled, “Dude, what the hell?!” but even this he could not finish as he friend bore down on him with steel in hand. Responding to his will, the enraged young wizard’s sword ignited with magical power and took on a white-hot glow.
Rising to his feet Scott cried, “What are you doing? It’s me! Scott!” And in answer a slice cut through the air that Scott barely avoided.
“Take him!” Kurella ordered the other wolves. “He attacks your king!”
“No!” Scott countered, raising a hand to stay them but keeping his eyes on his friend. “Leave him!”
Within the dome Kayliss roared to be free but Sonya did not dare let down her shield, if even for an instant.
“Dog!” Steve growled. “I’ll kill you! Did you think you could come here wearing his face?”
Scott dodged behind a sapling but then jumped back as Steve felled the tree with a single slash and then lunged over the bole.
“Steve, what’s the matter with you?” Scott managed as he leaped backwards. “Don’t you believe your own eyes?” All around them, the clearly conflicted werewolves stayed back a safe distance from the two, though ready to pounce on a word from their leader.
Holding out his left hand, Steve invoked his will against the man he faced, and suddenly, terribly, Scott was frozen where he stood.
Realizing her mate’s peril, Kurella was quick to act. “Seize him! Seize him now!”
Kurella was already in motion and several others answered her call, but quicker was Sonya across the way. Before the wolf girl and the others could react a second hemisphere formed around the combatants and Kurella slammed into—and then off of—its glowing surface.
“Where will you go now?” Steve hissed through his anger, raising his sword point to the other’s throat.
Steve’s hold, hastily summoned and far from complex, did not last long and a moment later Scott could move again. This, however, did little for him, as it did nothing to ward against Sonya’s shield or the point of the glowing rapier a millimeter from his Adam’s apple.
Steve’s breathing rasped through clenched teeth and his knuckles showed white against the hilt of his sword. His right arm vibrated with the combination of tension on the weapon and the extreme effort of restraining himself from killing the man before him outright.
“What,” Steve growled as he pressed the point of the blade lightly against the skin of Scott’s throat, the magic burning the flesh at just a touch, “did you possibly hope to gain from this?”
“Steve, I don’t—“ Scott had started to raise his hands, as he often did when he spoke, but stopped short when Steve’s blade pressed closer still in warning. He swallowed, and slowly lowered his arms to his sides. “I don’t know what’s going on but I don’t—”
“Scott died!” Steve bellowed in his face, his sword arm shaking even more. “I saw him go down with my own eyes!”
“You did not see him die,” came another voice, familiar. “You saw his rebirth.”
Steve’s eyes flashed left to the one who spoke, to the naked young woman standing just outside the shield, but then did a double-take. Kurella stood unwavering in her human form, her fear and concern for Scott clearly visible upon her face.
To Scott she said, almost apologetic, “He saw the ritual that night in Shallows Crag.”
Scott’s eyes widened at this news. “You mean he saw you…”
Steve felt his resolve crumbling with every passing moment as the unknowns piled up around him. “What ritual?” he demanded. He wanted to hope, but he knew it could all be just a trick.
Scott swallowed as Steve backed the point of his sword away an inch, but made no other move. “You thought she killed me,” he breathed. “And that I—“
“What ritual!” Steve pressed.
Scott nodded, acquiescing. “It is possible,” he said, “for a human to become a werewolf. It’s true we rip the throats from our prey during the hunt, to feed, but if this same action is done to a human when the moon is full it will infuse them with the spirit of th
e wolf. It is called the Ritual of Change.”
Steve stood staring at the young man before him. He backed away with eyes wide but extended his arm as he did so, keeping his sword in place. He watched him, not knowing whether something like this could truly exist or if this was merely a ruse to save this imposter’s life.
“Look at me!” Scott said. “Listen to my voice! It’s me! It was the only way Kurella and I could be together. As a human there was no way her father would allow it, but if I were a werewolf also…” He let the thought hang in the air and then his eyes brightened. “You want proof?” He then smiled. “Girls are a lot like cars. You may have a nice car now, but you’ll always notice others that drive by.”
Steve blinked, then dropped his sword as though his arm had no strength left to bear it. Scott last spoke those words back on Earth, just before their fencing practice in the courtyard of their high school.
“I can’t believe it,” Steve whispered and then caught his friend in a fierce hug. “You’re alive!”
Sonya dropped the shields and ran to her friends, wrapping her arms around the both of them with tears in her eyes. The three from another world were three once more and it seemed too impossible to be real. For a long time they remained, hugging each other, Scott and Steve pulling Sonya closer in their embrace, each of them feeling if they let go they might somehow be separated again. But despite their thoughts and feelings, when the time came to leave that unity none of them vanished into thin air.
There were so many things that needed said, and so little time with Haldorum surely on their heels; but first, Sonya noted the way Scott favored the one arm, and after closer inspection was shocked to find it broken.
“Her father,” Scott explained briefly. His arm was swollen and puffy, and it obviously pained him when he tried to move it too much. Sonya touched her fingertips slightly above and below the wound, the golden glow following the sweetness in her voice seeped into the skin and infused the damaged area. In a few moments most of the pain was gone and Scott experimentally flexed the muscles along his forearm with amazement writ clear on his face.
“How does it feel?” she asked.
“I…uh, better,” was the most he could reply as he extended his elbow experimentally a couple more times.
“The swelling will go down in a day or two but, for now, can you travel?”
Sobering somewhat, Scott nodded resolute. “I got here, didn’t I?” He turned then to Argos. “Spread the word to the advancing legions to stay a day’s journey from the Resistance until notified.”
Steve made a mental note to ask his friend how he was capable of telling legions of werewolves what to do, but for the present he let the question go unasked.
The time for explanations, however, was not far off. With a search party surely on their tails there was no time to waste. Scott and Kurella, as wolves, could easily keep up with the rest of their party but would make the horses too skittish for comfort, so Sonya gave up her own mount to the two to ride in human form. With Sonya’s arms wrapped tightly around Steve’s waist, they were on the move again at a quickened pace, explaining to each other along the way all that had transpired in the absence of the other. Scott told of his battle with Gouroth, and Steve recounted everything from the Emperor’s death, to their unsteady alliance with the Jisetrians formed by his engagement to King Gorium’s daughter. As each told their story, the other could only listen amazed.
“Now I see why you’re in such a hurry,” Scott said at last, and Steve nodded. “Without the Emperor to ascend the throne, his daughter has to be found.”
Assuming she’s still alive, Steve thought grimly. He understood Haldorum’s patience in this matter; after all, the prophecy never said anything about when the imperial line would be restored. For all the elder wizard cared, they should attack and after their victory they would have all the time in the world to scour the farthest reaches of the known lands in search of her. Haldorum’s logic was sound, Steve had to admit, but for some reason he felt it important to know the answer and to know it now.
Sonya, feeling the tension in him, squeezed him a little tighter saying, “You okay?”
He patted her clasped hands on his stomach reassuringly. “I’m all right; just wondering about the prophecy.”
“You really ought to try and worry about one thing at a time for a change,” she replied, and Steve could hear the teasing in her voice. “At this rate your head’s liable to explode.”
“Besides,” she continued after a moment, “you’ve got me here, and Scott now, too.”
“And lest you forget us,” Eegrin added, Kayliss running alongside him with Jiv clinging tightly to the tiger’s fur.
Steve cast them all a wide smile, feeling genuinely better. He was, after all, riding out to help forward their cause, surrounded on all sides by his closest friends. His spirits soared as his outlook brightened. If it was destined he should die he could think of no better circumstances under which to do it.
“Come on!” he yelled to them all, kicking his horse to a gallop. “Race ya’!”
Kurella sat between Scott’s legs with her back against his chest, giggling girlishly as the two of them cuddled before a small but cozy fire. The whole group had opted to make camp beside a small lake’s waterfall just before sundown. None wanted to take the chance of riding in the dark, and since they had all been traveling since early morning the rest was welcomed by all.
Kurella squirmed inside the folds of a tunic much too large for her as Scott’s arms snaked around her waist. Scott too wore as much, for the sake of the sensibilities of his clothed traveling companions.
“Look at em’,” Jiv was saying. “Carryin’ long like a couple of fairy folk in heat, they are. Would ya like a room, ya two?”
Scott cleared his throat and regarded the little sprite, the grin refusing to leave his face. “Sorry.”
Steve, Sonya, and Eegrin only smiled, though, as it started up anew not a minute later.
Jiv sighed. “Kids!” he said throwing up his hands exasperated.
Steve sat beside Sonya, the two of them leaning against Kayliss’s lounging form on the other side of the fire from the two werewolves. The cool night air was calming and welcome, and the trees rustled in the wind beneath a half moon hanging sleepily in the sky. The romantic setting served to lull Sonya into a kind of dreamy state that made her smile.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
“You’re very beautiful like that,” Steve commented.
“Oh no,” Jiv muttered, his head falling into his hands. “It’s catchin’.” He climbed to his feet and then stalked out of the firelight. “Ahm leavin’ afore the birdman starts makin’ goo-goo eyes at me.”
Sonya laughed, Steve and Eegrin with her. Then Eegrin finally shrugged his shoulders and said, “He is kind of cute,” setting off a new round of laughter from them all.
At last, Eegrin stood and stretched his wings. “I think I am going to take advantage of such a lovely evening and scout around a bit.” At that he walked to the edge of the lake and dived, his wings carrying him up over the rippling water.
When their winged friend was out of sight Sonya asked, “What was it you said?”
“I said you look beautiful.” After a moment his eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You heard me the first time, didn’t you?”
Sonya effected a winsome smile. “Well, a girl never tires of compliments like that.”
Just then, the two of them noticed the giggling and fidgeting across the way no longer mingled with the crackling of the fire.
“Well, don’t stop on our account,” Scott insisted. “Please, things were just getting interesting.”
Steve flashed a reproachful look. “Don’t you have a flea to scratch somewhere?”
“Ooo, that hurt!” Scott said feigning offence.
Kurella tilted her head and whispered something in Scott’s ear that made his eyes light up.
“Great idea!” he exclaimed. They both stood up and Scott jumped ove
r the fire to take a hand of each of his friends and help them to their feet as well. “Come on,” he said.
“Where are we going?” Sonya asked.
Scott took Kurella’s hand then and moved out of the firelight, almost running in the direction of the lake. “Skinny dipping!”
“Yeah, right,” Sonya said following them. Then she and Steve came across their discarded tunics and breeches, followed shortly by two distinct splashes.
An uncomfortable silence stretched for several heartbeats between Steve and Sonya as they looked uneasily at one another. Then Steve scratched his head, thinking he certainly could use a bath. In fact, they all could after a full day of riding, and the idea certainly sounded inviting. The next thing he knew he was heading toward the water, stripping off his clothes as he went.
Sonya watched his silhouette against the reflected moonlight on the water as he stripped his clothes off. When things got down to the bare essentials, she turned her head away, only to turn back again when it seemed he wasn’t looking. He was, and Steve grinned, before diving headlong into the water. After the initial shock from the temperature, he swam out to where Kurella and Scott were splashing and churning up the water with their play.
“Right on, Steve!” Scott shouted triumphantly upon seeing his friend swimming toward them.
“Why the hell not?” he replied with a toss of his head to clear his hair from his eyes. “I’ve done crazier things.”
Kurella noticed the surreptitious grin as Scott said, “Don’t I know it.”
A fourth splash turned all their heads and then Sonya was swimming out to tread water in the center with the rest of them. And, as far as anyone could tell, naked as a jaybird.
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