Hell Hound

by Matthew Sylvester

  We were facing a Hunting Bloat, so it only compromised of males. This was lucky as the females were the more dangerous of the two. Imbued with a protectiveness over their children that far exceeded that of any other creature in existence, the mothers were able to switch into a berserk rage at the slightest thought that their children would be harmed. So protective were they, that they would never dream of leaving them go on hunts or to fight other Bloats for territory. If we'd come across a migrating Bloat, none of us would have survived. At least this way we had a chance.

  The lead male wasn't all that impressive to look at when it came to Trolls. His skin hung in flapping folds over a stomach that was far too flat, missing the racial bulge of all Trolls. He'd hit hard times. That factored in two key components. The first was that they were going to be weak. A bonus for us. The other component was that they were going to be desperate and fight harder whilst they could.

  All this, and much more, cross my mind in the time it took for the Trolls to charge across the small open space between our two groups. Stamping forward, I thrust my Shield before me, one burning dagger in hand, and gave him a good look at the flames licking over the blade. He flinched. It was minor, but it was enough for him to falter on his next step, cause the one behind him to have to swerve to avoid a collision and force every member of the Bloat to alter its direction and, for a moment, think of something other than attacking us. Their OODA loop was well and truly broken. Naturally, I took advantage.

  Drawing deep, I Cast the biggest Fireball I've ever created straight into them, snapping my Shield across my face, turning it into a tower Shield rather than the buckler I preferred. I was only just in time. With mere feet between us, the Fireball slashed over the lead Troll, then exploded. All the air in my lungs was sucked out as the shock wave hit me with the force of a truck. Heat, searing, blinding heat bloomed all over me, even through the Shield, and terrible screams filled my ears. Something hit my back, my head filling with a dull pain as that too hit something. Opening my eyes one last time, I watched as the Troll burned where it stood. Then everything went black.

  '…think she'd know the strength of her own Magic!' said a voice which sounded like it was at the end of a very long tunnel.

  'Hey, no argument from me, Mrs. Lebowski. It's going to take weeks for my hair to grow back. Look at this patch, totally bare!' Raged another voice. Both sounded incredibly angry, but my addled brain couldn't work out who they were nor what had made them so furious.

  'She did what was necessary, six Bog Trolls after the day we've had would have been too much, even had we won. We all have injuries, we're all exhausted no matter how well we hide it, and that second Bloat would have finished off what the first didn't,' said a voice that my addled brain equated with dark chocolate, hugs, and lots and lots of sex.

  'Huh, she's coming around. Wake up, Briar Rose,' said the first voice. There was the sound of a slap, pain in the side of my head, and the whole world shifted on its axis. I decided that I would rather not wake up. Darkness opened its arms, and I gladly entered its embrace.

  'We can't bloody sit around fanny-arsing about whilst she takes a bloody nap!' Seemed the voices were still angry. This time I was able to tell it was an extremely pissed off Mrs. Lebowski.

  'Before you slap me unconscious, I'm awake,' I slurred. Cracking my eyes open I had to blink a few times to clear the mist from them. It was only then that the stench of crisped Bog Troll filled my nostrils. It was like the worst curry shit you've ever smelt mixed in with rotting flesh and burned tyres. I burped.

  'Bloody awful, innit, boss,' said Dawn as she knelt in front of me, gripped my chin, and started turning my head back and forth. She looked an utter state. Huge patches of fresh-looking skin shone in the moonlight where there should have been braids. Her eyebrows also looked strange, until I realised that she didn't have any.

  Reaching out, I touched a bald spot. 'Ummmm, what happened?'

  'You fucking happened!' snapped Lebowski as she stepped into view. Her face was blackened, and her hair stood out in a fan around her head. She, too, was missing eyebrows, meaning that she not only looked bloody furious but surprised at the same time. 'Your shitting Fireball nearly killed us!'

  'But it didn't,' said the hunk from somewhere off to my side. I was bone tired, so I didn't bother looking over. 'As I've said, many times these last few hours, she saved us all with her actions.'

  'Hours?' I asked as Lebowski threw her arms up in the air before stomping off.

  'You've been unconscious for about five hours. That final casting must have utterly drained you. It was the biggest Fireball I've ever seen you Cast. Set every single one of them alight. Not just burning in a couple of places, you turned them into living candles where they stood. The explosion fused them to the ground,' she paused, reaching up to her head, 'but we were all caught in the blast area. Me, you, and Lebowski took the brunt.' There was a burst of swearing as Lebowski stormed towards us or, more accurately, me. Finger raised, she wagged it as she approached until the hunk stepped in front of her. 'Which she's pretty pissed off about. Apparently, amongst her people, hair has a high cultural importance. You've essentially made her look like the lowest caste. Lower if what she's been says it is true.'

  'Huh,' I said. I didn't have much else to say on that. Mainly because I feared that if I did say something that violence would shortly follow. 'I heard something about another Bloat?'

  'Yeah. They were approaching from the other side. Your Fireball scared it off. Which is a good thing, as you knocked half of us out with it.' She raised a hand to a bald patch and sighed. 'I'm going to have to shave what's left off. It fucking hurt, boss.'

  Placing a hand on hers, I gave a shrug and a half-smile. 'I did what I thought was best. Sorry.'

  She looked at me for moment, then gave my chin a squeeze before letting go. 'I know you did, boss. And it worked. This time. But try not to fry us all next time eh? None of us were in any state to face the second Bloat if they hadn't been scared off.'

  Standing up, she walked away, leaving me to try and keep my shit together.

  God give me strength, I thought as I stared at the trees before us. It had taken three hours for our party to trudge through the bog and find our way out, and now we were faced with what could only be described as a jungle. Trees thrust up towards the night sky, taller than any tree should be, whilst birds hooted, trilled, and kakawed at us. Sweat trickled down my back as tropical heat that hadn't been present in the bog wrapped its sweaty man arms around me and forced my head into an armpit that smelt like a dead skunk's arse.

  'We're not fucking going in there, are we?' asked Dawn.

  'Is that a rhetorical question?' I replied absently, scratching at one of the thousands of mosquito bites that now covered my body.

  'It is,' said the hunk. 'We have been moving in a direction that has curved us behind the objective. We need go to through here to get to there.'

  'Wait. What? There was no jungle in sight when we walked around the bloody place looking for a way to get in,' I said, feeling like I was going to cry. I didn't, but I knew that when I was home, healed and soaking in the bath, I was going to bawl my eyes out.

  'Fae defend their territories in this way. We,' he gestured at himself and Lebowski, 'used Portals to transport ourselves directly to the target. Now however, we're in their territory on their terms. We have circled around the objective—believe it or not—and are now faced with a jungle. We go through there, and in a few hours, a day at tops, we should come out the other side to find ourselves back where we started.'

  'Well, why can't you Portal us back there?' asked Dawn, stamping a foot in frustration.

  'Because we were aided by a traitor in Fachan's retinue. I have incurred a great debt on your behalf. Don't push it,' said Lebowski. She'd calmed down after a couple of hours of tramping through the bog, and especially after I'd fallen a couple of times and been stung by a wasp the size of my thumb. Anger still glinted in her eyes though, so I decided to not
push it.

  'Okay, through the jungle it is. How about we have a brew first, though?'

  When I pack for a mission that involves storming enemy-held territory, I take enough stuff to fill a backpack. A hundred-litre backpack to be precise. Thanks to a Charm, I'm able to reduce the weight to that of a feather so it doesn't impede me when, for example, fighting Bog Trolls. Lots of people think that when you attack that you just charge in. Most times, you need to set up a small observation post. That involves digging a scrape to rest your body in, a tarp to cover you, sleeping bag, a smokeless fire, rations, water, the list goes on. The only reason that I was comfortable with entering the Moonlit Refuge without such measures was because of who I was with. Lebowski and her people are worth at least five humans. At least. That, and I just wanted to get John. And, in hindsight, taking our time would have meant we could have avoided the Red Cap patrol and all the kerfuffle that followed. Still, it meant that we could have a brew, a bite to eat, and regain some energy and morale.

  'Bloody lush. Did you bring the choccy Hob Nobs?' Dawn was stripping me of the backpack before I could even reply.

  'Yes, you utter star!'

  'What's a choccy Hob Nob?' asked Hunk as he peered into the now open backpack.

  'Heaven. That's what they are. The king of biscuits. Perfect for dunking into milk, but if dunking into coffee or tea, you have to be quick as they get well soggy…' I tuned the conversation out, happy to just watch as Dawn set about teaching Hunk about the delights of coffee, tea, and choccy biccies.

  All too soon, brews were brewed and biccies devoured, packs shouldered, and shoulders braced. Then we stepped off into the jungle.

  'Even my bloody sweat's sweating,' said Dawn as she wiped her forehead, then flicked her hand, sending a spray of liquid to the soft jungle floor.

  'It is indeed most discomfiting,' said Hunk as he brushed past her. Completely unnecessarily in my mind. The two of them seemed to have bonded over biccies, with him returning her interest. Just without the blushes, sighs, and girly giggles.

  The noise that surrounded us was incredible. It seemed as though every tree and leaf held some form of life that wanted to shout out to the world about its existence. A brass band could have marched past five yards away and we'd never have heard it.

  Even breathing was hard. With the dense tree cover, it was impossible for a breeze to circulate, with the result that the air tasted stale and even felt heavy. It felt like I was drinking stagnant water every time I opened my mouth. So, rather unnaturally for me, I was busy concentrating on walking and not talking.

  The others had subsided into a silence only broken by the odd grumble or curse as someone tripped. Other than that, we were left with our own thoughts. Mine typically turned quickly dark as I rehashed old arguments, came up with witty rejoinders to something mean said to me. Mostly, I thought about the Mark.

  Nothing in my humble opinion had gone right since the moment we were contracted. Every step we'd taken had been dogged by the enemy. It was as if they were watching us. Ridiculous thought, one I dismissed almost immediately, but it was still there. The Librarian, one of our most obvious points of contact if someone knew we were on the Mark, had been turned against us.

  Christine Smith had known what had been done to him, even going so far as to warn us off, and had been killed.

  Her father, a Merlin, had also known, and we'd been forced to kill him.

  And then there were the numerous assassination attempts. Stinky Pete and his people. Whole hosts of Fae had tried and failed.

  Finally, John, dear old John, had been beaten and taken and all our efforts had been put into looking for him, which was the only thing we could have done. Other Agents might have put aside their personal feelings, but I'm known for being somewhat mercurial when it comes to my friends and family. Taking John was the perfect thing to do if someone didn't want us to progress on the Mark.

  Progress, I snorted. Granted, we'd found out that Fachan was behind it, but the only Merlins we'd discovered were involved—by their own actions, not by ours—were now dead with no further leads. We could find and kill Fachan, but that would still leave the traitor Merlins to try something else.

  I was so deep in my thoughts and misery that I missed the first shouts of alarm. What I didn't miss was the arrow that thunked into my body armour.

  'Motherfuc—' I dropped to my knees, winded, and another arrow hissed over me. Had I been standing, it would have hit my face. I rolled behind a tree to my right, activating my Icons.

  'Dawn! Where are you?'

  'Right here, boss,' said a voice next to me, eliciting a yelp of surprise. She was completely covered by a large bush. 'Great, good. Jesus, you scared me.'

  'Sorry, busy surviving,' she said, firing a couple of rounds at a target I couldn't see.

  'Where are the others?'

  'They went the other way, I think. All bar her.'

  I looked where she was pointing. One of Lebowski's people lay on the trail we'd been following, armour peppered with arrows. 'Shit, that's two now.'

  'We don't even know their fucking names,' said Dawn, 'but they're bloody dying so we can get to John and get paid for fuck's sake.' Her voice was raw, and my stomach twisted as the guilt, no…shame, filled me. Just because they hadn't chosen to speak to us didn't mean that I shouldn't have attempted to at least find out their names. I didn't even know Hunk's.

  'Shit, what's that?' Dawn's question snapped me out of my funk.

  'What's what?'

  'The ground, it's vibrating.'

  'No, it's not, it's thudding. That's something big. Coming this way,' I said as each step of whatever-it-was came closer. If we'd been in a blockbuster film, we'd have had a glass of water that would shake with every step.

  'Jane! Where are you?' Lebowski's voice was clear in the silence that had descended. Aside from us, not a living thing was making a noise.

  'Here!' I lifted a hand and waved it in the direction of her voice, hoping it wouldn't be turned into a shish kebab by a poisoned arrow.

  'Liandessert has just told me he thinks that Fachan might have a couple of dinosaurs as pets. It was only a rumour but this con—' she didn't get to finish as the loudest trumpeting roar I've ever heard drowned out her voice. It was eye-wateringly powerful, seeming to come from every direction, the ground rocking with the noise.

  My shoulder rocked as Dawn started slapping it.

  'Fuck's sake, what?' I whispered.

  'Up. Look. Up,' her eyes rolled back so far I thought she'd be able to look through the back of her for life. Lifting my own head slowly, I raised my eyes up to the sky. My tactical 5.11s suddenly felt both wet, and warm as I stared up at a brightly feathered dinosaur. I had no fucking clue what it was, but it was huge. House huge. With jaws that looked as long as I was tall, and teeth as long as my arm. It was as if someone had stuck a crocodile onto the body of a diplodocus with long arms instead of forelegs. It was a fucking nightmare manifested.

  'I want to go home,' Dawn whispered into my ear as the dinosaur stood over us. The ground hadn't shaken with the sound of its roar. The ground had shaken because had stopped a few feet shy of crushing us into the ground.

  It was immediately obvious there was no way we could fight this beast. Not even if we were at our best. Harry Dresden might be able to tame a skeleton Tyrannosaurus Rex using nothing but a one-man oompah band and a load of chutzpah, but this was the real world, and we had three options. Do nothing and die. Fight and die. Run and possibly live. Only I could run far faster than Dawn could if I Shifted.

  'I have a cunning plan,' I whispered back as the dinosaur snorted, showering us with saliva. Or snot. I went with saliva as I was freaked out enough. 'I'll shift and run into its view. You will then run over to Lebowski and leg it. We'll meet up at the objective. Okay? Good. Oh, and find out who the fuck Liandessert is.'

  I didn't wait for her to respond, just Shifted. Even before I'd fully assumed my tiger form, I was leaping forward and into the dinosaur's
line of sight. There was no warning. No hesitation as it decided what to do. As soon as it saw me, the head was descending, maw open wide to swallow me. Or chew me into little pieces as I screamed, which was the vision that leapt into my brain as it lunged for me. Thankfully, my form's natural instinct also took over, and I leaped to safety with a yowl. Landing, I launched myself into a spring, roaring my own challenge as I did, taunting the dinosaur to chase me. I would have given the tiger equivalent of a smile as the beast charged after me, but my lips were drawn back from my teeth in a scared-shitless rictus.

  Whatever the dinosaur was, it had stamina, determination, and a single-minded desire to eat me. To use a technical military term, I was chin-strapped or, in the vernacular, breathing out of my fucking arse.

  I'd drawn the beast away from the others. Of our ambushers, there was no sign, and I knew that they'd probably legged it as soon as the dinosaur made its presence known. That, or they'd deliberately pinned us down so it could get to us. Circling around it, I tried to take the fight to it. My teeth clamped down onto a feathered leg, and I cursed as my teeth struggled to pierce the leathery flesh beneath them. Ripping my teeth free tore a few feathers from its leg. A sense of movement above me was the only warning I had as its jaws descended. Springing away on all fours, I chuffed a laugh as the dinosaur bit its own leg.

  Bounding away, I gave the dinosaur a roar and a flick of my tail before turning back to my original course. In the time it had been chasing me, I'd had a few seconds to come up with a plan. It was a shit plan, but panic, exhaustion, and desperation had me convinced it was the best I was going to come up with. Our numbers were depleted. We were all exhausted and suffering from the effects of a myriad of minor injuries. The cavalry was not going to come to our rescue, and we needed some way of thinning the defender's numbers down. And that's where the psychopathic lizard came in. I was leading it directly to the Moonlit Refuge where, I prayed, I would be able set it upon the Red Caps and all the other death-deserving bastards. Including the spiders. Especially the spiders.