Miraculous: Tales of the Unknown (14 page)

Squeaks scrambles out from
beneath the hawk. He is breathing heavy and seems just a little
dazed. “Sorry it took so long for me to help you out Mist.” He says
sheepishly.

I cannot help but laugh
before exhaustion and my injuries engulf me in the sweet embrace of
unconsciousness once again.

Chapter Five

It takes us a few days to
recuperate from the hawk incident. My wing is still not fully
healed, I doubt I will ever fly properly again, but at least I can
fly at all. Squeaks is as chipper as can be. I only wish he had
some other mice he could tell the tale of his heroics
to.

The moon rises full the
night I get my first glimpse of the twisted black tower. I shiver,
not from the cold, as I take in every inch of the tower locking it
in my memory.

“
We need
a plan Mist. We can’t just go storming in there. He’s probably got
traps set up everywhere.” Squeaks pointed out.

I shake my head. “He’s a
necromancer. They are cocky and arrogant by nature. They do not
believe anyone can best them in anything. But you are right. I do
not intend to just fly in and demand Merle be released.”

This seems to satisfy
Squeaks and no more was said on the matter as we draw close enough
to see every minute detail. Stone gargoyles flank the corners and
balconies of the tower. They make no movement, their eyes hold a
strange red glow.

I dip out of the currents
and land behind a large charred tree. “We will need to split up. If
I get too close to the gargoyles they will tear me to
shreds.”

“
They’re
statues Mist. They can’t hurt you.” Squeaks states as if I have
lost every ounce of sanity I have.

I shake my head. “No.
Their eyes have an otherworldly light to them. They are puppets of
the necromancer. I am almost certain they were once flesh and blood
before the necromancer got to them.”

“
Gargoyles..Alive? Mist, I may just be a simple field mouse,
but I think I’d know if gargoyles had ever really existed.” Squeaks
says with a small chuckle to his voice.

I sigh in exasperation.
“Not as they are. Necromancers deal with the dead. They manipulate
things to their will. I think each gargoyle was once many
animals.”

“
Chimeras?! Are you sure?” Squeaks asks with pure fear in his
voice.

I nod and extend my good
wing. “I will show you.”

Once Squeaks is securely
on my back, I carefully take off, careful not to get close enough
to wake the gargoyles, but close enough to prove my point. I let my
body lilt to the right take the front corner slowly. I stop to
hover in front of one of the gargoyles. It has the wings of a hawk,
the body of a cat, and the head; the head is a mouse only made
large enough to fit the cat’s body. Its front feet are those of the
cat, the back those of the hawk, its tail is a
scorpion’s.

“
It
almost looks like a manticore!” Squeaks says in fear. I turn my
head to him to find his eyes are glued to the gargoyle. “Bantam…” I
barely hear his whispered word.

I barely have time to land
before Squeaks hops off my back and takes off at a run to the
tower. “Squeaks no!” I call out, but it is too late.

Chapter Six

I see Squeaks begin to
scale the tower corner where the manticore looking gargoyle stands
guard. As I give out my warning, I watch it spring to life giving
off a squawk that can shatter eardrums. The beast peers down at
Squeaks and my breath catches in my throat.

Despite how small he is
and the distance between us, I hear his words clearly as the beast
starts to stalk down the corner of the tower.

“
Bantam
fight it! Fight whatever that necromancer did to you!” Squeaks
pleads as he slowly skitters down the wall trying to get out of the
reach of the gargoyle.

Oh Squeaks, that is not
Bantam…
I think to myself as he continues
to back away from the snarling gargoyle.

Squeaks let out a loud
squeak as the gargoyle snatches him into its paw. I watch in horror
as the beast brings Squeaks to its mouth. I know now how every
mouse I have ever eaten feels in the last moments of its
life.

The gargoyle stops just
before its mouth closes on Squeaks. I look on confused as I hear
the beast begin to purr. Straining, I block out the purring and
pick up just barely, the sound of Squeaks’ voice creating a
mournful melody.

Once on the gargoyle’s
head, Squeaks calls out to me. “Go Mist. Save your wizard! Bantam
won’t hurt me now, she remembers. We’ll keep the others from
bothering you!”

And just like that, the
Bantam gargoyle, equipped with Squeaks, takes off gracefully,
rousing every gargoyle they pass until they are all in hot pursuit
of them. They head away from the tower, back toward the way we had
come.

I spread my wings and dart
from my hiding place, now that the coast is clear. As I zoom in on
an open window, I chance a glance behind me wondering if I would
ever see my little mouse friend again. For the second time in my
life, I feel the cold embrace of loneness.

Chapter Seven

The interior of the tower
is just as dismal as the outside, perhaps more so since there is
very little light. What light does steal in through the window
slits is grey and the air is stale. I ignore the dust that tickles
my beak, as I maneuver the erratic twists and turns of the tower. I
can smell him. My heart rate quickens and a feeling of joy over
takes me. I can smell Merle. I let my sense of smell guide my
course through the labyrinthine maze the necromancer calls home
until it leads me to a moss covered staircase.

The light fades and then
vanishes almost completely the further down the staircase spirals.
I have lost track of which way is up and which way is down. This
part of the tower is void of sound. It is so quiet I hear a dull
buzzing in my ears.

Finally, the spiraled
stairs end and I find myself in a large room lined on either side
with cages big enough to hold five or six humans easily within
them. I do not sense the necromancer, but Merle’s scent is so
strong here, that I give a small hoot.

There’s a rattling sound
to my left, and then I hear him. “Brown Mist? Is that
you?”

The elation I feel at that
moment is immense. I give another hoot and push my tired wings in
the direction of his voice. Then I see him, and it is as though the
entire world has stop turning. My poor Merle locked away in a cage
like a wild animal. I hover in front of the bars taking in his
appearance. He looks as those he has not slept in days. How I wish
he understood my words so I could tell him what I had gone through
to find him.

“
Aw Mist
you shouldn’t be here. If Dante finds you here he’ll do to you like
he’s done to the other animals around here. Go Brown Mist. Be free.
“Merle says and I note clearly, even in the darkness, the shine of
tears in his eyes.

I hoot and shake my head.
He is a fool to think I would leave him. He is all I know and all I
have. I look down at the large padlock on the cage door and try to
pick it to no avail.

Just when I think all is
lost, I hear a familiar squawk right before Bantam and Squeaks come
into view. I watch as Merle shrinks from the bars of the cage, his
features a mask of fear.

“
He
doesn’t look like much Mist.” Squeaks says as he hops off Bantam’s
head and sets himself in front of me.

“
I think
the necromancer used the gargoyles to torture him.” I reply softly,
to which Bantam nods her head causing her stone frame to rub
against itself.

“
What
has you so down?” Squeaks asks as he sits down looking up to
me.

I feel a hard lump in my
throat, and find that speaking is nearly impossible. “I have looked
all this time for Merle. And now that he is found, I can do
nothing! I am useless!” The anger I feel toward myself, surprises
even me.

I feel Squeaks’ small paw
on my leg. “You aren’t useless Mist. No other animal no matter how
big would have done the things you’ve done to find him. So you
can’t pick a lock? Who cares! That’s what you have friends for
Mist. So long as you have friends by your side, you can do
anything.” Squeaks offers me a wink before he scurries to the cage
and examines the lock.

I watch most of his body
disappear into the lock’s opening and after a few seconds I hear a
loud clang. Squeaks emerges and says victoriously
“ta-da!”

I fly into Merle’s arm and
lightly peck his face all over as he hugs me. “You’re such a brave
girl Brown Mist!” He praises me and my heart swells. All I want now
is to go home and forget this adventure.

Then I realize, we will
never make it out of here undetected. As if hearing my thoughts
Dante steps into the room looking every bit like one of the undead
he so loves to play with. Bantam wastes no time and immediately
tackles him. Squeaks snatches the old elder wands that belongs to
Merle from his pocket and while tripping over it a few times,
manages to get it to him.

Merle points the wand at
Dante and everyone freezes their movements. The wizard and the
necromancer stare at each other with pure hatred burning in their
eyes.

“
It’s
over Dante. Your puppets are gone. I’m going to lock you away like
I should have when you killed our parents!” Merle waves the wand
and begins an incantation, before it is complete Dante vanishes,
his maniacal laughter lingering in the air.

Merle sighs and looks at
Bantam. “I can’t do much for you. I can’t make you what you once
were. I can however make you live.” He waves his wand and speaks in
a tongue I do not know. Bantam’s stone exterior cracks and then
begins chipped off in chunks leaving a living, breathing,
chimera.

Bantam purrs loudly and
nudges Merle’s hand with her head. He chuckles as he climbs onto
her back and directs her to the stairs. Squeaks takes his place on
my back and we follow behind.

Although Dante has not
been destroyed, I am happy to be returning home. At least now our
turret will no longer seem so empty and lonely.

The End

Jacob’s
Awakening

A Living Outside the Box Short Story

By: Lisa Marie
Pottgen

© 2013 by Lisa Marie
Pottgen

A vibrant green meadow.
This was the scene that filled Jacob’s vision. A cluster of people
he had never seen before huddled at the far corner. Yet, he felt as
if he knew every one of them. Could it be possible? Was this
another one of
those
times again? You know the feeling, right? Some call it déjà
vu. The feeling you have experienced something before, though you
have never been there, never met the people, never felt the things
you are feeling at that exact moment? Yep, that’s the
one.

“There you are! What took
you so long to get here, my boy?”

It was an older man who
had spoken. He pulled away from the mass of human bodies huddled at
the far end of the clearing when he saw Jacob standing there, a
dazed look on his face. Something about this man seemed very
familiar to Jacob; however he was sure he had never met him
before.

“Or have I?” Jacob mused
to himself.

Something about the older
man tugged at a memory he just could not grasp.

“The eyes. Those electric
blue eyes, where have I seen them before,” Jacob thought to
himself. Jacob himself has brilliant, emerald green eyes. He always
thought they were a combination of his father's sapphire blue and
his mother's honey.

“We have been waiting
quite a long time for you to get here, Jake. I knew you would find
your way to me eventually. You see, I can explain this all. Help it
make more sense for you. Would you like that?”

Jacob stepped back. He was
confused, didn’t understand exactly what the man was talking
about.

“Do not be afraid. You are
dreaming and I know that everything must seem very frightening to
you right now. But this is not the first dream like this you have
had nor will it be the last.”

“Wh-wh-what are you
talking about?”

Jacob froze. His voice
sounded small. He didn’t recognize it. Jacob hadn’t heard his own
voice before. One of the more obvious effects of his autism came in
the form of being nonverbal.

“My boy, you have to have
wondered about the dreams. I know about the dreams you
have.”

“How is that
possible?”

“Because when I was alive,
I had them too. My name is Joseph Baxter. Does that sound familiar
to you?”

Jacob hesitated. He had
heard the name before. But it was impossible, what this man was
saying to him. You see, Joseph Baxter was Jacob’s grandfather.
Jacob had never met the man. He knew him only through pictures
which were always of a much younger man. The photos Jacob recalled
depicted someone who looked strong, healthy, and full of life. This
man before him looked like a man who was well past his
prime.