The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves (55 page)

Suddenly, her vision
blurred as the world became indistinct, muddled and not quite real.
She felt a strange vibration and thought, for an instant, she was
moving, but it wasn’t right.

A moment after, she was on
the ground, her mouth full of dirt and snow as she rolled and
rolled, end over end until she finally came to stop. She was lying
on her back, looking up at the tree top canopy, covered with clingy
snow. There was something hard and unyielding grasped tightly in
the palm of her right hand. Sweat poured out of every pore on her
small body and her stomach twisted as if she hadn’t eaten in
days.

~~~~~~~~<<<<<<{ ☼
}>>>>>>~~~~~~~~

Face to Face

Day One, Thursday,
Simultaneously…

“
NO!” screamed
Andrew.

Elena was about to rush
forward to stand beside Mikalah when, out of nowhere, came a
torrent of snow and dirt and leaves and twigs and tiny rocks and
just about everything else one could imagine on the
ground.

Only, it wasn’t on the
ground. It was all around them.

The deluge swamped over
her. It was as though someone had tossed a grenade at their feet.
Everything that should’ve been on the ground wasn’t any longer. It
was in the air about them, pummeling their legs, arms, bodies, and
faces.

A heartbeat later, there
was a strange, very loud rumbling of what sounded like thunder, but
it couldn’t have been. The concussion had come directly in front of
her and it hadn’t preceded any lightning. Half an eye-blink later,
the explosion slammed into both her and Andrew, tossing them aside
as if they nothing more than rag dolls. They were hurled to the
ground, covered with every sort of debris imaginable, clogging
their nostrils, ears and noses, making them gag and spit in
disgust, making them deaf, dumb and blind.

*****

Anthony watched with
horrified resignation as the Swüreg loosed his arrow. He knew he
was about to die, even if tried to jump out of the way, there
wasn’t enough time…

Before he felt the arrow
pierce his chest, there came a sound like thunder and his ears
popped. Something, he could only describe as a streak of light and
color, came hurling up the hill, smashing through bushes, dead
branches, even boulders as if they all were nothing more than
paper-mâché. He barely had enough time to register, whatever it
was, it was angling toward him. And then, not quite.

In one instant, it was a
blur of motion, beginning near the large tree sheltering his
sisters. In the next, it swept passed the small trail upon which he
was standing. With terrifying speed, it collided with the hillside
a blink of an eye after. It impacted toward his left and made deep
gash in the ground before coming it to a stop in what looked like a
small meteor crater, complete with ridges of dirt and rock heaped
about a circular rim. He was so astounded when he saw Mikalah lying
on her back with the arrow in her hand, he almost vacated his
bladder and his bowels simultaneously.

“
Mikalah, how did you do
that?!?” exclaimed Anthony, he mouth agape.

“
I don’t know,” whimpered
Mikalah as though she was on the verge of tears.

Then Anthony glanced back
at the Swüreg, who equally surprised. His jaw was hanging almost to
his chest as he lowered his bow. His head swiveling from Anthony to
Mikalah with eyes was wide as they could go.

Anthony motioned for
Mikalah to join him, but stopped in the middle of the
gesture.

That was when Fenris
appeared at the warrior’s back and clouted him over the head with a
fist glowing with a sickly blue-green fire.

“
How many times do I have
to tell you, idiots? THE LORD OF THE STORM WANTS THEM UNSPOILED!”
he howled.

The Swüreg fell to the
ground, the entire back of his head burnt away in the perfect shape
of Fenris’ fist, where it had passed through the hair and bone like
a knife through butter. His lifelessly body fell on the pathway
with a thump just as three other Swüreg came over the ridgeline and
into view.

Anthony’s eyebrows rose on
the own, when he realized the Swüreg were holding two boys. They
were a pair of young men who couldn’t have looked more different
from one another if they tried.

One, had a light
complexion, but not like a typical Caucasian of the United States.
He had more a European caste about his features with dark, unkempt
mange, more facial hair than what was usual for a boy his age. He
had a large, well-muscled frame, belying the training and the work
ethic of an athlete. He had bold facial features, large hands and
feet, and sported a nasty bruise under his right eye, looking quite
new.

The other was much
smaller, about five-foot-six with long stringy muscles. He was
svelte. He appeared strong, despite his size. He was Chinese with
straight black hair, cut in short, in flattop fashion, only a bit
longer than the military version. He would wear it spiked, held in
place with copious amounts of jell. Although, some the spikes had
been broken and tweaked as if the boy had just emerged from a
hard-fought tussle. He had prominent cheekbones atop a wide Asian
face with a rougher sort of complexion. One could see his was a
more rustic Chinese heritage. There was very little
Han
in his
looks.

Both were dressed in sweat
outfits under big winter jackets and gloves, with sturdy hiking
boots on their feet.

Anthony glanced around
nervously as Fenris’ gaze fell upon him. He realized that both of
the bear-dogs had moved up to join Andrew and Elena. The two were
half-heartedly dusting themselves off, peering upward, and
reassessing the rapidly unfolding situation.

Mikalah stood up not
bothering to clean the debris from her person. Her gaze was fixed
upon Fenris, the arrow that would’ve pierced Anthony’s chest
gripped firmly in her small hand.

“
Well, well, it would seem
I have underestimated some of the Guardians in the pocket of the
Kring-Hël,” began the half-wolf, half-man creature in his deep,
lisping voice, feinting at humor that didn’t reach his furled brow
or his angry eyes. “Or, perhaps, I have been duped into believing
the Lord of the Lights’ minions were weak. What say you,
Kring-Hël?” His eyes flicked over toward Kodiak and Kenai, who were
bracketing Andrew and Elena in a defensive posture.

Anthony felt his throat
begin to tighten and he shared a quick glance at Mikalah. He
motioned for her to come and stand beside him for a second time. He
wanted her as far from Fenris as possible. “I really don’t care
what you believe, Dog Face. I just want you to leave us alone.” The
boy was surprised he sounded as defiant and determined as he did.
He sure didn’t feel it inside. His stomach was in knots.

Fenris laughed aloud at
that. His large head tilted back as if he was about to howl like a
wolf. He didn’t, though, and only his rasping, slurping laugh issue
forth from between his jaws. “I am afraid, young one, that is one
wish I cannot grant, for I am bound to the Lord of the Storm. His
commands cannot be disobeyed.” He took a few steps toward
Anthony.

“
Stop where you stand,
foul beast!” shouted Kodiak, vaulting from beneath the eucalyptus
tree to land some ten feet closer to Fenris, her hackles raised,
her teeth bared as a feral growl rumbled in her throat. The ground
shook beneath her.

Kenai stayed behind her,
but moved in front of the two children nearest to her.

“
Or what, little pup, you
will attack me?” snarled the man-wolf. “Do you honestly believe you
can challenge the Storm Lord’s Hand, you and your mongrel offspring
below?” He did stop, but turned to face the bear-dog more directly
as he spoke. “Do you have any idea what countless horrors I have
fended off in order to keep my position as the Lord of the
Vanguard?” He paused to give her time to think on the matter. Then,
“I think you have absolutely no idea of why you are even here in
the Melded World. I think you are merely driven by pure instinct to
protect these doomed children, because you are compelled and cannot
fight against it. You are…”

Anthony was aware Fenris
was still talking, but his horrid voice seemed to drift away into
nothing as a strange movement caught his eye. An instant later, he
heard nothing from him, not a single sound, and could only focus on
the spectacle unfolding before him.

What he noticed first was
the strange sort of behavior exhibited by one of the Swüreg
warriors - the leftmost of the trio. For no immediate reason
Anthony could discern, he began to arch at the torso, from the
middle of his spine, as if he was loosening some tightness in his
back or chest area. Yet, the warrior’s eyes were opened too widely
and his expression didn’t match the appearance of someone
stretching. His orbs began to bulge from some tremendous pressure
pushing them out from behind. He continued to arch, more bent with
each passing second. A strangled weep escaped between his
lips.

The Swüreg next to him
began to turn his head to look at his comrade, a confused
expression written on
his
face when something black, hairy, and tall
swooped out of the falling snow.

Anthony watched aghast, as
this new creature sunk fangs two inches long into
that
unsuspecting
Swüreg’s neck. The force of the bite was immense. Everyone nearby
heard an awful crunching, squishing sound. The black beast ripped a
huge chunk of flesh from the warrior, spitting it out in disgust as
it whipped its head back and forth. Life was already gone from the
second Swüreg. It buckled at the knees and began to fall to the
ground.

As if following some
macabre tune, the first Swüreg lifted from the ground, his feet
kicking outward and into the backs of the two boys. They were
knocked forward, stumbling over the uneven ground, trying to keep
their balance. There was a great ripping sound like the sundering
of a bed sheet, followed by a hollow thump and cracking bone. A
dark, yellow-orange paw burst through the Swüreg’s chest, long
claws holding a good-sized lump of throbbing, pulsating flesh in
its grip.

At his side, he heard
Mikalah gag, recover, only to retch again, throwing-up on the
ground in front of her.

He had just glanced her
way, when he heard another colossal hollow
thump!
From across the way, the
third and final Swüreg – who, to this point, was only vaguely aware
of what was transpiring around him - squelched like an accordion.
It was as though something struck him from behind with the force
equal to that of a wrecking ball. He appeared to squeeze together,
within himself for a second, and in the next, he was
unceremoniously hurled through the air. The warrior flew clear
across the thicket of trees, over Anthony’s head by more than a
dozen feet. With immense force, he smacked into a huge pine tree
not far from where Anthony stood, rattled to the core by what he’d
just witnessed. The impact shook the tree from top to bottom. The
warrior was now no more than a messy pulp, oozing mostly from his
hands and feet. Some of it dropped to the pristine white-colored
ground in a small grizzly heaps, ruining its’ perfection. Some of
it remained in the boughs above, some forty feet from where he’d
stood only moments before.

Fenris turned around in
complete surprise, for the entire event began and ended within a
span of three heartbeats, and he roared. “WHHAAAAAAT!” but then
fell silent as he surveyed not just the damage done to his troops,
but calculating his newfound situation– a dire one at
that.

The black creature was the
one Anthony saw first. His kill had been the quickest, accomplished
with the most efficiency. He thought, at first, it looked sort of
wolf-like, but it didn’t really. It had a pushed-in face, pug-like,
making its’ lips seem frozen in a perpetual frown. It was merely
the shaped of its skull and jaw giving the impression. It had
two-inch canine-looking fangs, protruding from its downturned
mouth, set where its’ lips sagged their lowest, which exaggerated
their length. Its’ eyes were completely black, showing none of the
white of its irises. Its’ fur was long, somewhat wavy, black. It
hung about its’ body streaked many times with long coils of white
fur. To Anthony, it appeared like the sort of a middle-aged man,
salt and pepper. It stood on two legs, well-muscled and cord-like –
strong - ending with padded feet and prominent black-skinned toes.
It had two powerful looking arms, terminating in very man-like,
black-skinned hands. The creature was six feet tall and stood
there, poised, waiting. Its’ eyes were locked on Fenris. Though,
every once and a while, he would glance in Elena’s direction, a
chance peek, a very protective vibe emanated from him. Sensing it
made Anthony frown for some reason.