ã€ŠRaise Them up in the Way They Should Goã€‹


 1. Unusual Hero, Unusual Innkeeper

    Cheeseburg was a well-populated, bustling city. Of course it was, holding the residence of the royal family for the surrounding kingdom. This thrumming metropolis was home to an adventurer¡¯s guild, a massive marketplace, the barracks, stables, and archery range for the nation¡¯s army, a massive cathedral, and a teeming throng of happy, productive citizens going about their lives under the guiding paw of a fair and just king. Many a great adventure and a great adventurer got their start here.

    So, naturally, this was not the place Nathan took David to recover after their last adventure. It was far too crowded and strange for the gray man. Nathan himself found it overwhelming. He doubted very much his friend would get any rest and David badly needed rest.

    Instead, Nathan chose the little farming town of Digbury. It was far enough away from Cheeseburg that there would not be a lot of spillover from people traveling there. A sleepy little town out of the way enough to provide respite. Even though Nathan opened the portal only a quarter mile away from the city, David barely had the energy left to drag himself to the nearest inn. Having not slept nor eaten more than a few scraps of meat over eight days, he was running on fumes. Nathan felt bad, but it was necessary. Townsfolk disliked having portals opening randomly in the town square.

    The Angry Heifer was Digbury¡¯s only inn, and the only one for miles. That did not mean it was subpar. The smell of roasting meat surrounded the well-loved wooden building like a heavenly cloud. It had an energizing effect on David. His body dragging its long limbs, gray eyes unfocused, his only thoughts putting one foot in front of the other where Nathan led him. When the smell hit his sensitive nose, he straightened up to his full seven and a half feet height and moved past Nathan. The dirt path turned to cobblestone as it approached the door. Clomping his large feet down on them, David made no effort to muffle his steps as he pushed open the wooden door and slipped inside.

    Nathan entered behind him, wings folded behind his back to get through a door that was, perhaps, a little too narrow for him to walk through while spread. They felt oddly stiff since his confinement. Pleasant as it was, he was still in a cramped space for too long. Blue membranes stretched between the fingers of his wings. An electric, bright blue, they almost glowed in the low light of the inn. It contrasted his silver fur nicely. Nathan was nearly six feet tall and quite thin. A stoat¡¯s body was supposed to be long and trim and he fit the definition well. Maybe a little thicker around the middle and chest than most stoats, but Nathan insisted it was all muscle. Seeing him wave his heavy labrys around like it weighed as much as a toothpick lent credence to this. Green markings adorned his body. An X across his chest, an axe head shaped mask over his eyes, a splotch on the tip of his tail. His flesh on his paw pads was electric blue. Even his tongue and eyes were blue. Bright colors to draw the eye and warn predators. His entire existence was a warning to those who preyed on others.

    But, so was David¡¯s. In contrast to his friend, he could not have been more plain. Gray skin over his entire body, a shock of muddy colored hair on top of his head. He was human¡­probably. Most humans had a lack of fur, no tail, and upright posture. Most did not have thick, gray skin, arms that were long enough to hang to their knees when standing, and piercing gray eyes staring out from an ugly face with a hooked nose. No fur meant he wore clothes. No care for fashion meant he wore the same t shirt, patched up blue jeans, cheap sneakers, and well-worn overcoat every day. No desire to be anything but a vagrant hero meant he carried all of his possessions in a large camper¡¯s backpack. His only notable injury at present was on his hand. Nathan felt a little bad about it, being as the bite was from him. Shameful story he resolved never to tell anyone. More shameful that David was too starved to rapidly heal it, as was typical. The bandage was damp with his blood.

    Eager as he was to eat, he was still David. He stood frozen in the door. Nathan stepped out behind him. The main floor of the inn housed the tavern and this was a busy one. Raucous hired hands occupied nearly every table and most of the bar. A hot meal and a mug of ale from a barrel enchanted to keep it cold helped a hard day¡¯s work go down a lot easier. Laughing and joking, swapping stories and reminiscing. The din could be heard outside of the door and it was louder on the inside.

    Nathan looked up at him, but already knew what he was doing. David¡¯s eyes panned back and forth over the crowd. Even when exhausted, he was hypervigilant. Every unfamiliar person was a potential threat. Every one a possible villain. Experience taught that he could not afford to let his guard down until he knew it was safe. Standing in the doorway was not going to get them anywhere. Before he could finish his threat assessment, Nathan tugged on his overcoat. David snapped his head down to look at Nathan. It probably felt like a snap to him, but he was so tired it looked more like a camera slowly panning from one side of a lecture hall to the other.

    ¡°C¡¯mon Dave. Let¡¯s find a table. They¡¯re good people here. Rowdy, but good.¡± He could have gotten a room for David first, but he figured he wanted food more than sleep. David nodded once, but the movement of his head could have been attributed to him starting to nod off. The stoat looked over the room to find a good table. A rough, but feminine voice interrupted him.

    ¡°Prince Nathan? Is that really you?¡± The voice had a slightly coarse quality to it. Alto in tone, unmistakably female, but a voice that had seen some hard living. She sounded familiar, but Nathan could not place her by her voice alone. Better turn his head to get a look at her.

    She was a dog. Not a dog in the figurative sense, though she would only be considered pretty by a very small number of people. She was one of the standard anthro folk that were scattered across the kingdom mixed in with the various fairies and elves and dragons and other fantastical creatures that populated it. Her breed was some sort of whippet, but dogs had such wildly divergent morphology that one could only speculate. She had a long muzzle which was, perhaps, a bit less narrow than a standard whippet¡¯s muzzle. Her body tall, taller than Nathan, and not exactly thin but not exactly fat either. Her fur was white with random black splotches along the back of her neck, and over the rest of her visible fur. It resembled the color of dirty dishwater. Her clothing consisted of a simple green dress with short sleeves and a grease-stained apron that was white at one point, but that was years ago. Her hair was black and tied back in a tight braid behind her head. Functional clothing and hairstyle choices for someone who spent a lot of time cooking, cleaning, and dealing with energetic customers.

    Nathan could have recognized her as the owner of the inn from how she carried herself, but really recognized her by her face. When he saw it, he made a conscious effort not to wince. Most of her face looked fine. A little homely, maybe, but fine. Scars twisted in uneven lines all across the right side of her face, making the fur appear patchy and discolored. Her right eye was missing, covered with a leather patch. Her right ear, somewhat floppy and somewhat stiff, had a large chunk taken out of it. The smile on her face showed no shyness from missing three teeth; a fang and the two teeth flanking it from her right upper jaw.

    Faces were something Nathan had a lot of trouble remembering. They all sort of blended together in a jumble of incomprehensible features. Her face he remembered quite well. Being good with names, he already had the two items matched up. ¡°Hey Sasha. Yeah, it¡¯s me. Not surprised you can¡¯t tell right away. Been changing.¡±

    ¡°Always have the same marks though. I¡¯d recognize them anywhere.¡± Nathan had to keep himself from saying the same to her. Very rude. She continued. ¡°Looks like you¡¯ve lost weight too.¡± Now Nathan felt himself blushing. Any compliments from a female could do that. Good thing he had fur.

    She stopped looking at him and titled her head toward David to catch him with her remaining eye. From head to toe, she took him in. She was staring, but that was pretty common when someone first saw him. His facial features were very sharp and a little jarring if you were unprepared for it. David glanced up, but did not stare back. Just a simple glance, then he went back to looking over the room between long blinks. She blinked too. This was usually the part where they looked away, knowing it would be rude to stare. She did not, looking him over again. Then at the bandage wrapped around his hand. The staring was a little weird. She finally spoke.

    ¡°Who¡¯s your big friend?¡± Her eye left David, flicking away to the other side of the room, then back to him. A frown on her muzzle, she sighed. ¡°Just a second.¡± The dog turned and stormed toward a table near the far wall. It was in a corner, as far away as one could get from both the bar and the front door without being in another room. In that location, one could easily and slyly stir up trouble.

    Sitting at the table were a couple of anthros that had to be in their teens. One was a bobcat wearing a pair of overalls and a long-sleeved red shirt. The other, a short border collie with white and black spotted fur. He was dressed in a green work shirt and pair of rough-spun cotton pants. If one shook the dirt off of his clothes, one might have been able to fill a small garden plot. Both of them were hunched over the table, the border collie¡¯s tail wagging behind him. They were very interested in something on the wooden surface, evidenced by the mischievous grins on their muzzles. Sasha may have had heavy footfalls, but they were so entranced in what they were doing and the inn was so loud they did not notice her until she was directly next to the table.

    A whippet shaped shadow fell over the two teenage boys. Simultaneously, their ears flattened against their skulls and they turned their heads toward her. The lynx did not have time to turn his head all the way. A calloused dog paw grabbed ahold of his ear, twisted, and pulled. The poor lynx yipped loud enough to turn heads. He was half dragged and half stood out of his chair, wobbling over it. A small pocket knife fell out of his paw as he did.

    ¡°I told you boys last time, don¡¯t carve stuff onto my tables.¡± Sasha¡¯s tone was calm and measured. Downright maternal, like she was scolding a child. In a way, she was. ¡°What was so important you needed to scratch it in there?¡± She looked at the table. ¡°¡¯Butt¡¯s twelve by pies?¡¯ What does that even mean?¡±

    ¡°I thought it sounded funny!¡± The cat whined. The border collie snickered and covered his muzzle, but it was not enough to avoid a stern glare from Sasha.

    ¡°And you, Guntram. I told you to wash last time. You¡¯re even dirtier than before!¡±

    Guntram¡¯s ears lowered. ¡°I was gonna¡­.but I fell in the mud.¡±

    ¡°Fell in the¡­.¡± She sighed. ¡°Look, I told you last time, when you boys come into my inn, you come correct or get yourself gone.¡±

    ¡°Haha, you tell em¡¯, Sasha!¡± Someone yelled from the bar.

    She turned her head. ¡°You start in and I¡¯ll throw your butt out too!¡± Silence. Not just from him, but from the whole inn. Nathan was really enjoying this scene. Highly amusing.

    ¡°Hehe, butt.¡± The bobcat chuckled. Nathan almost did too. Sasha responded to the cat by twisting his ear.

    ¡°Come on. Out, both of you.¡± Sasha commanded, pulling the cat away from the table.

    ¡°Hey, but we¡­.¡± Guntram started.

    ¡°Come back tomorrow morning and we can talk about how you¡¯ll make up for scratching my table. Either fixing it or working off what it¡¯ll cost to fix it.¡±

    ¡°Come on Miss Moxley!¡± The bobcat whined. ¡°We¡­.¡±

    ¡°No more backtalk.¡± She kept walking toward the door, forcing him to go with her. Guntram followed behind. ¡°Out!¡± She pushed the cat toward the door. He ran, Guntram scurrying off after him.

    After clearing the roustabouts from her inn, she walked back up to Nathan. As she wiped her paws off on her apron, Nathan spoke to her.

    ¡°Running a tight ship as always, eh?¡±

    Sasha smiled and nodded. ¡°Well, of course. It¡¯s my inn. Everyone¡¯s welcome as long as they respect it.¡±

    ¡°Not the inn for misbehave-inn?¡± Nathan wagged his tail.

    ¡°Careful, or I¡¯ll drag you out by your ear next. Don¡¯t think I won¡¯t just cause you¡¯re royalty.¡± Despite her vocal annoyance, she was smiling again. ¡°But everyone¡¯s family here. Digbury¡¯s like that. Rowdy boys are fine, but not if you¡¯re gonna be rude.¡± Nathan was about to say something, but Sasha kept talking, turning her good eye to David. ¡°And you haven¡¯t introduced me to your friend yet.¡±

    Nathan was so enthralled with watching the scene he almost forgot. Sometimes, being every mustelid lent itself to being distractable. ¡°Oh yeah, that. This¡¯s David.¡± He inclined his head toward the tall humanoid. ¡°Say hello to the nice lady, Dave.¡±

    David looked at her, but his eyes were only partially focused. He sniffed the air again. Then realized she was looking at him. ¡°¡­.Hello.¡± He finally said in a voice that would make most people wince. Being in this state did not make his voice any less coarse.

    Sasha did not wince. Instead, she tilted her head. David must have looked a fright. His skin was even paler than usual. His cheeks more drawn. He was usually thin, but his high metabolism meant he burned through what little reserve fat he had rapidly. His posture stooped, one could have mistaken him for a reanimated corpse. ¡°Oh¡­David, are you all right? You look half dead.¡± She looked at Nathan. ¡°Is he half dead? Or all dead? And he¡¯s so thin¡­.¡±

    ¡°That, yeah. Well, he hasn¡¯t slept or eaten in over a week.¡± Remember what you came in for, Nathan. ¡°We were hoping for a room and some food.¡±

    ¡°Why in all kingdoms would he do that? Was he a prisoner?¡±

    ¡°No, nothing like that. He, um¡­¡± Nathan looked away. ¡°Kind of¡­.saved me from something.¡±

    ¡°Hah, in trouble as always. What could possibly hold you for a day, let alone an entire week?¡±

    Nathan felt his cheeks burn with blush. Not ready to talk about it yet. ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it. Can we please have a table? I¡¯m worried if he doesn¡¯t eat soon, he¡¯ll start eyeing the village livestock.¡±

    ¡°Meat eater, eh?¡± She grinned. ¡°Good man. Good man indeed.¡± She reached up and took one of David¡¯s hands, the non-injured one. He was too tired to resist. ¡°Must be some man to save a prince. Come on, hero. Let¡¯s get you seated. I have lots of cabbage rolls for you and I¡¯ll make sure they¡¯re full of meat.¡±

    They were led to the table the troublesome kids occupied. Nathan fell behind at first, but mostly because he was shocked David let himself get led there by a stranger. Maybe it was because it seemed like Nathan was friendly with her, and he trusted Nathan. Maybe it was because he was in worse shape than Nathan thought. What annoyed him was that she had him sit in the chair that held the bobcat rather than dirty Guntram. He quietly huffed while he brushed the dirt off of the seat he was going to use. He opened his mouth to make a joke, but Sasha spoke too soon.

    ¡°And I know, Nathan. No cabbage rolls. It ruins the cabbage, all that stuff you always say when I try to make you eat healthy. Don¡¯t worry, I have some sausages for you and can cook you up some eggs.¡± Eggs? That was more like it. He closed his mouth.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    Sasha vanished into the kitchen. She had a cook and a cleaner, but she helped wherever needed. It seemed like she wanted to be the one to make this meal herself. After a few minutes, she returned with a plate of sausages and sunny side up eggs cooked in the grease, a plate with two enormous cabbage rolls practically bursting with beef, rice, and onion, a mug of ale for David, and a mug of a sweet, non-alcoholic beverage that kids enjoyed in Digbury. It was made with apples, roots, and spices with a little honey for sweetness. It was something between root beer, apple cider, and ginger ale if Nathan was forced to describe it.

    David tore into his meal like a starving man. They were provided with silverware, but he did not touch it. Taking the roll shape to be finger food, he ate with his hands. He made short work of the first two rolls, them lasting three minutes. He did not speak during that time, just kept eating. Sasha must have known this would happen, as she already had another plate with two more cabbage rolls when his plate was empty. He attacked these with similar gusto. Nathan was almost finished with his eggs by the time Sasha brought him out plate number three. He looked up at her, mouth smeared with grease.

    She chuckled. ¡°Don¡¯t eat so fast, big guy. You¡¯ll get a gutache.¡± Just the same, she took the empty plate and slid the next one in front of him.

    Those words were what made him pause. ¡°Yes¡­.should not¡­..¡± He glanced at the cabbage rolls. ¡°Eat so much¡­.¡± His stomach growled audibly. Still very hungry. It was obvious, but whatever rules he internalized governing food intake made him stop.

    ¡°No, no, no. None of that. You don¡¯t eat those and I¡¯ll throw them out.¡± She put a paw on his shoulder. ¡°A week¡¯s a long time to go without food, especially when you¡¯re saving people. You eat till you¡¯re full and I won¡¯t hear anything different.¡±

    David was silent for some time. Nathan expected him to pull away. He did not. ¡°Thank you¡­.best food ever eaten.¡± He stated before he finally picked up the silverware and started to eat unlike a famished barbarian. Still fast, but not behaving as though his food was about to escape. Sasha walked away with a smile on her face to get the next set of cabbage rolls ready for him, most likely. Nathan found it strange, but attributed it to David being in such rough shape. He knew what it was like to be hungry and exhausted beyond one¡¯s limits.

    David ate twelve rolls in all. Sasha would have brought him more, but when she brought him the sixth plate, he told her that was enough. His color returned and his skin was starting to fill back out, indicating his metabolism was refilling whatever reserves he had. A full stomach meant one of his needs was met. Now he just needed sleep. Badly needed sleep, since he was starting to doze off at the table.

    They were shown upstairs to their room. Sasha told Nathan that there would be no charge, his heroic reputation being what it was. The stoat insisted on paying full price. It always made him bristle to get treated to free stuff without doing something to earn it. No monsters slain, townsfolk rescued, or crops protected. Besides, it was good to support local businesses.

    The room was a standard room for a standard inn. A window overlooking the town, comfortable chairs and a table, a dresser that was always empty because most people did not stay long enough to unpack, a bedside table containing a copy of the Bible, and two beds.

    David used neither of them. Staggering into the room, he shrugged off his backpack, flopped on the floor, and was sleeping soundly within seconds. Most might attribute this to being exhausted, but David never slept in a bed.

    Nathan only sort of slept in his bed. He took all of the blankets and pillows off of it, then stuffed them underneath. Later, when it was time for him to go to sleep, he would shrink down to the size of a ferret and burrow into their midst. He knew it was a little weird, but he did not care. No mustelid could resist a good, cozy burrow, and it was innocuous enough Nathan would not fight it.

    David slept through the night. When Nathan woke up in the morning, he was still sleeping. Surprising, as he always woke up before Nathan when they were sleeping somewhere that did not require taking turns sleeping through the night. Even then, he usually stayed up the whole night, only needing to sleep every three days. This was his longest stretch of sleep Nathan ever saw; a testament to how truly exhausted he was.

    It was time for breakfast, but Nathan just let him sleep. He grew to his full size, stretched, and left the room to head to the tavern. Like every morning, he craved eggs. Weasels always craved eggs. However, maybe he should get some vegetables in today? On the way out of the room, he nearly ran into Sasha. Her fist up, it was clear she was about to knock on the door. Startled, Nathan stepped back.

    ¡°Oh, uh, morning, Sasha. Everything all right?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Good morning, Prince Nathan. Hope you slept well.¡± Sasha smiled her gap-toothed smile. ¡°Is David up yet? Brought him some breakfast.¡±

    Nathan finally glanced at her paws. She was carrying a plate ladened with breakfast meats and assorted fruits. Breakfast in bed? Well, breakfast on the floor. Why was she doing this? ¡°Huh. He¡¯s still sleeping. I can bring it in to him.¡± He reached out to take the tray and Sasha moved it out of his reach.

    ¡°I¡¯d rather bring it to him myself, if it¡¯s all the same to you. He was so sick yesterday that it wouldn¡¯t be right if I didn¡¯t check on him.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s fine¡­.¡± Nathan raised an eyebrow. He was not used to people wanting to check on David. Somehow, he was sure David was even less used to it.

    ¡°He practically passed out on my floor. I insist.¡± Sasha retorted. Unwilling to wait for Nathan to move on, she moved to push past him. ¡°Go on down for something to eat. It¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    Nathan stepped aside to avoid getting shouldered out of the way by the dog. He knew better than to get in the way of a determined innkeeper. As she passed him, a thought occurred. David was always on the lookout for people he did not know. Everyone was a threat until they showed they were not.

    ¡°Uh, Sasha, that¡¯s not a good idea. If he wakes up and some stranger¡¯s looking at him, he might get nervous. Then angry. Then violent.¡± Nathan realized that sounded bad, so he had to say something else. ¡°I mean, people try to kill him all the time. I¡¯m the same way sometimes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Sasha smiled, beaming with confidence. ¡°Run along and get something to eat. You¡¯ll starve to death if all you do is stand in the hallway.¡±

    Nathan walked out of the room and shut the door. The thought occurred to him that he had just been kicked out of his own room. Downright surreal, but everything about the last couple weeks had been. ¡°Heh. Life of an adventurer¡¯s never boring. Even when you¡¯re in town.¡± Nathan said to the door before walking down for breakfast.

    One good breakfast later, Nathan went back to his room. While eating, he started to regret leaving Sasha alone with David. He should have insisted on staying, even if she tried her best to kick him out. The whole situation was not only odd, but had the potential to turn ugly. He wanted to be able to return to Digbury in the future. His friend assaulting a townswoman as popular as her would ensure they would not be welcome in the future.

    To that end, he practically inhaled his breakfast and scurried up the stairs as quickly as his short legs allowed. He half expected the door to be broken and a trail of blood leading away from it. No, that would be silly. He would have heard a fight from downstairs. David showed restraint in the past, so there was no way he would assault someone who showed him no hostile intentions, even if she woke him unexpectedly. Right?

    The door was intact, always a good sign. Nathan held his ear to the door to see if he could ascertain what was going on inside before entering. Quiet talking. No shouting, no impacts, no threats, no heated words. Hm. Another good sign. It appeared his fears were warrantless. This was confirmed when he opened the door.

    David and Sasha sat opposite each other at the room¡¯s singular table. He was finishing the plate of food she brought him, eating the last bit of fruit. Of course, he ate the meat first. The bandage was gone from his hand, indicating he healed up just fine. She was speaking to him, near the end of one of her stories. When Nathan entered, David glanced at him for a moment. Even listening to her, he was vigilant. He knew he was there, but turned his attention right back to her.

    ¡°So, before they left, they apologized for breaking the barrel of ale. I didn¡¯t mind so much, floor had never been cleaner after they mopped up. Even paid me for the lost ale. Good kids, especially for mercenaries.¡±

    David exhaled and looked at Sasha with that stare he used when about to say something disparaging about human nature. ¡°Bad people¡­..will hurt others again.¡±

    Sasha smiled. ¡°Probably not. They¡¯re trying, at least. Trying to turn their lives around. I feel like they¡¯ll do fine.¡±

    David shook his head. ¡°No one changes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it¡¯s easy to believe that. You¡¯re the kind of hero that¡¯s seen a lot. I can see it in your eyes. But, the good Lord can change anyone¡¯s heart.¡±

    David looked at Nathan again and the stoat smiled. This was a sentiment he shared time and again. He looked back at her and spoke.

    ¡°Evil does not change. Only prey on the innocent.¡±

    ¡°Some do. God can redeem the worst of sinners.¡± Sasha folded her paws in front of her. ¡°Of course, those who don¡¯t have people like you to worry about.¡± She chuckled. ¡°Punisher of evil, defender of the downtrodden, right?¡±

    David nodded once.

    Sasha finally noticed Nathan return. She waved at him. ¡°Welcome back, Nathan. Hope you had a good breakfast. Cuthbert burns the bacon sometimes, but he means well.¡±

    ¡°It was¡­fine.¡± Nathan was a little surprised someone was willingly sitting down to talk to David. ¡°Were you¡­waiting long?¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, no. He woke up as soon as I put the food on the table. Must¡¯ve still been hungry.¡± She looked at David. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t go so long without eating. Big hero like you needs his strength. Evil¡¯s not going to punish itself, right?¡±

    David nodded.

    ¡°And after that, we just got to talking. Must have lost track of time. It happens.¡±

    ¡°Sometimes¡­.¡± Nathan flicked an ear. This seemed so mundane that it was surreal. He shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s fine, though. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. Blood flies when we find someone evil.¡± Nathan grinned and wagged his tail. That was more like it.

    Sasha let out a short laugh. ¡°That¡¯s the way!¡± She stood up and smoothed down her apron. ¡°Gonna get back to it. Don¡¯t want the kitchen slacking just because they think I¡¯m busy.¡± She walked toward the door, but stopped before leaving. ¡°Oh, one more thing. There were some bounty hunters downstairs earlier. Tough looking bunch, but a bit clueless. Looking for some big wizard. Might want to check with them, they look like they need all the help they can get. Should still be at the back table, trying to look inconspicuous.¡±

    The door closed behind her. Nathan was about to ask David if they should check it out, but he was already reaching for his backpack to put it on. They were on the same wavelength when it came to fighting villains. Without another word spoken, they headed out to find out about their quarry, whatever it may be.

    The meeting with the bounty hunters was unremarkable. A quartet of scarred up nobodies barely worth mentioning. They mostly made their living knocking off highwaymen and the occasional livestock-stealing ogre. They were looking to make a name for themselves hunting down a real threat. Nathan wished them well, but hoped that they did not find who they were looking for. A rogue wizard was more than they could handle and they did not even know it.

    The wizard¡¯s wanted poster lay on the table in front of the two heroes. Nathan, being royalty, had no trouble convincing the bounty hunters to leave them a copy. A highly detailed image, etched by magic from the details of several witnesses, was centered on the paper. An anthro bear was depicted. Height listed was about seven feet tall, weight at six hundred pounds. His fur was brown, with darker brown fur on his muzzle bordering on black. Long black hair hung to his mid back and was woven into a tight braid. The eyes on these wanted posters were always the same; they stared with blank menace out of the page. They also happened to be brown. His build was heavy with fat and muscle. In the picture he was dressed in a dark green tunic and traveler¡¯s cloak, with bare feet and black slacks. Printed under his image in easy to read, block letters was:

    Kiam Dietrich

    Druid/Wizard in command of the foulest aspects of nature.

    Wanted for hundreds of murders over several generations, multiple crop failures, crimes against nature. Approach with extreme caution.

    Reward: 20,000 gold or 2000 acres of land or 1,000 Republic of Willy Fun Bucks.

    It listed that he was last seen in the Great Northern Forest, but his current whereabouts were not known. A few places were listed, so that helped narrow it down. Being a druid, he was more likely to set up in a place without a large amount of magical interference to get in the way of communicating with his fake gods. And a forest. Definitely a forest.

    Nathan glanced up at David. A deep scowl crossed his face; an expression Nathan saw whenever he was thinking of a particularly egregious evil. ¡°Know this guy, Dave?¡±

    ¡°¡­.know his face. Seen his victims.¡± He growled.

    ¡°Well, you know what to look for. Good, that¡¯ll save us some time.¡± Nathan flicked his tail. ¡°Kind of surprised you didn¡¯t catch him if you know about him. Not like you.¡±

    David shook his head. ¡°Saw victims, not him. Fairies showed me.¡±

    ¡°Heh, guess he didn¡¯t like the fairies from your world much either. They do seem a little intense sometimes.¡± Nathan rolled up the poster. ¡°Since you¡¯ve seen him¡­.somehow, I¡¯ll keep this. We better get moving. I¡¯m thinking we split up for this one. I¡¯ll open a portal to one world for you, then one for me. I¡¯ll come back for you after a couple of weeks. Sound good?¡± David nodded. ¡°Grood. Let¡¯s go do the right thing, not the nice thing.¡± Nathan chuckled, then added. ¡°Better buy lots of travel rations this time. Don¡¯t want you starving without me. Think you can manage on your own this time?¡± David glared at him. Well, at least Nathan thought it was funny. He grinned showing all his teeth and darted off.

    A dozen steps after leaving the inn, David and Nathan¡¯s minds were already on their work. They were not so focused that they missed Sasha calling after them. ¡°David, Nathan, wait!¡±

    They paused. Simultaneously, their heads turned to see the whippet trot toward them with the brisk steps of someone who got their start waiting tables in a busy tavern. Nathan was always impressed with how quickly an innkeeper was capable of walking.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re about to buy supplies for a long journey. But, I wanted to bring you some more of those cabbage rolls you like.¡± She held the box out to David. He looked down at them, but said nothing. He did not seem to know how to process it, so he looked to Nathan for help.

    Helping David escape awkwardness was not on his mind. ¡°Cabbage rolls? Bring anything for me?¡± What was he, chopped rodent?

    ¡°If you like, you can have some. They¡¯re good for you.¡± She nodded to Nathan, but looked up at David. ¡°I want you to keep your strength up. You¡¯ll need it if you¡¯re going to run off righting wrongs and slaying wizards.¡±

    David nodded again. He reached out and took the box. The smell seeped through, but it was not unpleasant to the gray man, judging by how he smelled it. The ghost of a smile was on his face. ¡°Thank you.¡± He said simply.

    ¡°My pleasure. You boys come back here whenever you¡¯re in the area. I¡¯ll make sure you¡¯re well fed.¡± Sasha leaned up and beckoned with a finger. ¡°One more thing though. Need to tell you something. Lean in.¡±

    David raised an eyebrow. A little confused, sure, but he did what she asked. He leaned over. His head was now, more or less, on level with hers. She leaned up and pressed the tip of her muzzle to his lips. A kiss, however brief, was still a kiss. She pulled back before the confused man could jerk his head away.

    Sasha turned and walked away. ¡°Hope to see you again soon, heroes. I¡¯ll leave the light on for you.¡± The whippet¡¯s body vanished into the inn.

    David blinked. He straightened up his body and just stood there. Processing that was going to take him some time.

    Nathan, on the other hand, practically had to pick his jaw up off the floor. ¡°What the Hell was that?!¡± He gestured wildly.

    ¡°¡­..Do not know.¡± David commented. He shook his head, unslung his backpack, and stuffed the rolls inside. ¡°Work to do. Supplies, then kill the bear.¡± The heavy, canvas pack slung over his shoulders. He was already walking toward the general store.

    ¡°Hey, wait up! That¡¯s¡­..¡± Nathan slumped. This was all too weird. Maybe it was best to just ignore it, like David did. He followed after.

 2. The Red Flowers

    At over two centuries old, Kiam was starting to realize he was no longer a young man.  His body, altered as it was, had held up fine over the years.  Limbs still worked, still had the full range of motion, still had all of the strength and stamina in his ursine body the Mutter des Bodens blessed him with two hundred years ago.  He felt so well and healthy no one would guess his age, even if he were not magically augmented.

    However, everything in nature was cyclical.  All things that live must die and return to the soil.  While he was the Mutter des Bodens¡¯ chosen, he was well aware that it was not her way to keep him alive forever.  One day, he too would be called to go the way of all things.  To that end, more and more, he was thinking of the thing everyone who pondered their legacy thought of.  He wanted children.

    Just because someone wanted something did not mean it would materialize with no effort.  Kiam was normally content with staying in nature, communing with the trees and plants around his most recent cabin.  To get what he wanted, he had to venture near civilized towns more often than he liked.  More often than he ever had since he was chosen.  More often than he should have.  He took dozens of girls from the surrounding towns over the span of a year.  None of them were suitable for one reason or another, so he had to dispose of them.  While the soil appreciated their blood and his belly their flesh, the communities took notice.

    So, he had to leave.  Once again, he left his cabin behind.  Leave not just the cabin, but that entire world, just to ensure he would remain undisturbed by petty, vengeance seeking fools.  A few fools tromping around his forest he could handle.  When they brought in lots of vehicles and friends and weapons was when it became bothersome.  Kill a squad of people, they just sent more next time.  It was more trouble than it was worth.

    However, they were not so sharp they came for him right away.  So, he took his time packing up all of his effects before he left.  He did not mind leaving behind bodies, no matter the number.  They fed the soil.  The time before that, he had to leave so quickly that he left behind a few trinkets and one of his favorite self-portraits.  The fairies of that particular forest were disagreeable and did not recognize the Mutter des Bodens.  They worshipped an Earth spirit unfamiliar to him.  Several of them, in fact.  They were not happy with his presence.  Kiam knew better than to try to compete with an entire legion of fairies spread out over who knew how many forests.  So, he left after only a half year.

    It was not so bad.  This world had very large, very quiet forests full of wild game.  There was a lot of natural energy to the world and few people skilled in magic, from what he had heard.  This meant he did not have to worry about errant magical creatures and wizards messing with him.  That also meant fewer creatures with means to defend themselves against his magic, so guiding in prey to fill his belly was all the easier.

    A full belly, a quiet cabin, a lush garden, and plenty of time to practice ballet were nice, but he could not forget what he was here for.  After spending a month getting his living situation just right, he was ready to seek out suitable children.  He was past trying to find someone to sire them.  He had no real use for a long-term relationship with someone who would never understand him.  He was confident he could guide and mold them all on his own.

    Getting them had its own set of problems.  He could adopt, but would not do that.  He disliked interacting with society at large.  A society that would not understand him either.  One whose rigid mores might take issue for some of his habits.  The fools did not understand life or death.  Idiots, not realizing that the soil needed blood.  Where did they think their food came from?  Without appeasing the Mutter des Bodens, the Earth would not give up her fruit.  In a way, he was the only thing keeping the planet going.  They should be thanking him.  But, instead, they only greeted him with scorn and violence.  Ingrates.  All the more reason he needed children, someone to pass his knowledge onto.

    It took him another couple of months to find someone suitable.  A couple months lost, but less time than he spent wasting it on finding the right woman.  He was lucky Paradise Valley, a largeish town right on the edge of his forest, had so many children to choose from.  Luckier still was that it had a playground situated adjacent to his forest.  Ordinarily, he disliked having civilization so close to him, but all things had their uses.

    Paradise Valley itself was an ideal community with an ideal population.  There was only a handful of humans.  Kiam did not care for them, even when he was still human himself.  What it did have were many, many sentient animals that blurred the line between ferals and anthros.  Being just on the edge of feral himself, he appreciated that.  It was always fascinating how the Mutter des Bodens raised up intelligent creatures, through her will, natural selection, and natural evolution, throughout all the worlds he inhabited.  He wanted children that were highly intelligent animals.  Ones capable of freely thinking, but that had all the proper animal instincts to make them true heirs of the Mutter des Bodens.  No prey animals.  Nothing exotic.  Nothing with feathers or scales.  He wanted true children of the forest to make his own.

    For two months, he hid in the forest around the playground.  Even though he was a large bear, it was not difficult for him.  With his magic, he could make himself practically invisible when shrouded in the shadows of the trees.  His dark green cloak helped him blend in, as did his rough-spun brown trousers.  Not one for exotic perfumes, he smelled of the woods.  One would really have to know what they were looking for or have an extremely keen sense for detecting magic to find him.  The children and their parents watching them possessed neither.  A good thing, as who would trust someone without children who came to a playground daily, just to watch the kids at play?

    Three children caught his eye within the first month.  They drew his eye because of the way they played.  The three of them eschewed the man-made playground equipment.  No swings or jungle gyms or pointless child¡¯s games.  They ran around the open fields, dug in the dirt, and behaved as rambunctious as any children should.  Siblings, two sisters and a brother, all of them the same age.  They had to be triplets and their father referred to them as such.  They were ten years old; old enough that he would not have to deal with the irritation of raising babies or toddlers, but young enough he could still mold them easily.  He would take them all, of course.  He wanted more than one and it would be cruel to separate them.  They were not entirely perfect, being wolves rather than bears.  However, Kiam was willing to overlook that.  As powerful, dominant species went, wolves were just behind bears in terms of desirability and the ability to dominate lesser creatures.

    The boy was called Xavier.  He had eyes as blue as the sky and fur a brilliant white all over, save for gray fur along his underbelly.  A curious pattern, as one usually saw the reverse in wolves.  Highly energetic, he ran circles around his sisters.  He was a very robust physical specimen.  Whenever he tripped or fell over or collided with something, he bounced back as though he was made of rubber.  The girls seemed to appreciate his strength, already developing nicely despite his youth.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    The quiet, brown-eyed girl was Janet.  Her fur was entirely gray, save for the white fur on the bottom of her muzzle and front of her neck.  Though she was not as vocal as her brother or sister, she did not seem soft or weak.  When they played rough, as wolf pups tended to do, she had no trouble keeping up with her siblings.  Even though she was reserved and demure when speaking, there were moments where she made her voice known.  Sometimes, the three would break into song.  It was there that she really found her voice; singing bright and clear over her siblings.

    The louder girl was Claudia.  Her eyes were blue, her fur also a mix of white and grays.  Hers was almost uniformly white, with gray on her paws and end half of her tail.  She seemed to think of herself as the leader of the trio.  Kiam could not tell if that meant she was slightly older or slightly younger than her siblings.  She seemed to guide their play and they followed her readily.  Highly organized, she seemed to be a natural team captain whenever they played games with other children.  A big personality, but nonetheless endearing, it was easy to see why they listened to her.

    The children were brought here often.  Usually, randomly throughout the week.  Those days changed, but they were here every Saturday.  They arrived at roughly the same time every evening.  Sometimes a male wolf brought them, sometimes a female.  He assumed these were their father and mother.  The father was uniform gray and mother uniform white.  That explained the mix of grays and whites found in their offspring.  They were interesting, but irrelevant.  He had no desire to share his children with their birth parents.  He would have them all to himself, to raise as he saw fit.  He could not abide by anyone who turned them away from his teaching.  Once he selected the triplets, they were already his.  It was just a matter of drawing them away.

    For a natural mage like him, that would be relatively simple.  The easiest route would have been to dominate the will of their lupine parents.  To force himself into their brains, will them to hand over their children, and overwrite any memory they ever had of them.  Unfortunately, this was impossible.  Kiam read their parents with his magical sight and found he would be unable to control their thoughts, as he would have any other feralish forest creature.  When he saw why, it made him angry to the point of feeling ill.  They were followers of the disgraced carpenter executed over two thousand years ago.  This explained why he never saw them on Sundays.  Christians, they called themselves.  Bull-headed and recalcitrant, one could not possess them or control their minds.  He never understood why.  The Mutter des Bodens was silent on the matter when he tried to ask her.  They had to be gullible, so it should have been easy.  But, his power was unable to reach them.  He could not dominate the will of children either, not that he wanted to.  A mindless thrall would be unable to serve as a suitable being to pass his knowledge on to.

    There was another plan he had to fall back on.  He only needed to wait for the right time.  He got his chance one overcast, unseasonably chilly spring day.  The triplets were the only children at the playground.  Their mother was watching them; he never bothered trying to learn her name.  The white wolf laid in the grass near the benches along the periphery of the playground.  Close enough to watch her kids, but far enough away to avoid getting in the way of their play.  No other parents.  No other children.  No other onlookers.  It was the perfect time for him to claim what was rightfully his.

    A couple of weeks ago, he sewed seeds throughout the playground.  Flower seeds, special ones of his own design.  They grew, looking like standard flowers with the blooms closed.  A single stalk, a few leaves at the stem, and a large bud at the top.  All they needed was a little magical prompting to open up.

    He watched the three pups gambol and play in the open field.  Then, he looked at their mother.  She needed to be acted against first.  If she saw something happening to her children, she was sure to act and ruin his plans.  Admirable, in its way, but not something he could tolerate.  Too much of a chance of her seeing him, or running off with the pups before he could claim them.

    A soft, green glow surrounded Kiam¡¯s right paw.  The flowers around the wolf mother straightened up in response.  His magic flowed into them and they swelled, then opened.  Floral buds spread into a collection of brilliant red petals.  They were embellished with golden-yellow swirls stretching inward to the stamens.

    The wolf mother looked down at the flowers blooming all around her.  Curious, but not afraid, she leaned her muzzle down to get a closer look.  They certainly drew the eye and that was exactly what they were designed to do.  Brilliantly colored flowers did not look at all out of place in nature.  Even from the most trained botanist, they would draw more admiration than suspicion.  It was why working with them was so desirable.  Even if he left a few behind, who could be suspicious of a flower?  The wolf looked from flower to flower.  For a moment, she even smiled a little, enjoying their beauty.

    What she did not notice was the pollen exuding continuously from the stigma of each bloom.  They enveloped her in a sweet-smelling cloud.  When something smelled nice, one naturally wanted to smell more of it.  She drew in great breaths.  Soon, her eyelids grew heavy.  Half-lidded eyes, her head drooping, her smile vanished.  She yawned widely, shaking her head and trying to fight the sleep from it.  In the back of her mind, she had to know something suspicious was going on, but it was too late to do anything about it.  The sleep powder from the magically enhanced flowers was in her system and working very well.  She tried to stand, failed, and flopped back on her belly.  Her head tilted down and nestled between her forelegs.  Eyes closed, a deep sleep came over her.  She did not stir, save for the gentle, rhythmic rising and falling of her chest.

    Kiam looked at the pups still at play.  They were so involved in it they failed to realize their mother was fast asleep and no longer watching them.  It was cute to watch.  So much energy.  He almost felt bad about putting them to sleep.  However, they would most certainly misunderstand his intentions.  They might make enough noise to draw in other people, or run away.  He needed them isolated so he could show them just how special they were.

    The green glow around his paw returned.  All around the pups, more flowers bloomed.  When the colors exploded all around them, they stopped.  It was enough to make even the most rambunctious pup stop galivanting around.

    ¡°Whoa¡­.sudden flowers!¡±  Xavier yipped.  He tilted his head and poked his nose against one.  ¡°Never seen any bloom so fast before.¡±

    Claudia tilted her head.  ¡°I haven¡¯t either.  Aren¡¯t they supposed to do that in the morning?  When there¡¯s more sun?¡±

    Janet sniffed at one and poked it with a paw.  ¡°They smell nice.  But it IS weird¡­.¡±

    ¡°Think mom¡¯ll want some?  They¡¯re cool looking.¡±  Xavier put his paws around one to pluck it out of the dirt.

    ¡°They¡¯re pretty.  I think she¡¯d want some.¡±  Janet smiled, though her eyes were half closed.  ¡°What do you think¡­Claudia?¡±  She yawned.

    Claudia opened her muzzle to say something, but her knees buckled and she tumbled to the ground.  She was asleep before her underbelly met the dirt.

    Janet¡¯s ears flicked.  She took an unsteady step toward her sister.  ¡°Claudia?¡±  She mumbled before it was her turn to flop over.

    Xavier shook his head and exhaled.  ¡°This isn¡¯t right¡­..so tired¡­.¡±  He blinked and let out another sharp breath to try and stay awake.  He looked in the direction of his mother with eyes nearly closed.  ¡°Mom¡­.?¡±  Weakly queried before he crashed into the ground, sleeping soundly.

    Satisfied with the results, Kiam emerged from his hiding place.  That worked just as well as he had hoped.  The smaller the body, the more susceptible they were to the charms of his sleep flowers.  This was especially true of those na?ve enough to magic that they had no resistance.  A good thing too.  He was almost worried the boy was going to resist the spell with his sudden realization that something was amiss.  At this point in his life, the bear should know better than to underestimate himself.  He untucked the burlap sack from his satchel.  Time to collect his children and return home.  After a good night¡¯s sleep, they would be more than ready for their first lessons.

 3. Break a Leg, Hero

    David stepped out of the portal and into the alley.  Nathan¡¯s wand of create portal was calibrated to open one far away from any life signatures, but close enough to them that one would not end up opening a portal under a mile of seawater or in the middle of a desert wasteland.  This time, it chose an alley nestled in the downtown area of a sleepy little town that had not seen much activity for at least two decades.

    At least, that¡¯s what David assumed as the portal closed behind him.  Having never been to whatever town this was, or even to this world, he had no real idea.  The town could be quite large, for all he knew.  However, he could not hear a lot of noise.  No sounds of rapidly rushing cars or lots of talking people.  Cloud cover obscured the sky over his head, but it was light enough he could tell it was mid to late afternoon.  The alley smelled like furniture store refuse, broken antiques, spilled cheap wine, and the faint smell of multiple animals.

    Multiple animals, yes.  Nathan gave him a brief briefing over what to expect here.  A world of mixed humans and¡­.well, not anthros.  They were animals, but had the intelligence of humans.  A little strange, but not unknown to him.  He encountered creatures like them before.  Here, apparently, they could drive vehicles and run businesses and were generally treated well.  From what he understood, the number of humans in this world was relatively small.  They kept to their own isolated communities and did not mix very often with the sentient wildlife.  This prospect might be to David¡¯s advantage.  If someone did not have a very well-defined sense of what a human was, they were less likely to think he was unusual.

    Even if not completely unusual here, he would stay out of the way as much as possible.  He typically tried to keep a low profile as it helped him avoid trouble.  He would blend in, only mixing when needed.  He had a few nondescript gold coins he could trade for money in this world.  High profile items to sell, but still less noticeable than stealing for food, not that David would do that anyway.  It helped even more if his target did not know he was here, if the bear was here at all.  While he doubted the bear had enlisted the help of anyone, being more of a solitary mage type, he might have eyes and ears in places.  The impression he got of him from stumbling upon his cabin led him to believe he might be able to ply forest creatures or less scrupulous fae folk to do his bidding.

    The cabin.  David remembered.  It happened years ago.  He was walking through the hundreds of acres of forest between two small towns, Mangrove Falls and Lepley.  Between pursuits, he was hunting.  The deer were in rut with all the carelessness that characterized the mindset, so it would be easy to get fresh meat.  A group of fairies approached him while out and beckoned him to follow.  This happened from time to time and usually led him to something important.  Though he did not speak their language, he knew they had something to say.  They led him to a shack deep inside of the forest, far away from anywhere that anthros hiked, camped, or even traveled through.  The area where the forest was thickest and so far out of the way no one could find it unless they were looking for it.  In David¡¯s experience, this was by design.  People like the bear could make it so anyone walking through the forest would get turned around when approaching their home.  Without even knowing it, the magic would guide them away from it.

    David, being mostly immune to magic, was unaffected.  Added to this, he was being led by creatures that knew the forest well.  Even though he was not looking for the cabin, he would find it.  They parted ways with him as he approached it.  It looked like something out of a fairy tale, ones his adopted mother read to him as a child from time to time.  A rustic cabin made of wood with a shingled roof.  A cobblestone chimney came out of the roof.  It was surrounded by a lush garden with a number of flowers, fruits, and vegetables.  In a way, it was rather beautiful, if he had an eye for such things.

    The inside was far less beautiful.  The smell hit him the moment he approached the door.  Blood.  Entrails.  Fear.  Magical contamination.  It swirled into a reek that filled him with righteous anger.  He took stock of his surroundings, noting the large furniture inside to accommodate a bulky frame, checking for danger, and getting a feel for where the scent came from.  All of this happened in seconds, nearly automatically.  Whoever was in there was big and dangerous.  Time to act.

    After kicking in the door, he rushed toward the source.  He stepped inside, did another threat assessment, and honed in on the smell of blood and depravity.  It led him into the main room of the cabin.  A nice room, laid out like a sitting room with a large, open floor, a few chairs, and an end table or two.  All wooden, all hand carved.  It was the sort of room one would entertain guests.

    That was where he found the first body.  She was laying on the floor, a wolf with fluffy white fur.  She was dressed oddly for someone in the middle of the forest; a black knee length skirt, black suit jacket, and white blouse.  Not a hiker, likely someone just passing through the nearest town on the way to a larger city.  Someone brought her here, that was certain.  Her clothing was torn and stained with blood.  Throat ripped out, abdomen torn open, most of her intestines were missing.  Her eyes were bright blue, open and staring at the ceiling.  Whatever killed her terrified her.  No blood was pooled under the body.  She was not killed in this room.  The body had been moved from elsewhere.

    He continued to explore the cabin.  Another room had a massive bed and a closet full of robes and oversized ballet costumes.  An odd mix, but not much surprised David anymore.  The blood drew most of his attention.  It was splashed all over the dirt floor.  Why the floor in the other room was hardwood but the floor in what was clearly a bedroom was dirt escaped David, but it might have had something to do with the murderer¡¯s powers.  Strange, nonsensical things tended to be.

    The basement held more bodies.  At least a half dozen more bodies.  He followed the scent down to it.  All of them were women.  All of them were torn, maimed, and partially eaten.  He could see the bite marks around the ragged chunks of flesh torn from the bones.  Red muscle and white bone underneath of bloodstained fur.  They were all typical forest creatures, all of which¡¯s feral counterparts were meat eaters.  Their faces were all twisted into looks of horror, mouths open in a last scream as their assailant descended on them.  Who knew how long he played with them until their demise?  Some of the bodies were partially buried in the dirt.  They were not buried on purpose, but seemed to be slowly sinking into the earth.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    By that time, David was eager to spill guilty blood.  His anger burned in him with the intensity of a forest fire.  But, his nose told him the perpetrator was not there.  The scent of the victims was strong, but the bear¡¯s had faded over time.  Yes, a bear.  The musk was unmistakable.  He could smell it as he searched the cabin.  The robes in the closet, hung so neatly, reeked of it.  The entire closet smelled of magical corruption and depravity, especially some of the more ridiculous articles.  The belongings of a sick person who viewed all of those women as toys.

    The presence of bodies, especially the one in the sitting room, suggested he left in a hurry.  He must have noticed the fairies watching him.  They scared him off; at least a week ago judging by the fading scent.  Smart of him, even though he had no way of knowing what was coming for him.  He attempted to find any trace of where he went, some clue.  Nothing indicating any direction or anywhere he could start looking.

    All he found were spell components and strange plants.  Lots of odd flowers, fruits, vines, and desiccated organs and small animals in jars of murky fluid.  He found books and scrolls made of aged parchment bound in foul smelling leather in languages he could not read.  All of that was useless to him.  The only thing even remotely helpful he found was a pile of papers inside of one of the drawers in the bear¡¯s bedroom.  They were a collection of drawings, portraits of the bear most likely drawn by himself.  Despite having the appearance of charcoal and pastels, the marks did not smudge when David passed a finger over them.  It took someone very vain to do their self portraits in enchanted pigments.  He chose the least depraved image of the lot.  It was a picture of a tall bear in a green robe standing in the forest amongst a variety of fruit trees.  He rolled it up and stuck it in his backpack.  This was not a monster he wanted to forget.

    It was lucky he saved it.  He spent several days attempting to track the bear down back then, but came up with nothing.  Now, he had his chance.  David remembered the faces of his victims.  Their faces twisted and eyes staring at the horror closing in on them.  He would bring justice to Kiam.  He had a name to go with the picture in his backpack.  The wanted poster shown to him had an unmistakable likeness to him, as did the listed crimes.  He would find him.  There would be no escape this time.  That familiar sense of justice crept up into him, making his blood burn with thoughts of vengeance.  Time to be a hero.

    ¡°Hey you!  Stop!  Thief!  Thief!¡±  In the distance, David heard shouting.

    He raised an eyebrow.  Someone needed help.  Unrelated victim, unrelated villain, but worth his time.  He looked up at the nearest building.  Three stories tall.  He could climb that easily enough.  With agility uncharacteristic of a man his size, David leapt up the side of the building.  He put his hands wherever he could get a firm grip, mostly window ledges and hanging eaves.  He was on the roof and slinked toward the edge nearest to the source of the screaming.

    Running down the sidewalk was a lynx with mostly typical fur coloration.  He was unusual in that his headfur was colored red.  His only clothing was a red bandana wrapped around his neck.  It took David a moment to realize that he was not really indecent in terms of clothing.  In this world, the ferals were sentient and clothing rules a lot looser.  He had a cash box dangling from his mouth by the handle.  Far behind them, a raccoon darted out of a shop called ¡®Terry¡¯s Harmonica Repair and Musical Sundries¡¯.  The raccoon ran after him, but had no hope of catching up.  The lynx was already far ahead and getting farther away.

    David grunted.  Greedy idiot.  Stealing was wrong.  The police would certainly not get there in time to stop him.  That cash box probably held someone¡¯s livelihood.  The bear could wait for just a moment.  The gray man had more than enough time to stop this.

    He watched the lynx turn down a corner to another street, then another.  David followed along by leaping from roof to roof.  Always stepping lightly, his feet barely made any sound as he crossed the rooftops.  He saw the lynx looking back.  Confident he lost the raccoon, he turned into an alley.  Good.  Somewhere out of the way.

    The lynx set down the cashbox and slipped deeper into the alley.  He opened it briefly, smirked at his ill-gotten loot, and looked back outward to make sure he was not followed.  He paid so close attention to the outside of the alley he did not notice as David jumped down behind him.  He flexed his feet as he landed to soften the sound.  His massive weight only made a pair of soft taps when they hit the pavement.  In the past, someone asked him how he did that.  A few someones.  He never had an answer.  It came naturally to him, just like punishing evil.

    A petty thief, did he deserve death?  No, no, of course not.  But, he needed to be stopped.  This was not the first time he stole, David was sure of it.  The gray man would make sure it was his last.  The lynx did not even know he was there.  His small tail wagged as he glanced again at the cashbox, confident he eluded justice.

    Do not let him see you, David.  Get him.  David lunged.  In a fluid motion, he shot from the shadows like a shark surfacing from placid waters.  He grabbed the lynx by the neck.  All he had time to do was yip and drop the cash box as David hefted him into the air.  He gasped and squirmed for a second or two, eyes and limbs pinwheeling to simultaneously see and fight what caught him.  Only a second or two before David flung him into the pavement.  The lynx¡¯s body made a meaty thwack as it collided with the asphalt so hard that he bounced.  All of the breath left his lungs.  When he tried to breath in, his body spasmed at the unexpected pain.  He gasped like a fish out of water, eyes clenched shut.

    David knew that look.  Multiple broken ribs.  Good.  He was not going anywhere.  But, the ribs would heal.  He had to make sure the lynx would be physically unable to do this again.  He approached the fallen thief.  He watched the big cat¡¯s limbs twitch as he tried to get up.  What David had to do next made perfect sense.  He brought up a foot and slammed it down on his left hind leg.  It landed directly on the knee.  The joint snapped like a twig, leg bowing inward.  David felt the bones give as his heavy blow pulverized it.  Even with surgery, it would never heal properly.  He would limp for the rest of his life.  No more running from those he victimized.

    That woke the lynx up.  He raised his head and let out an ear-piercing yowl that echoed off of the alley walls.  His eyes went wide, but David was standing behind him well enough that he only got a glimpse of him.  It was enough.  The cat tried to turn his head, pupil¡¯s dilating in fear as he saw the big, gray shape that just maimed him.

    Say something so he knows why this happened.  Teach him not to do it again, hero.  ¡°Do not steal.¡±  David growled.  The lynx whimpered.  Good enough.

    David moved back into the shadows, letting them hide him again so he could climb up the wall.  Back to the rooftops.  That scream would bring the cops faster than anything and he did not want to be present for that.  The lynx would not steal again.  At least, not successfully.  He had metal pins and rods holding to hold the knee together to look forward to.  He would limp for the rest of his life.  No more running from those he victimized.

    It felt good to already make a difference in this world, but this was not why David was here.  He had to find the bear.  He had no idea where to start looking, but he would find out.  Find the forests where people are going missing and go from there.

 4. Missing Children

    Diane opened her eyes.  Slowly, she lifted her head and opened her muzzle in a wide yawn.  Blue eyes scanned around the area to try and remember where she was.  The groggy feeling of falling asleep unexpectedly hung over her head.  She stood up and stretched, shaking out her white fur.  It was dark out.  The sky was still overcast, but there was enough light to almost see by.  The moon could vaguely be seen behind the clouds.  During her sleep, it started raining.  Her fur was damp.  She shook again to free the water droplets from her fur.  It was still raining; better get the kids and go home.

    The kids!  Diane¡¯s eyes shot open.  The memories preceding her unnatural slumber came flooding back to her.  Any semblance of grogginess vanished, pushed out by a new sense of dread.  She remembered watching her triplets at play.  Then, a strange, foggy sensation, followed by sleep.

    She ran to the area where she last saw the children playing.  ¡°Kids!  Come here!¡±  She called out to them.  Her gaze swept from one end of the playground to the other.  No sign of them anywhere.  Were they hiding?  ¡°Janet!  Claudia!  Xavier!¡±  A crack in her voice, unable to be hidden.  The drumbeat of her rapid heartrate thudded in her ears.  She was terrified and doing a poor job of hiding it.  ¡°It¡¯s time to come home!  Come out!¡±

    Normally, when her children went out of sight, she was not this scared.  This was not a normal circumstance.  She was asleep for what had to be hours.  During that entire time, she had no one with eyes on them.  How could this happen?  Nothing like it had ever happened to her before.  She was not even tired, but fell asleep so suddenly it was like she had been drugged.  Waking up with no sign of them anywhere was one of the worst outcomes she could think of.  She called for them again and again, moving from one end of the playground to the other.

    No one answered.  The only sounds she heard were those of crickets, raindrops, and cars trundling down the road in the distance.  All of them were indifferent to her missing pups.  They were not hiding in any of the playground equipment.  They were not obscured by a nearby bush.  They were not hiding in the shelter-house or under a picnic table.  They were gone.

    No, no, no¡­. how could this happen?  She never fell asleep like this before.  Even if she had, it was not like the triplets to run off on their own.  Marcus would not have come to get them without telling her.  The pups were so energetic that, if they saw her sleeping, they would have done something to get her attention.  Probably jump on her back or sing her a song about chess.

    The only explanation that fit was they were kidnapped.  Someone took her sweet little pups.  And, with how suddenly she was knocked out, she had to have been drugged.  That made it even worse.  How?  She had not eaten or drank anything suspicious.  No food or drink entered her system for three hours before her unwanted sleep.

    So, what happened?  The last unusual thing she remembered was watching some unusual flowers bloom around her.  That could not have been what knocked her out.  Could it?  She walked back to the wolf shaped indentation in the grass where she was spent an unknown stretch of time sleeping.  A cluster of flowers with brilliant, red and gold petals poked out of the grass nearest to where she lay her head.

    She reached down and batted one with her paw.  Cautiously, as if it was about to go off and force her into a state of slumber once more.  A flower putting her to sleep?  What a ridiculous thought.  Impossible.  Such an idea made no sense at all.  Just the same, she refrained from leaning in to smell it again.  She also made a note of it.  It was such an unusual thing that it could have been a calling card from whoever took her pups.  She was going to get the police involved.  She had to.

    But first, she needed to call Marcus.  A small hope remained that the children were just lost.  She needed to call her husband.  Get him here right now.  This was an emergency and every extra set of eyes would increase the chances of finding her children that much more.  And, if they really were taken, she knew he need her as much as she needed him.

    Ronald was home from college and Marcus could not be happier to see him.  The ruddy squirrel sat at the kitchen table in his old chair that he always sat in whenever the family had dinner together.  He had to have his own chair.  Being much smaller than his lupine parents, his seat needed to be a lot higher off the ground.  Having the adopted kids sit at a separate table would not do at all.

    As Marcus looked him over, he could not help but notice that Ronald looked older than he remembered.  He had only been away for a few months, but that was long enough to let minor changes build upon each other.  Older, sure, but part of Marcus would always see him as his little boy.  When he found him, he was a young, terrified squirrel fleeing from his burnt-out home.  Ronald was only eight back then.  He lost his parents two years earlier.  A forest fire took out the orphanage where he lived, proving that bad things happened in streaks.  The only family he had left was his sister four years his junior.  At first, they were afraid he would eat them, as a more feral wolf was wont to do.  After helping them out of the mud, he offered to take them to a better place.  Although they did not entirely trust him at first, they were hungry and desperate enough to leave them little choice but to go with him.  It helped that he was so willing to help them.

    It did not always work out well to trust complete strangers, even ones that appeared helpful at first.  That was a lesson Ronald learned later.  In this case, it worked out.  Marcus cared for them; made sure they were warm, fed, and sheltered, and acted as a father to them even before he officially adopted them.  He did this partially out of a sense of Christian love, partially out of a desire to start a family of his own, and partially out of guilt.  At the time, he thought he was responsible for the forest fire that not only cost the squirrels and many other forest dwellers their homes, but also cost him Diane, the love of his life.  How happy he was when he found out that she was alive.  How relieved he was when he found out that he was not to blame for the fire.

    The intervening years brought spots of trouble, but they weathered it as a family.  Now, Ronald was a young adult and off on his own.  At least, partially on his own.  In a lot of ways, college was adulthood with training wheels.  Not many things to worry about aside from studying and peer interaction, though that was a pretty big task for someone spending their first stretch of time away from home.  Marcus was proud of him, but he still saw him as a little kid in a lot of ways.  A lot of it had to do with a reluctance to let him go, but there were little things.  Small things the wolf noticed that made him think he still needed his parents.

    Ronald lost weight.  He was always active at home, interested in exercise and resistance training to keep himself spry.  A squirrel too fat to rapidly climb trees was more a guinea pig than a squirrel, and Ronald was far from afraid of heights.  The standard procedure for a college freshman was to gain a few pounds, or ounces in the case of a squirrel.  The fur around Ronald¡¯s muzzle was less full than it was when last Marcus saw him in person.  His entire profile was a lot slimmer.  To Ronald, it probably was so gradual he did not notice, but his father saw it.  The food at the college must not have been less than great.  Bulk, mass produced foodstuffs that emphasized quantity over quality.  Late teenagers with active metabolisms and endless appetites enjoyed such things, but Ronald always was a healthy eater.  He might have to check out his residence hall¡¯s cafeteria salad bar next time he was up there.  If it emphasized pasta and mayonnaise-based salads over fresh greens and fruit, it would be time to say something.

    Adding to the food problem, the desserts had to be subpar.  Ronald was on his second slice of homemade blueberry pie.  No ice cream with it, just pie, a sure sign he missed home-baked treats with fresh ingredients.  Marcus remembered his time in school.  Lots of frozen ice cream novelties, prepackaged pastries baked several months ago, and pudding that came in 64-ounce cans.  A few treats made with love would do the boy some good.

    Ronald¡¯s tail was slightly mussed, as was the rest of his fur.  Diligent brushing to keep it tamed was not happening.  Marcus could respect that, to a degree.  It meant that he was throwing all of his energy into his studies.  Biology in all of its flavors took a lot of diligence to grasp, especially when one got to the portions that involved organic chemistry.  Unkempt fur might have been a sign that the student, free from their parents, spent their spare time reveling with other students that went to college to major in binge drinking, but Marcus knew better.  He saw Ronald¡¯s grades.  He was doing too well to waste his time wasting his life.  Plus, people who did that have a smell to them.  Alcohol, especially when consumed in a bar, had a smell that clung to the fur, and Marcus had an excellent nose.  Other drugs smelled even worse.  Nothing could hide the smell from a concerned, lupine parent.

    They made small talk throughout dinner.  Mostly, it centered around his experiences at the Pratley College of the Sciences.  How he was doing, how their football team was this year, and how he liked living in another town.  The town was also named Pratley, continuing the convention of colleges being named after the town they occupied.

    After dessert, Diane took the triplets to the park and, with some prompting, Cecilia went off to practice drawing.  This gave Marcus a chance to chat with Ronald on his own.  With him home for spring break, he would have plenty of time to spend with the rest of the family.  Early in the visit was the best time to talk to him man-to-man.  Two hours flew by reminiscing about old times.  About where Ronald came from, how he grew up, his challenges and triumphs.  For only existing for eighteen years, he had already seen much.  The stories were enough to prompt him to have a second piece of pie, which Marcus was happy to provide.  Him being there was the main reason Diane baked it.

    ¡°Good pie?¡±  Marcus asked.  Ronald, his mouth full, simply nodded.  A little whipped cream was on his whiskers, but Marcus decided not to draw attention to it.  ¡°Make sure you thank your mother when she gets home.¡±

    Ronald swallowed.  ¡°Yeah, I will.¡±  He took another bite.  He talked between chews.  ¡°It¡¯s really good.¡±

    Marcus chuckled.  ¡°So it seems.  Good as it is, don¡¯t talk with your mouth full.¡±

    Ronald¡¯s ears folded back.  He swallowed.  ¡°Heh, sorry.  I haven¡¯t had pie this good in a while.  I think they make the pie crust at Grover Hall with sawdust and thicken the pudding with pinecones.¡±

    ¡°If it¡¯s anything like what cafeterias served when I was in school, I wouldn¡¯t be surprised.¡±  How long ago was Marcus in school?  It seemed like just yesterday, but now he had a college aged child himself.  Quick, say something to not feel old.  ¡°We used to say they bought the salmon Friendly Fred¡¯s rejected.  Smelled like it too.¡±

    Ronald made a face and stuck out his tongue.  ¡°Ugh¡­.dad!  I¡¯m eating!  Stomach hurt for a week last time I ate there.¡±  Memories of Friendly Fred¡¯s Fish Frenzy stuck in the mind of anyone who ever ate there.  The big, yellow and blue signs were all over the place, all the same.  It was popular despite only being food in a vague, abstract sense.  Quick, cheap, greasy, and loaded with enough salt and additives to make it tasty and easy to eat.  Marcus was not sure why they were so popular, but it was probably a sing that society was in decline.

    ¡°That¡¯s probably how long it took you to digest it.¡±

    ¡°Only go there when I have to.  All I can have off their menu is the coleslaw and kelp nuggets.  Even that tastes like fish cooked in a dirty dishwasher.¡±

    ¡°Why would you have to?¡±  Marcus asked.  He agreed with his second sentiment.  All of Friendly Fred¡¯s food tasted vaguely dirty.

    ¡°My roommate loves the place.  We go there with some of his friends sometimes.  Usually on Sunday evening when the cafeteria¡¯s closed.¡±  Ronald¡¯s tail flicked.  ¡°When it¡¯s his turn to pick, that¡¯s where we always go.¡±

    ¡°Taste is a very personal thing.¡±  Marcus chuckled.  ¡°But, that might make me question his sense of taste.¡±

    ¡°He says he likes it ironically.  I¡¯m not sure that means what he thinks it does, but that¡¯s what he says.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nice of you to go there anyway.  Sometimes you have to do things with your friends you might not want to do.  As long as it isn¡¯t sinful, it¡¯s fine.  Doesn¡¯t mean it¡¯s pleasant.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±  Ronald replied simply.  He was not looking at Marcus.  Something else was going on, but he was going to have to push to get him to say it.

    He let the silence hang in the air for a half minute, just to see if Ronald was going to say anything else.  When he did not, Marcus continued.  ¡°Are you getting along well with the kids at school?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re not kids anymore.¡±  Ronald replied in a mildly sour tone.

    ¡°When you get my age, everyone in school is a kid.  Didn¡¯t mean anything by it.¡±  Marcus tried to smooth over his son¡¯s ego.  He forgot that teenagers hated being called kids.  It usually took until they were in their mid-twenties before they started realizing that they were getting older and still being thought of as young was a compliment.  ¡°Your mother and I are proud of you, being on your own in a new city and all.  You settled in very well.  But, you didn¡¯t answer my question.¡±

    Ronald¡¯s ears lowered.  He had the look of a teenager that tried to evade a question, but failed and no amount of redirection would get him out of it.  ¡°Yes.  I am.  With no problems at all.¡±

    ¡°You just said you don¡¯t like going where they go sometimes.  You hinted that your roommate said weird things.  There¡¯s more to this.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s nothing, dad.  Just stuff.  I¡¯m doing just fine and don¡¯t need you worrying about me getting ¡®worldly¡¯ habits or falling away from the faith or anything.  So please stop asking.¡±

    Marcus did not mention either of those things, but he really was worried about it.  Every church was replete with stories of members sending their kids off to school and them coming back indoctrinated slaves to the spirit of the age.  They went off on their own and listened to what the world said, what the world wanted them to be.  The religion of the world was selfish materialism, one that rejected any concept of truth.  It taught that one makes their own truth, provided it lined up with the current popular trends in culture.  A rigid hierarchy of identity groups, with those who rejected the Bible the hardest at the top.  This was evident in the university system more than anywhere else.  The unofficial position of academia was so universal and ingrained in the culture that it might as well be codified as their official position.  The professors were always eager to push their godless view on their students.  Those raised by Christian parents carried a particularly large target on their backs.  There was no room for dissent in the classroom.  You either agreed with your professor, were silent, or you ran the risk of receiving a failing grade.  Other students were rarely helpful in resisting the culture.  They were out on their own for the first time as well, and most were very excited to experience all the pleasures the world had to offer.  Being away from their families, sometimes separated by hundreds of miles, they had free reign to let loose and explore everything the world told them they should explore.

    Naturally, Marcus was going to keep pushing.  ¡°I didn¡¯t mention your faith at all.  And you haven¡¯t said much about anyone else at school.¡±  Ronald winced.  ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯ve ever given any of them names.  What are they like?¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re¡­..¡±  Ronald put his fork down next to the half-eaten slice of pie.  He said nothing else until the silence grew uncomfortable.  Then, Marcus had to talk.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    ¡°I think I understand.  You feel different.  You don¡¯t think you fit in, but you want to.  But, they do things that make you uncomfortable.  Is that right?¡±

    ¡°No!¡±  Ronald, channeling every 18 year old who was ever confronted by his parents with exactly what he was feeling, answered quickly.  ¡°¡­..maybe a little.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s normal.  Pratley¡¯s a very different town than Paradise Valley.  The college gets people from all over the country, so this is a good opportunity to see how a lot of other people think.¡±  Marcus liked to think he did a pretty good job of socializing Ronald.  The young squirrel did not need much prompting.  He was outgoing enough to talk to many people.  That he was acting like this when asked about others seemed strange.  ¡°Something tells me there¡¯s more to it than that.¡±

    Ronald sighed.  He pushed his plate away.  The shifting in his seat indicated he was considering leaving the table.  He straightened up, opened his mouth to speak, but then settled back down.  No getting out of this.  ¡°My roommate isn¡¯t like the other guys at church.  He¡¯s an otter named Chrysanthemum.  I don¡¯t get him most of the time.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±  Marcus got comfortable and focused.  There was a lot of stuff he needed to pay attention to.

    ¡°He¡¯s all over the place.  Sometimes he¡¯s really friendly and sometimes it seems like he¡¯s mad at me.  Like, the other day in the morning he got mad at me for eating cereal too loud.¡±

    ¡°Were you?¡±  Marcus asked.  Squirrels were not always aware when they were chewing loudly.  It was not exactly something they could help, with the large front teeth.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t think so.¡±  Ronald scratched the back of his head.  ¡°I mean¡­.I told him I was sorry¡­.after I told him to stop leaving blue dye residue in the sink.  He dyes his tail blue.¡±

    ¡°Did you tell him nicely?¡±

    ¡°¡­.mostly, I did, yeah.¡±  Ronald withered a bit under the critical look Marcus gave him.  ¡°I mean, I could have been nicer, but he gets me so mad sometimes.  I feel like he picks at me on purpose.  It was Sunday and before church, so I had to go anyway.  I¡­..might have stormed out of the room.¡±

    Marcus smiled.  ¡°Think I understand why you did that, but you could have handled it better.¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­¡±  Ronald nodded.  ¡°Felt pretty bad about it later.  A few hours after church, I finally went back and was ready to apologize.  Correct him with love and stuff like we¡¯re supposed to do as believers.  When I got in, though, he said he was sorry first.  He was actually nice to me the rest of the night.  Even decided to go to my favorite restaurant when we met up with his friends, even though it was his turn to pick.¡±

    ¡°He sounds hard to be around.¡±  Marcus knew the type.  From what he heard, the otter¡¯s default was hostile, but he tried to be nice when it suited him.  He might just be trying hard to be a better person, but he might also want something.  ¡°Has he ever said why he¡¯s like that?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±  Ronald tilted his head.  ¡°Well, kind of.  He wants to be my friend, and, uh¡­.¡±

    ¡°And what?¡±

    Ronald¡¯s tail flicked back and forth.  Tiny thumps softly echoed off the table, timed to him drumming his fingers across it.  ¡°Well, he¡¯s always saying I¡¯m too ¡®indoctrinated¡¯.  He wants me to loosen up and have fun.¡±

    There was the problem.  The world had a way of sneaking into someone¡¯s life in very subtle ways.  In this case, it was in an overt way.  The world practically barged into Ronald¡¯s life banging pots and pans together and screaming about how great and fun it was.  The wolf had to chuckle.  ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m not laughing at you.  I just didn¡¯t expect it to be this obvious.¡±  Marcus leaned back in his chair.  ¡°Be honest.  Do you think he¡¯s right?  I won¡¯t get mad if you say ¡®yes¡¯.¡±

    Ronald quickly shook his head.  ¡°No, no!  Not at all.  He¡¯s not right.  The guy gets mad at everything and constantly complains about everyone he meets and every professor he has.  If that¡¯s what he¡¯s selling, I don¡¯t want it.  It sucks to be miserable all the time.  He gets real bad when he¡¯s hung over and it¡¯s weird to see him stagger into the room in the middle of the night and pass out wherever he lands.¡±

    ¡°I thought Pratley was a dry campus.¡±  Marcus raised an eyebrow.  Then he remembered what college was like.  College combined with animal nature in a variety of interesting ways.  If someone wanted something badly enough, regardless of whether it was allowed, they could get it.  ¡°Nevermind.  Forgot what college was like.¡±

    ¡°I used to think you were exaggerating about that stuff.  Just worried dad stuff.¡±  Ronald wore a sheepish smile.  ¡°It¡¯s just like you and the old guys at church said.¡±

    Marcus nodded.  ¡°Just try and stay away from that stuff.  I know you¡¯re at the age where it¡¯s looking tempting, but there are few things that will ruin your life faster.¡±

    Ronald sighed.  ¡°I will, dad.  You don¡¯t have to tell me that every time I¡¯m here.  I can see it for myself.¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t help it.  It¡¯s what fathers do.¡±  Marcus tried not to chuckle.  Ronald did not understand a father worrying about these things.  It was good that he did not, still being a young squirrel.  Concern about a family of his own could wait until after college.  While he was looking forward to grandchildren someday, he was in no hurry to get there.

    Focus back on the now.  Ronald said some concerning things.  ¡°Maybe this is an opportunity to share the gospel?¡±  Marcus started.  ¡°Sounds like Chrysanthemum could use it.  Have you tried inviting him to church?¡±

    ¡°He wasn¡¯t interested.¡±  Ronald rubbed the back of his head.  ¡°I asked his friends, but one of them told me to stop acting like a ¡®fundie retard¡¯.  If I bring it up again, they just make fun of me.  I hate it when they do that.  Makes me so mad.¡±

    Marcus shook his head.  He should have expected as much.  More and more, the world was hostile toward the gospel.  Even the kids were taught to hate it.  A child did not get this hostile to it without pressure from the broken people running the schools and popular culture.  ¡°I¡¯m sorry you have to run into that.  It seems like that¡¯s the rule instead of the exception these days.  Those kinds of people are hard to be around.¡±

    ¡°I feel bad for them.  They¡¯re lost and miserable and don¡¯t even know it.¡±

    ¡°It sounds like you¡¯re miserable when you¡¯re with them.¡±  Ronald nodded, but Marcus kept talking.  ¡°Why do things with them if you are?¡±

    Ronald broke eye contact and looked away, the hallmark look of an embarrassed teen.  ¡°Well¡­it¡¯s easy.  Our, uh, schedules match up pretty well, so they¡¯re people to hang out with.  And it¡¯s fun playing video games with them.  They have a lot of the ones I missed growing up.¡±  Ronald¡¯s ear flicked.  ¡°Uh, not that there¡¯s anything bad about that.¡±

    Marcus decided to ignore the comment about video games.  Some of the themes in popular games are not appropriate for Christians regardless of age.  But, this was not the right time.  ¡°There have to be other students that go to church.  The campus fellowship center is thriving, so you can find people to hang out with that won¡¯t make fun of you for being Christian.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve tried a little bit, but most of the guys who go there are in different programs.  Our schedules don¡¯t line up.¡±

    ¡°All of them?¡±

    ¡°Uh, the ones I¡¯ve asked.¡±  Ronald shrugged.  ¡°I mean¡­I could ask some more people, I guess¡­..¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s a good idea.  It¡¯s important to have friends who build you up, not ones who tear you down.¡±

    Ronald nodded.  ¡°That¡¯s why I keep doing stuff with those guys.  This might be a good opportunity.  I mean, they hate the gospel now, but maybe if I keep presenting it to them, they¡¯ll get it.¡±

    ¡°Didn¡¯t you just say you were miserable around them?¡±  Marcus found his son¡¯s actions somewhat admirable, but only to a point.  Looking at him now, it seemed more like they were wearing him down than he was wearing them down.

    ¡°I can deal with it.¡±  Ronald smiled, but it looked forced.  It was the same smile he had during his middle school pictures.

    Marcus shook his head.  ¡°Your heart¡¯s in the right place.  That you tried is admirable, but they aren¡¯t ready for it.  They don¡¯t want the message, so it¡¯s time to move on.¡±

    ¡°What?  You mean I should just give up?  That doesn¡¯t sound very Christian.¡±  Ronald crossed his arms.

    ¡°Not give up, just move on.  You remember Matthew 10:14, right?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡±  Ronald¡¯s ears lowered.  ¡°You might have to remind me.¡±

    ¡°And whosoever shall not receive you, nor hear your words, when ye depart out of that house or city, shake off the dust of your feet.¡±  It was a passage Marcus memorized and one he worked on with Ronald.  ¡°Basically, you gave them the message.  Gave it to them many times, from what I understand.  But, they didn¡¯t receive it, so it¡¯s time for you to find other ears that might hear it.¡±

    ¡°But, they¡¯re unsaved!¡±  Ronald leaned up on the table, planting his paws firmly on it.  ¡°I mean, they don¡¯t even know what¡¯s waiting for them in eternity unless they turn to Christ!  They¡¯re not bad guys.  I want them to be saved so they can spend eternity in God¡¯s kingdom!  It¡¯s like they don¡¯t even care.¡±  He slumped back in his chair.  ¡°I can¡¯t just give up on them.¡±

    At least his heart was in the right place.  Time to present his son with an uncomfortable truth.  It was one any evangelical hated to acknowledge, but that was the nature of the world.  ¡°It¡¯s not up to us who will and will not accept the message.  All we can do is present it, but you can¡¯t force people to accept Christ.  It isn¡¯t your fault if they reject it.  They make that decision.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to give up on them.  Don¡¯t they know what happens if you die in your sins?  Unrepentant?¡±

    ¡°To most, bad things are what happen to other people.¡±  Marcus explained.  ¡°They have the word.  It¡¯s pretty hard to escape it completely, and the law of God is written into the heart of every man.  When they reject God, it¡¯s not because there isn¡¯t enough evidence.  It sounds like they reject Him because they don¡¯t want to believe in Him.¡±

    ¡°I still don¡¯t understand that.  If you¡¯re falling from an airplane, you can¡¯t just will yourself to fly and expect to be okay.¡±

    ¡°And they don¡¯t think that will happen to them.  They just want to do whatever they want all the time.¡±  Marcus chuckled.  ¡°That might even be why they¡¯re in college.  Get the college experience, then go on to make enough money to do whatever they want all the time on a larger scale.¡±  Marcus leaned in.  ¡°Do they try to encourage you to do whatever you feel like?  Or what feels good?¡±

    Ronald winced.  Even if he would have said no, that action indicated he could think of an example right off the top of his head.  Memories had a way of hitting you like a club sometimes.  ¡°Yes¡­.¡±  Thankfully, the squirrel did not lie.

    Marcus nodded.  ¡°That¡¯s not uncommon.  A lot of people would rather ignore God so they can sin, or create their own god that¡¯s okay with their sin.  Because of the nature of our flesh, sin feels good.  There¡¯s no way around it.  There are people out there that, even though they know the truth in their hearts, they still reject it because they want to live life on their terms.¡±

    ¡°¡­.are you saying I should give up?  Start ignoring them?  What?¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t have to ignore them or be mean to them or anything.¡±  Marcus smiled.  ¡°You should keep being polite whenever possible.  But, you don¡¯t have to spend time with them.  If they want to come to church with you, fine, but if they want to bring you along to dinner or to play video games or whatever you should decline.¡±

    ¡°We have to live with the world, though.  I can¡¯t just ignore it.  I can be a good example to them.  We have fun, most of the time.  It¡¯d be weird to just cut them off.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t seem like they¡¯re interested.  People like that aren¡¯t.¡±  Marcus shifted in his seat and leaned forward on the table.  He hated sharing uncomfortable truths at the best of times.  They were, well, uncomfortable.  Ronald was growing up, so it was time to lay it down.  The wolf almost regretted not doing this earlier, if only for the fact that he would not have to do it now.

    ¡°They are the kind of people who deliberately want to pull you away from God.  From what you¡¯ve told me, that sounds like their goal.  Through shaming, ridicule, and calling you names, they want to turn you away from God¡¯s word to theirs.¡±

    Ronald¡¯s ear flicked as he thought that over for a few seconds.  Finally, he asked ¡°But, why would they want to do that?  They¡¯re the ones always going on and on about diversity.¡±

    ¡°Ronald, there are people in this world who hate us for what we believe.  It¡¯s been that way ever since the early days of Christianity, since Jesus died for our sins.  John 15:18-19, ¡®If the world hate you, ye know that it hated me before it hated you.  If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you.¡¯  I can¡¯t explain why they do it very well.  They have their own reasons, but it all comes down to spiritual sickness.¡±

    ¡°I just want to help them so bad.¡±  Ronald shook his head.  ¡°I mean, if they¡¯re sick, they need a doctor.  What use do the healthy have for a physician and all that, right?¡±  The squirrel was paraphrasing, but Marcus got the gist of what he was saying.

    He was not wrong, not entirely.  Marcus, however, had been around a lot longer than he had.  Part of being spiritually mature is realizing when to walk away.  ¡°They don¡¯t even accept that they¡¯re sick.  They reject the very idea of it.  So, they reject the gospel.  What¡¯s worse is they want you to reject it too.  They¡¯ll accuse you of trying to force your ideals on them while trying to force theirs on you.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­kind of what we do though, right?  I mean, isn¡¯t that part of spreading the gospel?¡±  Ronald asked.

    Marcus shook his head.  ¡°It may seem that way, but we spread the message out of love.  We want to build them up.  God¡¯s word is edifying.  History is replete with examples of people who changed for the better once saved.  What they¡¯re trying to do is break you down.  Their attitudes and ridicule show that.  You can¡¯t say you like them tearing at you all the time.¡±

    ¡°It doesn¡¯t bother me, I know they¡¯re friendly underneath it all.¡±  Ronald said and Marcus almost believed him.  ¡°And they won¡¯t succeed.¡±

    ¡°It still affects you.  Even if it doesn¡¯t hurt, it can make you question your ability to evangelize.  They¡¯re just not interested in it.  They don¡¯t want you to be you.  They don¡¯t even like who you are.  They are trying to remake you in their image.  Some blue tailed, worldly kid who drinks heavily, hates his parents, and says things like ¡®Oh, did God really say that?  And which God are you talking about?¡¯  That is who they are.¡±

    Ronald made a face like he ate a spoonful of roofing tar.  A spoonful of ice-cold roofing tar.  ¡°I don¡¯t like that mental image, dad.  Thanks a lot.¡±

    Marcus chuckled.  ¡°It¡¯s true.  A pagan considers it a badge of honor to break Christians down.  That¡¯s especially true of Christian kids.  They want to make you worship their gods and are not shy about it.  Just be glad that they can¡¯t do it by force anymore.  It wasn¡¯t always that way.  It¡¯s best just to give them the message and, if they are not receptive, move on.  One sows, another reaps, God provides the increase.¡±

    Ronald was silent again.  One could almost hear the gears of consideration turning in his head.  ¡°Guess I should find some guys at church, huh.¡±

    ¡°That would be best.¡±  Marcus¡¯ phone, sitting on the kitchen counter, vibrated and played Beethoven¡¯s ¡®Fur Elise¡¯.  That was Diane¡¯s ring.  Marcus¡¯ heart skipped a beat and his limbs went cold.  If everything was all right, she would be home.  If she was calling, everything was not all right.

    ¡°Just a minute.¡±  The conversation was not over yet, but it could wait.  Marcus¡¯ gut felt like a freezing cold, lead weight sat in his stomach.  He tried to tell himself that everything was probably fine.  Reassuring excuses for why she was calling went through his head.  She might be calling to tell him they lost track of time and would be home late, so don¡¯t worry.  Might be asking if she could get the triplets some ice cream on the way home and if he wanted some too.  She might be calling him to tell him the triplets did something adorable and she was just dying to tell him about it.

    The feeling of wrongness did not abate as he swiped his finger across the screen.  ¡°Diane, is everything all right?¡±  He had a greeting in his head.  What came out of his mouth was different.  A question came out without him putting any conscious thought into it.  Born of a sense that something was wrong, it flowed easily.

    ¡°They¡¯re gone!  They¡¯re all gone!  Someone took them!¡±  Diane¡¯s tone made Marcus feel like a weight crushed his chest.  Uncharacteristically hysterical, it was the voice of a mother panicked over the loss of something very dear to her.

    The world stopped for just a moment.  Everything around Marcus could have vanished for all of the focus that he had on the dire news.  ¡°Who¡¯s gone?  What do you mean?¡±  Marcus¡¯ voice shook at the question.  He already knew what she was talking about.  Asking the question was unnecessary.  But, knowledge that one did not want rarely registered when given for the first time.  The emotional parts of the wolf¡¯s brain refused to acknowledge it.

    ¡°Someone took the triplets!  I¡­I didn¡¯t mean to lose them.  It was¡­I don¡¯t even know what happened!  I¡­I can¡¯t find them anywhere!¡±  Diane had been crying.  Marcus knew that quavering quality in her voice.  She spoke between sobs.

    ¡°Where are you?¡±

    ¡°Mercer Park.  Marcus, please, you¡­.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll find them.¡±  Marcus hated interrupting his wife, but this was not a conversation to have over the phone.  The shock to his system from hearing the news burned away.  He was still scared, terrified in fact.  Fear was not something that could paralyze someone like Marcus.  Instead, it gave him a sense of purpose.  Time to move.  ¡°Stay there.  I¡¯ll arrive as soon as I can.¡±  Marcus paused, then added.  ¡°It¡¯s going to be okay.  I love you.¡±  Before hanging up.

    Ronald stared wide eyed at his father.  Tail twitching, the wolf could tell he was nervous.  ¡°Dad, what was that about?¡±

    ¡°Get your sister, then head to the garage.  We¡¯re going.¡±

    ¡°Wait, dad¡­!¡±

    ¡°Now!  I¡¯ll explain on the way!¡±  Marcus barked.  Ronald, startled, scurried off.  No time to feel bad.  When children were in danger, politeness was sometimes an unaffordable luxury.  They could sort that out later.  Right now, he needed everyone.

    For two hours, the family searched.  In the rain and the night time chill, they scoured the playground and the entire area around it.  The rain washed away any scent of Claudia, Janet, and Xavier.  The darkness hid the tracks of whoever took them.  They could not track them, the only thing they gained from it was a sense of frustration.  With the children truly being counted as missing, they knew they had to get the police involved.  They prayed together, the remnant of their happy family, then called the police.

    While waiting for them to arrive, they prayed again.  When you¡¯ve exhausted all worldly methods, the only thing left to do was turn to God.  Turning to the most powerful being in the universe sometimes felt like an afterthought, but it was all they had in that moment.  In the backs of all of their minds, floating like a specter, remained one uneasy thought.  They had been through so much as a family already.  Why was this allowed to happen now?  In the moment, they had no good answer.  All they had was faith that things would be okay.

 5. New Surroundings

    Of the triplets, Xavier was the first to wake.  It did not happen all at once.  His hind legs shifted a few times, shaking off the remnants of a far from pleasant dream.  No one ever really got used to the artificial sleep brought on by magic.  Being a child and the first time it happened made for a restless night full of troubling dreams.  While he would never fully remember them, he would have fragments.  Dreams of being drug away from his family by monsters, their grasping shapes incomprehensible from the darkness hiding them.  He was too old to believe in monsters, of course, but that did not mean that they did not show up in his dreams.

    He gathered his legs underneath of him as he rolled onto his feet.  The light streaming in through the window was so bright it caused him to firmly shut his half-opened eyes.  It was too early and he was still too tired to deal with the sun¡¯s full-strength shower of photons.  He leaned his head down and rubbed his face against his paws to work some of the sleep out of his facial muscles.  ¡®Rough¡¯ was the best way to describe how he felt.  Heaviness hung over his entire body like a weighted blanket.  Limbs, head, even his stomach felt too heavy.  He felt like he did whenever mom sent him to bed, but he decided to spend a couple of hours reading adventure books by flashlight instead of going to sleep.

    Time to make another attempt at opening his eyes.  First, they opened just enough that only a slit of light reached the underlying eye.  When that was tolerable, he opened them a little more.  Then a little more.  The light was far less punishing at this point.  He stood up and shook out his fur.  Wolves liked giving themselves a good shake when they first woke up.  With a yawn and a series of blinks, he looked around the room.

    His head felt like it was full of fog.  A groggy, disconnected sensation wavered throughout his brain.  The room around him was nice enough, if unfamiliar.  The sunlight came in through a quartet of windows; two on the walls to his left and two on the walls to his right.  They were cottage windows; a square with a wooden frame, a wooden crossbeam, and four smaller squares of glass.  Wood paneling lined the walls.  Natural wood paneling with all the knots and flaws that came from something that was not mass produced in a lumber mill or factory.  Three paintings hung on the walls.  They depicted¡­.animals or something, but Xavier was too logy to grasp their details at the moment.

    He was able to notice that he and his two sisters were on a bed.  The bed was large enough to accommodate all of them.  Maybe a little too large.  The dimensions of it suggested it was made for something larger than three ten-year-old wolves.  He bounced on his paws to feel the slightly soft, slightly springy give of the mattress.  It lacked the bounce of any other he had ever been on.  It felt more like a thick mass of layered cloth.  He could have gotten a closer look, but a green and brown quilt covered the entire thing.  Rough fabric squares in a random pattern of earth tones and greens stitched together.  The fabric squares were different sizes and made of different fabrics, suggesting it was sewn from old scraps with patient hands.  A wooden headboard and footboard flanked the mattress and kept it set on a heavy frame, again indicating the bed was made for something heavier than three wolves.  Engraved into the headboard was a carving depicting some trees that looked vaguely humanoid.  Looking at it gave Xavier a vague sense of unease, so he turned his attention to the footboard.  Functional and plain, it was a nice change; just two posts and a smooth board to keep someone from sliding off the foot of the bed if they were having a particularly restless dream and were a lot taller than a ten-year-old, quadrupedal wolf.

    His foot paws carried him to the edge of the bed.  The steps were heavy and somewhat unsteady; the same steps as someone who just woke up from a long, but not particularly restful, sleep.  Smoothed hardwood covered the floor.  It was sanded down to be easy on the feet without wearing shoes.  A dresser was next to an open door leading into a closet.  The closet was empty and the drawers on the dresser were all shut.  It was either made of very dark, shiny wood or had been lacquered to look like it.  Next to it was a smaller chest with a flip top lid.  This was painted brown with dark green trim.  Painted on the side were images of bears, wolves, mountain lions, and even foxes chasing what appeared to be deer, field mice, squirrels, and rabbits through a dense forest.  They were playing, all of them looking like they were smiling.  Sitting next to it was a plant in a heavy pot made of baked clay.  The plant was about a foot tall with spade shaped leaves and a lot of closed buds.  Rounding off the furniture was a massive wooden chair in the corner.

    What a strange room.  Xavier blinked and looked around to try and figure out where he was and why he was there.  Was it a hotel room?  Were they on vacation?  None of his friends or relatives had rooms like this, unless he was missing something.  The room even smelled weird.  It was a mixture of dirt and musk and flowers and some other things he could not name.  Everything pointed to a setting that was made to be comfortable, but the furnishings and decorations gave him an uncanny sensation.  A veneer of normalcy over something very wrong.  How did he get here?

    Xavier¡¯s entire body went rigid, as if he was swimming in a lake and felt something brush against his leg.  How did he get here?!  The wall of sleep covering the memories of what happened leading up to this moment fell away.  The last thing he remembered was playing in a field with his sisters.  Then he saw some flowers.  After that, he felt so tired he could not keep his eyes open.  Then nothing.  Something knocked him out.  What could have knocked him out?  He did not smell anything weird.  No strange gasses or getting a whack to the head like in the cartoons.  But, something had to have happened or he would not have lost consciousness.

    He darted from one side of the bed to the other, eyes frantically scanning the entire area for any sign of his parents.  If something happened, his mother would have seen it, right?  She had to have been the one that carried him and his sisters to this room, which had to be safe.  Where was she?  Normally, waking up in a strange place was nothing to worry about.  There was nothing normal about the circumstances surrounding his falling asleep nor his waking up.  The lack of clarity surrounding it brought to the surface all manner of childhood fears.  The oppressive, alien nature of this room did not help.

    ¡°Mom?  Hello!  Are you here?¡±  He called out.  Darting to the other side of the bed, he yelled again.  ¡°Mom?  Dad?  Are you awake?¡±

    No answer.  A very lonely sensation hit Xavier.  This was not right, none of it was.  He almost made a run for the door, but remembered his sisters were there too.  He looked back at them.  Both of them were curled up, sleeping away.  It was almost a shame to wake them up.  Not enough of a shame, though.  They needed to know what was going on.  The first one to wake up had to be Claudia.  She was so organized she might have a better idea of where to find their parents.

    Xavier was many things.  A master of subtlety was not one of them.  He gently woke her up by leaning his head down, rearing back, and giving her a lupine headbutt in the ribs.  ¡°Claudia!  Wake up!¡±  He yelled.

    The impact nearly rolled Claudia on her side; Xavier may have been a bit overzealous.  It had the desired effect.  Her eyes shot open.  She recovered mid-roll, flipped on her paws, and stood up, letting out a confused half bark, half grunt.  Once she realized she was not under attack, the glare she gave her brother could have ignited paper.  ¡°What are you doing?  Mom said you weren¡¯t supposed to wake people up like that!¡±

    ¡°Mom¡¯s not around.¡±  Xavier glanced around the room again, then looked back at Claudia.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean¡­..¡±  Claudia¡¯s words trailed off.  The look on Xavier¡¯s face was not coy or trying to be too clever.  Wide eyes, twitching muzzle, and flaring nostrils to try to catch the scent of something missing were all signs he was worried.  She took a moment to absorb her surroundings and came to the same conclusion as Xavier.  ¡°Where are we?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±  Xavier sat down.  That was enough running around on top of the bed for the moment.  ¡°I hoped you knew.¡±

    ¡°Well, I¡­.¡±  Claudia trailed off.  She titled her head, looked behind her, in front of her, every which way she could.  On her feet, she started walking the perimeter of the bed.  Xavier kept quiet.  She was in analysis mode, so he knew better than to interrupt.

    No more than two minutes later, she walked back up to Xavier and sat down.  ¡°I don¡¯t know where we are.¡±

    Xavier tried very hard not to roll his eyes at his sister coming to the exact conclusion he reached minutes ago.  ¡°Do you remember how we got here?¡±

    Another short stack of thick thought on Claudia¡¯s part, followed by a frown.  ¡°No¡­all I remember are some weird flowers, then sleeping.  Then you headbutting me.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this.  Something bad happened.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±  Claudia looked at the headboard of the bed, tilted her head, and looked away.  The carving was not to her liking, making her just as uncomfortable as Xavier.  Something occurred to her and her ears perked.  ¡°Might have been an accident or something.  Are you hurt?¡±

    The thought of being injured did not occur to Xavier at all.  Being a young boy, the perception of invulnerability was strongly ingrained into his personality.  He bent his knees a few times, sprang back and forth, craned his head to look at his body, all the things a wolf did to make sure they were whole.  No cuts, scrapes, bruises, or missing limbs.  ¡°I don¡¯t hurt anywhere.  Do I look okay?¡±

    Claudia nodded.  ¡°Do I?¡±

    Xavier gave her a once-over.  She too was bereft of any signs of injury.  He shook his head.

    ¡°What about Janet?¡±  Claudia asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±  Someone said a short distance behind them.  Both heads turned to see Janet upright.  She was already awake and surveying the area.  Neither of the others were startled.  They should have known she would start doing her own thing after noticing both of them were fine.  ¡°Has anyone tried the door yet?¡±

    ¡°Sure you¡¯re okay?  Do you remember anything about coming here?¡±  Xavier had to ask.  Mostly, this was out of concern for his sister.  Partially, it was because he felt a little guilty for not checking on her earlier.  It was kind of easy to forget about her if he was not careful.

    ¡°I¡¯m not hurt or anything.¡±  Janet turned left and right to show her siblings that she was fine.  ¡°But I don¡¯t know either.¡±  Gray fur covered most of her body.  Aside from a little dirt, it was clean.  Blood stains showed really well in fur.  Even if it was somewhere they could not see, they would be able to smell it.  No one was hurt.  It was too early to tell if that was a good thing or even more worrisome.

    ¡°If we find mom and dad, they¡¯ll know what happened.¡±  Claudia posited.

    ¡°But we¡¯re in here and they¡¯re not.¡±  Xavier replied.

    ¡°Anyone tried the door yet?¡±  Janet repeated her earlier question.

    Xavier¡¯s ears folded back.  He would have gotten to that soon.  The annoyance did not last long.  It was hard to stay mad at anyone when you were in a potentially bad situation.  ¡°I¡¯ll do it now.¡±  He said.

    Xavier jumped off the bed.  It was not a very long drop, even for a young wolf.  The mattress was about two feet off the ground at its highest point.  Not pausing to analyze the floor, he trotted up to the door, stood up on his hind legs, and grasped the knob.  It turned easily, as a doorknob should do.  A sense of relief served as a soothing balm for the inflamed sense of waking up in a strange place.  Any relief he had vanished when he pushed the door and it remained stationary.  The door was not locked, but it was bolted shut on the other side.

    If he was ambiguous on whether or not they were in a bad situation before, this clarified things.  All of the anxiety and sense of wrongness he had when he woke up coalesced into a feeling of panic.  He tried to push on the door again.  It did not budge.  He reared back and smacked his shoulder into the door to try and jar it loose.  Maybe, just maybe, it was only stuck.  No luck there either.  He turned around and looked up at his sisters, wide eyed and staring.  They were looking back at him, twin expressions of concern on their muzzles.

    ¡°The door¡¯s locked!¡±  He yelled.  Turning to the door once more, he tried in vain to slam his body against it.  Once, twice, thrice, if he could hit it hard enough, he might be able to knock it loose.

    Claudia, out of concern for her brother, had to put a stop to this.  She leapt down and bounded to his side.  She pulled him away from the door before he could dislocate his shoulder trying to open it.  ¡°Xavier, stop!  Don¡¯t hurt yourself!¡±  She tugged her brother away and put herself between him and the door.  She knew how overzealous he could get when it came to a physical task.

    The young wolf did back off, but he did not feel any better.  The desire to get out, and get out right now, overwhelmed his active thoughts.  He wanted to charge the door again and start clawing at it, but he knew Claudia was right.  It was not hopeless.  It could not be.  There had to be another way out.  A window, a crack in the wall, something!  He turned around and looked at the room through eyes unburdened by the mental fog that accompanies someone who first wakes up.  It was almost as if he noticed the room for the first time.

    What he saw did nothing but put him more on edge.  The room was meant to be comforting, but only superficially.  The toy chest came into focus first.  The animals painted on the front were divided with the carnivorous, predatory animals on one side and the traditional prey animals on the other.  At first, Xavier thought they were playing because everyone was smiling.  Their teeth were showing, but they were not smiling.  The meat-eaters¡¯ lips were peeled back in feral snarls, animalistic hunger sparkling in their painted-on eyes.  The other animals, the ones made of meat the carnivores were mad to tear into, had mouths open in gasping terror as they tried to flee.  Xavier was not squeamish to violence, but the raw nature of the picture made his stomach turn.  It was a vision of wolves that he did not like.  A debased, fallen vision that could very well lurk in the mind of every wolf, but was kept in check by conscience.  There were those who advocated a return to such behavior.  The thrill of the hunt, living at one with nature, returning the pack life away from cities or the trappings of society.  A repudiation of the fact that God had placed them above falling to base instincts.  Seeing squirrels so afraid, running from hungry wolves, made him even more uncomfortable.  They could have been Ronald or Cecilia, or any of his friends.

    He tore his gaze away and looked at the paintings.  These too were only okay if one did not look at them too long.  The first one looked like a serene picnic.  The scene was a forest clearing at midday, with the sun shining down on a trio of wolves gathered around a checkered cloth laid out on the grass.  They looked quite content, looks of the satisfaction that came with a good meal on their faces.  It was when one looked at the cloth that one noticed something off.  A sheep lay splayed out on the picnic cloth.  Pristine white fur stained pink with blood, body opened to expose the innards in a smear of crimson.  No sandwiches or lemonade, the lamb was the midday¡¯s fare.  The pleased smiles on the faces of the wolves were all smeared with blood, though their fur was too dark to show it easily.

    The second painting depicted a cozy home far but not too far from the edge of a forest.  It would have been a wonderful picture of someone¡¯s dream home.  Again, some details made it seem not quite right.  An odd miasma hung over the house.  The toxic-looking cloud hung around it as if part of the building, choking off the sunlight from above.  The way it was painted made it seem like the mist was almost moving, as if being pushed out from the forest itself by an unseen force.  Vines extended from the woods, running along the ground like an organic carpet toward the house.  They infested the home like a mass of parasitic worms.  The windows were all broken, the door lay partially off its hinges, and several breaches were in the walls.  All the spaces were occupied by invasive plant life, threading through the home wherever they could.  Even the blue family station wagon in the driveway had a young tree growing out of the engine block like a severed arm.  Nature had retaken the house, driving out whoever lived there before.  That is, if they even had a chance to flee.  The thought that the occupants were inside, trapped in unnatural greenery, did not escape Xavier.

    The final picture simply showed a giant tree.  A mighty oak took up half of the frame and stood tall and proud above the forest floor.  It had a thick, healthy trunk, many branches, and beautiful leaves in every shade of green imaginable.  It had a glow to it.  Beams of sunlight streaming through the windows made them positively shimmer.  Only half of the picture held the tree.  The other half showed the roots extending into the ground; a cutaway to see them in detail.  But they were not roots, not entirely.  The tangles and tendrils twisted to form shapes.  Images of forest creatures, half formed and in the process of being formed, stuck out among the roots.  It brought to mind pictures of a baby in the womb from the science books at school.  This was more of a perverse mockery of a mother¡¯s womb.  It suggested all creatures were birthed directly from the soil, and started out as odd, plant derived beasts.  Or, maybe, they were all dead and being absorbed as food for the trees.  Xavier did not want to think too much about it.

    The headboard was not any better.  Wooden headboards easily led themselves to carvings.  Trees, about five in all, were etched into the board.  They formed a canopy of sorts, with the leaves forming a blanket over them so thick one tree¡¯s leaves were not distinguishable from the next.  The two trees to the right and left of the central tree looked reasonably normal.  Maybe they were a bit more humanoid than a real tree, but otherwise not worth a second glance.  In the center of them, a very strange tree drew all of the onlooker¡¯s attention.  The tree was a person.  Maybe not quite a person, but not quite a tree either.  The build suggested she was female and very tall, as tall as the trees surrounding her.  Long legs went into the ground.  The limbs melded with the roots that extended from the other trees, joining them all together.  The strands of her long hair did the same.  Her arms were outstretched, spread out as if she were a holy figure in a high Renaissance painting.  Normally, they gave Xavier a sense of awe.  Mystery tree lady¡¯s posture had the opposite effect on him.  He found it deeply unsettling.  This might have been because of her face.  It was very well carved, seeming almost lifelike.  It almost looked like it was not carved at all, but molded like clay.  Her eyes were closed and her face was thin and drawn.  She had human features, but her face looked too long.  The depiction made her look¡­..not quite dead, but peaceful.  Maybe ¡®inert¡¯ would have been a better word for it.  Looking at it still creeped Xavier out in unquantifiable ways.

    Who liked stuff like this?  Whoever decorated the room seemed to have a love for nature.  While Xavier liked being outdoors, being a nature lover himself, this was a different aspect of it entirely.  The room¡¯s owner seemed to love the more dangerous, wild aspects of nature.  Nature overtaking civilization.  Nature either absorbing or giving rise to living things.  Wild animals behaving, well, wildly, particularly the carnivorous ones.  Every scene turned his stomach, with the bloody picnic being worst of all.  He knew that feral wolves were hunters and ate meat.  Raw, bloody meat.  Not being feral, but still being a wolf, made Xavier uncomfortable whenever the topic was broached.

    If this was someone¡¯s idea of a guest room, they had poor taste.  The room was unsettling, but it was not disused.  The floors were clean.  The paintings neatly hung and all the furniture dusted.  The bed had clean linens.  None of the wolves could detect the smell of age, mold, or dust that came with rooms that were just for show.  There was a toy chest, indicating someone expected this room to be occupied by children.  It even had a healthy potted plant.  No, this was not a guest room.  It was not unused.  Someone prepared this for someone.  For them.  The thought made Xavier cringe, his ears flatten against his skull, and a cold, prickly tingle trace up his limbs.

    He looked at Claudia, then at Janet.  Claudia looked at him.  The edges of her muzzle were curled into a worried frown.  Janet was staring wide eyed at the grim picnic.  When she sensed that her brother was looking at her, in that way siblings always seemed to know, she looked just as fearful as Claudia.

    ¡°Whoever brought us here is sick¡­.¡±  Xavier stated.

    ¡°And I think¡­.they took us here on purpose.¡±  Claudia answered.  ¡°Look at all the wolves¡­and the toybox.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t like it here¡­..¡±  Janet said.

    ¡°As soon as the door opens, we make a run for it.¡±  Xavier focused on the door.  It might be their best chance to get out of there.  Their captor might not know they were awake.  If they could overwhelm him or her, they could sprint off into the forest and leave this weird room behind them.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°What if he catches one of us?¡±  Janet asked.

    ¡°I¡¯ll bite him.¡±  Xavier replied.  To emphasize this, he snapped his teeth.  Dad told them not to bite people.  This was an extenuating circumstance.

    ¡°We won¡¯t leave each other behind.  That¡¯s for sure.¡±  Claudia reassured her sister.  ¡°But¡­.we don¡¯t know where we are.  How¡¯ll we find our way back home?¡±

    ¡°As long as we keep walking one way, we¡¯ll get out.¡±  Xavier straightened himself up to appear confident.  Back straight, head high, he almost believed it himself.  The fear of getting lost in the forest was present.  It was almost as strong as his unease at being here.  Almost.  He was not sure if he was willing to risk it.  Not entirely.  With his sisters, however, everything would be fine.

    ¡°This is a bad idea¡­.¡±  Claudia stated.  Another look at the pictures made her shudder.  ¡°But better than staying here.¡±  She hopped off the bed and went to Xavier¡¯s side.  Janet took her place with them.  That was the plan.  The best play they had.  Wait for the door to open.  Then run.

    They waited for several minutes.  They focused on the door as much as any small child could focus on anything.  Any movement it made would not escape their sight.  Any creak to indicate it was opening would not escape their ears.  To anyone who ever tried to corral a group of children when they set their minds on running somewhere, they knew stopping them carried a low probability of success.

    Surprisingly, none of them moved when the door opened.  They were all ready to go, eager to go.  What came through startled them enough that they could only stare.  Wide eyes, three sets of them, looked up at the figure in the door.  It was a pity the door swung shut before they could realize they had an opening.

    What came in the door both was and was not a bear.  The features were ursine.  A large, broad frame covered in dull brown fur with darker fur on his paws and muzzle.  Typical of his species, his body was built with muscle covered in a layer of distributed fat.  A standard bear like that, walking in with unknown intentions, would be a source of concern, but not alarm.  He was not hunched over, plodding along on all fours like a bear should.  Instead, he walked like a human.  Most bears could walk on their legs for a few steps if they absolutely had to.  This one ambled in on two feet quite easily.  His back was straight, arms at his sides.  He walked more like a man than a bear.  His head did not look right.  It was a bear¡¯s head, but it looked too small.  It was mostly because he had human-like hair.  A crown of long, black hair sat on top of his head.  It hung down to his back and was braided.  Unlike most animals, he was fully dressed.  He wore a pair of loose, dark green pants and a matching shirt.  It showed his body was more humanoid, just covered in bear fur.  His legs did not even bend right.

    Xavier had never seen anything like it.  He knew about humans, despite not seeing them often.  Everyone knew what a human was.  He knew about bears.  Several of his friends were bears.  This thing was some weird amalgamation of the two.  It was like looking at something that should not exist and you knew it.  Where was he from?  What was he?  How did he get here?  More worryingly, what did he want with them?  All of these questions crowded over each other in Xavier¡¯s head.  They banged into each other so forcefully he vocalized none of them.  He had to try not to shudder just looking at the bear thing.

    The bear seemed oblivious to the uncomfortable, itching sensation under Xavier¡¯s fur.  A smile was on his muzzle.  He carried a wooden tray with three wooden bowls on it.  He held it at chest level.  The angle, coupled with how tall he was, made it so the children could not see what was in them.

    He stopped walking when he noticed the triplets were awake and staring at him with wide eyes.  ¡°Oh, look who¡¯s already awake.  Such energetic little kinder.¡±  He spoke with a very deep, very thick voice that took a long time to rumble from his chest to his muzzle to the outside air.  It was made even more dense by a heavy accent.  Quite guttural and it made his w¡¯s sound more like v¡¯s.  Despite it being so dense, he was not difficult to understand.  ¡°I hope you slept well.  I have some breakfast for you, so eat.¡±  He held the tray out.

    This was a nice gesture.  Possibly.  Xavier did not trust him.  It was not just because he looked strange, but there was something off-putting about him.  He did not smell right.  He had a bear¡¯s scent, but there were a lot of other things there too.  Not just the usual forest smells of leaves, dirt, and miscellaneous flowers and berries.  Something smelled overripe, like fruit about to go bad.  Something almost¡­.energetic.  Like the air after you saw a bolt of lightning a little too close for comfort, something like that.  All three of them asked a question simultaneously.

    ¡°Who are you?¡±  From Xavier.

    ¡°How¡¯d we get here?¡±  From Claudia.

    ¡°Where¡¯s mom and dad?¡±  From Janet.

    The bear¡¯s smile vanished for a moment.  The silence coming from him matched the tension.  Xavier did not have time to think about it before the smile returned.

    ¡°I would expect you to be curious.  It is a new thing, waking up after being given a new purpose.¡±  He leaned down.  The triplets scrabbled back from him, as if he were about to lunge.  No violent movements were made.  Instead, he set the tray on the floor.  ¡°Here.  Fresh fruit from my garden and salmon from my r?ucherei.  You will enjoy it.¡±  He reached over to pat Xavier on the head, who was too slow to avoid the massive paw.  Not liking a stranger¡¯s touch, especially a strange stranger, he winced.  The bear seemed not to notice.

    ¡°But what about¡­.¡±  Claudia began.

    ¡°Eat and I will answer your curiosity.¡±  He grunted and settled his bulk into the chair next to the door.  It creaked under his weight.  The bear had to be about seven feet tall and four feet wide.  Smaller than a fully grown bear, but huge for a human.  ¡°You will need your strength today as I have much to show you.¡±

    The triplets exchanged glances while the bear looked at them expectantly.  Each bowl contained identical foodstuffs.  A healthy portion of blackberries and raspberries, shelled walnuts, and a slab of smoked salmon.  Everything looked fine.  The berries were free of any mold or punctures.  The rich reds and black suggested they were at peak ripeness and practically bursting with juice.  The walnuts had a slightly darkened quality that went with being toasted.  Warmed up enough to have a slight crust, but not burnt.  The rich, shiny red hue of the salmon showed it was smoked by someone who knew what he was doing.  Everything smelled delicious.  Ripe fruit and toasty nuts and the rich, salty, smoky smell of the salmon made Xavier¡¯s salivary glands kick into gear.  Fear made it easy to forget you were hungry.  However, when delicious food was presented to you, it was hard to ignore.  Not having eaten for at least twelve hours did not help.  Xavier sniffed it again, but made no move to eat it.

    ¡°Is it safe?¡±  Claudia asked the question they were all thinking.

    The smile vanished again, but only for a moment.  Then, the bear let out a deep, throaty chuckle.  ¡°Of course.  From my garden.  I know what berries are good and what are poison, so you need not worry.¡±  Leaning down to a chorus of chair creaks, he plucked a berry from the bowl nearest to Claudia and popped it in his mouth.  ¡°Mmm.  Sehr gut.  I know you are not used to food not prepackaged by foul machines or made by soft hands, but it is better than what you would get in town.  So eat.¡±

    So, the bear could eat the stuff.  That meant it was probably not poisonous.  Unless he knew the exact right berry to eat.  A concept like that was stretching.  If the bear wanted to hurt them, he probably would not need to use tricks.  He had ample opportunity to injure the triplets while they were unconscious.  Coupled with his hunger, this made a convincing argument for Xavier to try the food.  He looked at his sisters and leaned in to eat.  They waited for him to try his before they ate theirs.  This was by design.  If something were to happen to him, they would know it was not safe.  A brother protecting his sisters, as it should be.

    Teeth closed around a single blackberry.  Carefully, he brought it into his mouth and chewed.  It seemed to burst between his teeth, being perfectly ripe.  Full of flavorful juice, it was delicious, coating his tongue in a natural sweetness that could only come from nature¡¯s candy.  The young wolf was too hungry to savor it and it quickly ran down his throat.  He followed it up with one of the red ones, then another black one.  No hints of acrid, bitter tastes that went along with eating something one should not.  He tried the toasted walnuts and found them equally edible.  Each fragment had a delightful crunch to them.  Toasting walnuts brough their flavor to its peak.  He finished those faster than he did the berries, eating them at the rapid pace that usually caused his mother to tell him to slow down or he would get a gut ache.  No aches yet.  No cramping of the bowels or light headedness.  It was safe to try the salmon.  He tore a small bite of it off and chewed.  Salmon jerky was always a treat and this was no different.  Salty and smoky, it put any store bought, prepackaged jerky to shame.

    Xavier looked at his sisters and nodded.  The food was safe and they finally started to eat.

    The bear, who had been watching this entire ritual, chuckled.  ¡°Is it common for you to eat before your sisters, little boy?¡±

    It seemed like the bear was suspicious of their suspicion.  Xavier, not knowing what to say, said nothing.  He kept eating in the hope that the bear would let the subject drop.

    ¡°Must not know you even do it.  Very well.¡±  It seemed to work.  ¡°As for who I am, my name is Kiam Dietrich.¡±  His accent thickened noticeably when he said his own name and he spoke it with a self-important air.  He waited for the children to acknowledge the importance of meeting him.  They had no idea who he was.  Clearing his throat, he moved on.  ¡°And this is my forest home.  Or, your new room in my home.¡±

    ¡°Our room?¡±  Claudia asked the question all of them immediately thought of.  She was the only one between bites.

    ¡°Yes.  Everything here is yours.  There are toys in the chest you can make use of between walks among the Mutter des Bodens domain.  A nice, comfortable bed with a quilt I made for the kinder.  And windows to view the forest that will be your new home.¡±

    ¡°New home?¡±  Claudia pressed.  ¡°But¡­.¡±

    Kiam¡¯s expression darkened for a moment.  Muzzle tilted down, eyes narrowed.  A dark look that made Claudia¡¯s ears lower and return her attention to the bowl.  ¡°No more interruptions.  If I am to guide you, you will listen when I speak.  This is not a request.¡±  His expression brightened.  ¡°But, not to worry.  I can tell you are very excited, so there is no harm done.¡±

    Xavier felt his heart flutter.  No matter what his words were, no matter how good the food was, this was a dangerous man¡­.bear¡­.thing.  He may be feeding them and trying to put on a friendly face, but he was not very good at it.  The mask kept slipping.  It was not in the complete right context, but Xavier suddenly thought of Matthew 7.  Even evil people knew how to give good things to their children.  That he was trying to treat them like this was disturbing.

    ¡°And yes, this is your new home.  I have taken it upon myself to raise you.  Raise you in a way fitting of your noble species.  I am your papa now.¡±

    The triplets did not have to say anything.  Glancing at each other, their worried frowns said it all.

    ¡°I know this look you are giving each other.¡±  Kiam interrupted their internal panic session.  ¡°You do not know why I have done such a thing.  Why a great forest guardian such as I would have a want of kinder.¡±  He cleared his throat, as if he was about to say something profound.  ¡°The world you are from is broken and corrupt.  Your parents, your people, have completely lost touch with nature.  You have forgotten where you came from.¡±  He paused to let the statement sink in, as if ten-year-olds had a concept of such things.  ¡°They would have raised you to be as soft-handed as they are.  Working with their machines to be at odds with nature, rather than in harmony with it.  And, were you still in their care, they would have succeeded.¡±  He paused to gauge their reaction.  They were trying to ignore him, so he kept going.

    ¡°I see you are¡­..worried.  Don¡¯t be.  I did not take you by force.  Your parents are just fine.  In fact, your mother gave you up willingly.¡±

    All three wolves stopped eating.  They stared at him with wide eyes.  That was not possible.  He had to be lying.  They just met this guy and they had known their mother for their entire lives.  Giving them to a stranger to raise was so far out of character for her it was as farcical as it was comical.

    ¡°Ah, I know that look.  You do not believe me.  The bond between mother and child is very strong, yes?  But, not unbreakable.¡±  He leaned in to give his best ¡®I¡¯m getting closer to show my sincerity¡¯ look.  ¡°I explained to her the better life I offered you.  Demonstrated the power I will share with you, gifted to me by the Mutter des Bodens.  A mother wants what¡¯s best for her child, so she allowed me to take you with me.¡±  He folded his arms over his belly.  ¡°Even she recognized you have a greater purpose.¡±

    That sounded even more suspicious.  No, absolutely not.  Xavier did not trust this guy.  Not in the least.  He had no idea what a mutter des bodens was, but it sounded weird.  Power and greater purpose?  He sounded like the bad guy in his favorite cartoon, Ghost Fighter.  And he certainly did not believe him about their mother.

    ¡°We want to hear it from her.  Can we see our mother again now?¡±  Xavier asked before Kiam could continue.  A several second pause elapsed after his last sentence.  That was more than enough time for a young boy to interject.

    ¡°Hm?¡±  Kiam raised an eyebrow, then shook his head with a wry chuckle.  ¡°No, no.  It cannot be done.  I will not have them further contaminating you with the malformed thoughts of civilized worlds.  I simply cannot allow it now that you are here.  No, not when I have so much to show you¡­.and you have so much potential.¡±

    Claudia straightened up to speak.  ¡°But, Mr. Dietrich¡­.¡±  She began.

    ¡°Please, young Claudia.  Call me papa.¡±  Kiam interrupted.

    ¡°¡­..Mr. Dietrich.¡±  Claudia continued, clearly not interested in calling him any names that suggested familiarity.  ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re really nice, but we miss our mom¡­..¡±

    ¡°Yeah!¡±  Xavier added.  ¡°And if she really gave us up like that, I want to hear it from her!¡±

    One would almost expect the bear to be annoyed.  He looked that way for a moment before leaning back in his chair and chuckling.  A deep, throaty chuckle.  ¡°No, no.  My mind is made up.  You will stay here.  It is far less painful for you to cut off contact with them.  The only way you will see them is if they come looking for you, but I doubt that will happen.  She was eager to get rid of you.  This is for the best.  You will thank me when you are older.¡±

    ¡°¡­.You¡¯re talking like we¡¯ll never see our mom and dad ever again.¡±  Claudia stated.

    ¡°Oh, little kinder.  Never is a long time, so I would not say that.¡±  The bear reached down to pat her on the head.  She was not fast enough to avoid it.  ¡°Perhaps someday, when you are grown and have stepped into your greater purpose, I will show you to them so they can see what fine, upstanding forest guardians you have become.  Until then, you will stay with me at all times.  I must train you without the distraction of unloving parents.¡±

    ¡°They¡¯ll come looking for us!¡±  Xavier shouted louder than he intended to.  This was not right.  The bear was lying and he knew it.

    A downward tilted muzzle and Kiam glared at the boy.  A glare one could feel, intense enough that Xavier shrank back.  Kiam was still a lot bigger than him and he was only ten years old.  ¡°They will not find you.¡±  He said, before the gaze and tone of voice lightened.  ¡°But, they will not look for you either.  If they do come here, they are more than welcome to visit.  But, it is not going to happen.¡±

    Xavier felt the fur on the back of his neck rise up.  Hackles visible, he barked.  ¡°They will find us!  They¡¯re looking for us right now!  They won¡¯t¡­.!¡±

    Claudia went over and clapped a paw over her brother¡¯s muzzle.  ¡°Calm down¡­.¡±  She whispered.  ¡°We can slip out quietly later¡­but don¡¯t make him mad.  Something¡¯s wrong with him.¡±

    ¡°Is something wrong, little Claudia and Xavier?¡±  The bear asked, watching the scene unfold below him.

    ¡°Sorry, Mr. Dietrich.¡±  Claudia responded.  ¡°My brother gets really excited sometimes¡­.¡±

    ¡°Young boys are so passionate.  It is a good thing.¡±  The bear gave Xavier another headpat.  Or, tried to.  This time he ducked it.  Not seeming to notice, he kept talking.  ¡°No need for it now, though.  I will take the best care of all of you.  Everything a growing wizard could need will be provided to you.  It is your purpose.¡±

    ¡°You keep talking about a purpose.¡±  Claudia flicked an ear.  ¡°What do you mean?  You haven¡¯t told us what it is yet.¡±

    ¡°Did I not?¡±  Kiam tilted his head back, then looked back down at Claudia.  ¡°Ah!  No, I have not.  Do forgive me for the confusion.  I am just so excited to have kinder of my own that I forgot.¡±  He smiled without showing his teeth.  ¡°You are to be my children, children of the earth.  I am going to mold you into great and powerful druids, just as I am.  You will become not what your soft civilization wishes you to be, but wolves.  True wolves, exercising dominion over the forest.  All of the lesser creatures will look to you for protection, and will be used by you as you see fit, as you will know how to maintain the balance of things.  You will live at one with nature, and nature will provide for you.  You will both command and be commanded by it.  You will be the lords and ladies of the forest, in your way, answering only to the Mutter des Bodens.  And as you serve her, she will serve you.  The rewards for obedience to a true goddess are great.¡±  Kiam nodded sagely and waited for what he said to sink in.

    Xavier was no longer uncomfortable.  A word like ¡®uncomfortable¡¯ was insufficient to describe this sensation.  What he felt now was much worse.  This bear was clearly insane.  Any ambiguity that he was a little eccentric or just a well meaning, awkward soul was gone.  They had been kidnapped, no doubt about it.  Xavier was not at panic level yet, but he felt like he was in terrible danger.  It was as if the car he rode in was being driven by a madman and they were heading towards the ocean.  Insisting they were fine as long as they kept the windows rolled up, the madman¡¯s car would plunge into the water.

    ¡°We don¡¯t want any of that!¡±  He yelped.  ¡°We just want to go home!  None of us want to be your kids!¡±  Momentarily, he worried that he overstepped.  Claudia and Janet might not be on board with this level of defiance.  Diplomacy was Claudia¡¯s strength and she had all the tact.  Janet was quietly observing things.  They both stepped closer to him and he felt better.  They agreed.  Of course they agreed.  What sort of child rejected their loving parents over being taken in by a wizard?

    The bear did not seem phased by this.  A throaty chuckle came from his chest.  ¡°I thought modern kinder loved tales of wizards liberating put upon children from overbearing parents?  This should be a dream of yours, being taught real, tangible magic.  Do you lack imagination?¡±

    ¡°Magic isn¡¯t real!¡±  Xavier shouted, having none of this fantasy stuff.  He may be ten, but he was not that na?ve.

    ¡°Is it not?¡±  Kiam tilted his head.  ¡°How foolish you are, little child.¡±

    Without another word, he reached over and hefted the potted plant from its place at the door.  He set it on the floor between his feet.  It bounced slightly, leaves rustling and tightly closed buds bobbing with the motion.  By all accounts, it was a plant.  Inert, only capable of motion if you tossed it off the roof, happy to photosynthesize sugar out of sunlight and water if left to its own devices.  It looked healthy, but not very big or vibrant.  Xavier thought he was going to sing to it or something.  Expectations were low.

    The bear¡¯s right paw held gently over the base of the stalk.  He said nothing, but a soft, green light surrounded his ursine mitt.  There was no sound, no smells, just a calming, green light.  As he ran the paw up the stalk and past the leaves, the entire shoot straightened up.  The leaves broadened.  New buds formed on stems and blossomed.  As they all opened, they exposed beautiful, cup shaped pink flowers.  As his paw reached the top of the plant, the petals fell away.  In their place, greenish pink berries grew.  They swelled up to the size of largish grapes.  There were about a dozen of them in all.  From a young shoot to a full, blossoming berry bush, the process took a matter of seconds.

    The triplets stared wide eyed at the display.  Outside of various fictional media, they had never seen anything like this.  Interesting, sure.  If they were watching it as part of a magic trick, they would be enthralled.  This was no magic trick.  Three wolves retreated from the plant without realizing it.  The glow alone caused them to move back.

    ¡°Magic is not real, you say?¡±  The bear stated.  ¡°Ah, to be young and sheltered.  How little you know, but how much I can teach you.¡±  He plucked three berries from the plant and laid them down in front of the triplets, but too close to himself for comfort.  ¡°They are not native to your world, but safe to eat.  They are like gooseberries, very nice.¡±

    The triplets backed up even more.  No way they were eating dubious magicberries.

    Now it was panic time.  The bear kept talking about some pagan goddess over and over.  This was the source of his power.  And if the source of his power pushed him to doing something as evil as kidnapping children, he had to be evil as well.

    ¡°Let us go right now!¡±  Janet finally spoke up.  She screamed it, eyes wide and terrified.  ¡°I don¡¯t want to learn black magic!  I just want to go home!  Let us go you bad man!¡±

    Expecting them to be impressed instead of horrified, Kiam seemed taken aback.  Eyes wide and mouth a thin line.  In an instant, his eyes turned mean.  Muzzle peeled back to show sharp teeth, he stopped just short of growling.  To protect his sisters, Xavier stepped forward.  Instinctively, they got behind him.  His heart thudding like a drum, he did not know what to expect next.

    ¡°You¡­..¡±  Kiam started, then closed his mouth.  He said something in a language they did not know, then he stood up.  ¡°Is nothing.  You are scared children.  Not seen something before, raised by narrow fools¡­.I should have known it would scare you.¡±  He let out a breath.  ¡°I¡­.need a moment.  You will wait here.  When I return, I will show you my domain.¡±  Out the door he went.  Tumblers clicked in place as the door locked.  They were alone again.

    Three wolves looked at each other.  Xavier was happy they had not come to any harm.  For a moment, it looked like the bear might hurt them.  Unstable and quick to anger, they were going to have to be careful.  He felt like, at any moment, he might be pushed over the edge and end them.

    ¡°We have to get out of here.¡±  Xavier said what everyone was thinking.

    ¡°I know¡­.I just don¡¯t know how.¡±  Claudia replied.  ¡°I¡­I don¡¯t think he¡¯s going to let us go.¡±

    ¡°Dad would know what to do¡­.¡±  Xavier thought of his father.  His dad was the strongest man in the world.  The smartest too.  While all children thought that, Xavier knew it was true.

    ¡°I wish he was here¡­and mom¡­¡±  Janet was starting to cry, but she was trying not to look like it.

    ¡°Me too¡­..¡±  Claudia said.  ¡°We¡­we have to find a way to let the know we¡¯re here.  They¡¯ll look for us.¡±

    ¡°How¡¯ll we leave a trail for them?  We¡¯re locked in this room.¡±  Xavier replied.

    ¡°He said he was going to show us stuff.  Wherever he takes us in the woods, we can leave stuff behind.¡±  Claudia responded.

    ¡°¡­.like what?¡±  Xavier asked.

    The triplets were silent for several seconds.

    ¡°Mom taught us to make those pinecone deer heads for the Christmas tree¡­.maybe we can hang those up on trees?¡±  Janet offered.

    More silence, then all of them smiled.  It would help, especially since their dad could smell them on them.  What lupine parents did not know the scent of their own children?

    ¡°That¡¯ll work.¡±  Claudia said.  ¡°We just¡­have to hold out till then.¡±

    ¡°What about that magic stuff?¡±  Xavier asked.  ¡°He¡¯s gonna try to teach it to us.¡±

    ¡°We don¡¯t have to make it easy for him.¡±  Claudia replied.  ¡°But¡­he might try to hurt us.  What if he makes us do stuff?¡±  A chilling thought.  They did not know the extent of his powers.  Losing their will did not occur to them overtly, but the possibility of it warping them did not escape their thoughts.

    ¡°I¡¯m not scared.¡±  Xavier¡¯s response.  ¡°God will protect us.¡±  He paused, hoping that they believed him.  He believed it.  Looking at them, so did they.  ¡°¡­..should we pray together?¡±

    The sisters nodded.  They knew that they did not have to have any adults with them for God to hear them.  They believed as their parents did; even in hopeless situations, where no worldly options were available, talking to the most powerful Being in the universe was always an option.

 6. Dont Run Cant Run

    One hour later, Kiam returned.  His demeanor had calmed considerably.  Friendly enough, he almost seemed jovial.  Playing like he was a friendly papa of three happy little children.  The triplets knew better.  Unstable was the best word for it, though the children would not have thought to call him that.  To them, he seemed like that kid their in class who was really friendly right up until you did something she did not like.  Then she yelled at you or threw a ball at your head.  Or threw your book over the fence.

    Knowing he had the potential to sour rapidly, the kids greeted him with silence.  Getting the silent treatment did not bother him.  He happily announced it was time to show them around their new home.  Into the hallway they went.  Kiam led and the children followed him at a distance.  As a group, they decided they would do what he asked of them, provided he did not ask them to do something horrible.  From his display of magic, they had no idea what he was capable of.  Playing it safe was the only option.

    That did not mean they had to talk to him.  Silence followed Kiam throughout the house.  He rambled on about his nice cabin and how he came here.  Mostly about building it and carving the furniture.  The triplets paid attention, but none of the information seemed noteworthy.  Listening closely enough also allowed them to know when a curt, one word answer was required.  Usually a ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®no¡¯.

    It was a shame Kiam was such an unsavory man.  Otherwise, his cabin would be homey.  Nice in its own way.  The main room had a dirt floor.  In fact, all the floors outside of their room were dirt.  Being children, this did not bother them.  If anything, it was novel to have a floor made of packed earth indoors.  Kids loved to play in the dirt.  If you could play in the dirt without leaving your home, lots of potential for fun.

    They did not feel much like playing as they followed Kiam into the living room.  The room was very open, with the furniture mostly sitting along the walls.  He talked about the hand carved oak chairs, all looking like furniture for humans or people shaped like him.  ¡°Do not worry, kinder.  I know you cannot use a lot of these things now.¡±  He stated.  ¡°Someday, the Mutter des Bodens will gift you with forms more suitable to be her servants, like mine.  But, that will not be for a long time.¡±  Ominous.  All three of them exchanged looks, mentally agreeing not to stay there long enough for that to become their reality.  Being a half man half bear like Kiam felt like a poor life choice.

    Kiam continued talking, oblivious to their discomfort.  He gestured at the scattering of small windows, about six in all.  There was no glass on these windows; that seemed to be a feature of their room.  They did have shutters, which were open to let in the morning light.  The triplets smelled the fresh air coming in through the windows.  A gentle breeze brought in the scent of growing trees, warm earth, and flowers.  Another sensation that would be pleasant anywhere but here.  A fireplace was in the corner.  Very old fashioned, it was made of simple mortar and uneven stones.  They were cobbled together into a hearth and chimney leading through the ceiling.  No fire was in the hearth, but there were ashes, indicating it was not strictly ornamental.

    The next room was a kitchen of sorts.  A cast iron, pot bellied stove sat in the corner with a pipe running from it into the wall to manage smoke.  The flat top was covered with pots.  No fire in here either.  A five-tiered shelf pushed against one wall and contained numerous baskets full of fruits and vegetables, as well as clay crocks with lids on them.  A table against the opposite wall was covered in knives and utensils for food preparation and a cabinet nearby probably held all of the flatware and tableware.  Dirt floor here, just not as ¡®clean¡¯ as the dirt floor in the living room.  Bits and strands and chunks of fallen vegetables littered the floor around a table pushed against the wall.  Also featured were splashes of red fruit juice.  Partially congealed and partially soaked into the dirt.  At least, Xavier hoped that was fruit juice; did not smell like it.  A table with one chair was where Kiam probably ate his meals.  The sink, or what appeared to be a sink, was under the only window in the room.  Instead of a tap, a wrought iron water pump supplied water to the stoneware basin.

    The bear had more to say, of course.  ¡°This is where I keep the food, yes.  Lots of nutritious things for my little kinder to eat.  None of that fast food, fried, machine-made slop that comes from the cities.  Eating good, nutritious food may take some getting used to, but it will make you strong.  I imagine your mother half-starved you with processed garbage.¡±  That was completely false and Xavier knew it.  He said nothing.  Let the bear ramble.  Unclear whether he was primarily talking to the kids or talking to himself.

    ¡°You will get lots of good meat too.  I can tell by your scent you do not get enough.  Eat the muscle and blood to grow strong in muscle and blood.¡±  He gave a toothy grin and Xavier suppressed a shiver.  His mannerisms suggested he should not trust any meat Kiam provided.  Hopefully it would be more fish, but he was starting to doubt that very much.

    ¡°If you are hungry, do ask me first.  No sneaking food from my kitchen.¡±  He lowered his head and his lips closed.  Still smiling, but no teeth.  ¡°I do not abide thieves in my domain.¡±

    Before Xavier could think about with how much caution to tread in this house, Kiam led them to the next room.  To the outside of the next room, more specifically.  He stood between them and the door, indicating they were not allowed to move past him.

    ¡°And this is my room.  You are never allowed to go in here unless I bring you here myself.¡±  The bear explained.

    The triplets nodded.  All of them were fine with that.  Parents not wanting kids in their room was normal.  Anyone not wanting other people in their room was normal.  In a way, it was somewhat refreshing that, as strange as the bear was, he did something that was borderline normal.  Xavier was convinced that whatever was in there was not appropriate for children anyway.  The last portion of what he said bothered him.

    ¡°¡­.Why would you bring us into your room?¡±  Xavier asked.

    Kiam took on the smiling look of a young boy hiding a destructive secret.  ¡°I may wish to speak to one of you without your siblings.¡±  He chuckled.  ¡°I see you look worried.  Do not be.  Usually, it will be because you have passed a milestone and I wish to show you something.  Otherwise, it is because you have done something particularly naughty.  And you will know if that has happened.¡±

    Xavier felt the foreboding sense he never felt before.  It was a strange feeling, being at the mercy of someone without his parents around to help.  He felt very alone suddenly.  The sensation lessened when he looked at his sisters.  At least they were here with him and they could help each other.  If he was truly alone, that last statement would have added weight.

    Speaking normally, as if this were normal, Kiam moved on.  ¡°The only other room you¡¯re not allowed in is the basement.  It is¡­.dangerous for you to go down there.  For now.  When you are older and have developed properly, I will show you.¡±  He started walking again.  ¡°Quickly now, kinder, more to show you.¡±

    The final room in the house was larger than their bedroom, at least twice the size.  An activity room.  Upper shelves contained books and lower shelves boxes with wooden bits in them.  A few of them looked like board games.  Those boxes looked like they had never been opened.  There was a short table in the center of the room.  It happened to be low enough that three young wolves and one large bear could sit at it and easily play games together.

    An easel sat in the far corner next to a small cart containing various unlabeled jars.  The rims of them were coated with pigment, so they had to contain paint or dye.  Without labels, one would assume the paint was homemade.  A partially finished painting sat on the easel.  The only detail that could be made out was the face of a buck with a pensive expression on his face.  The material it was on did not look like canvas.  Thinking back on the pictures in the triplets¡¯ room, none of them were on canvas.  It was not paper either.

    Xavier realized what it was.  The only thing it could be.  It was animal skin; dried and stretched and framed to serve as a medium for art.  His stomach twisted and he hoped that whichever animal it came from was not sentient.

    ¡°Here we are, kinder.  This will more than likely be your favorite room.  A modest game room for us to spend time as a family.¡±  Kiam gestured at the wall of activities.  ¡°Lots of good books and games for young minds.  For the days when you are inside.  You will be playing outdoors more often than not, I am sure.  Young kinder love being outside.¡±  Xavier was inclined to agree.  He would much rather be outside than in here.

    ¡°Oh, and I can teach you painting.  Maybe even woodworking when you get older.¡±  The bear chuckled.  ¡°Though, I have seen you prefer music over all else, correct?¡±  Pausing, he looked at the children.  Silence and blank stares were all he got back until the kids realized he was waiting for them to say something.  Rather than talk, they nodded.

    ¡°Yes, good, good.  You¡¯ll be happy to see I have some instruments for you.¡±  Sweeping his arm to another corner, he drew the children¡¯s attention to three musical instruments.  A violin, a viola, and a cello were sitting on their stands; the needed instruments to form a string trio.

    It was considerate of him to provide instruments that they could use, but unnerving.  The spooky part was how he knew that they played these ones in particular.  ¡°Those look¡­nice.¡±  Claudia stated.

    ¡°They are of the highest quality, I can assure you.  I can make just about anything out of wood.¡±  Kiam replied.  ¡°In fact, why don¡¯t you try them out?  I would love to hear my little kinder play me a song.¡±

    ¡°¡­.I don¡¯t know if we can play these.¡±  Claudia replied.  Xavier was with her.  He was not really interested in playing for the bear.  The situation was too weird.

    ¡°Nonsense, little ones.  I know you can play.¡±  Kiam¡¯s retort.

    ¡°How?¡±  Claudia asked.

    Kiam smiled in a pseudo-paternal way which made him look like that man at the bus station their mother told them to stay away from.  ¡°Why, I¡¯ve been watching you for some time.  How else could I know that you were suitable to be raised up in my ways?¡±  Kiam walked over to a chair placed a convenient listening distance away from the instruments.  ¡°Now, play a song for your papa.  I wish to hear my talented children.¡±  He settled into the chair, a wooden, padded thing big enough to accommodate a bulky bear, and waited.

    The children were not comfortable.  At all.  How long was he watching them?  Days?  Weeks?  Months?  If only they could have caught him in the act.  Seen him peering at them from wherever his creep den was at the park or in town.  Seen him watching them through their windows at night.  The thought made Xavier¡¯s fur itch.  A few sleepless nights would have been worth catching him.  Calling for dad.  He would have been able to chase the stupid bear away.  Young children, even at ten years old, knew what invasion of privacy was.  The idea of Kiam watching them made Xavier feel like he needed a bath.

    But, what choice did they have?  They were here.  All three of them looked at each other, knowing what they were thinking without a word between them.  The bear wanted a song; they did not want to play for him.  Eve normally, they were nervous playing in front of people.  None of them thought they were any good, having only played their instruments for a couple of years.  Mom and Dad made them play a song in front of church once and Janet was so nervous she nearly dropped her viola.  It was a small miracle they hit no sour notes.

    ¡°Go on, go on.  Play something beautiful for me.  No need to be shy.  Just because you may not be perfect is no reason not to play.¡±  The slight strain in Kiam¡¯s voice betrayed his impatience.  This would not be a request much longer.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    The triplets walked forward to collect their instruments.  Claudia the violin, Janet her viola, and Xavier his cello.  All of them were, of course, scaled down so wolf pups could play them.  Craftsmanship wise, they were beautiful.  Lacquer and dark stain on the wood made them look like something fit for a high-class symphony orchestra.  The bodies were solid and strings glistened in the morning light.  Kiam was not kidding about his woodworking.  It must have taken a while to craft them.  Unless magic went into that as well.  The children were almost afraid to play them.  Breaking one potentially could lead to the bear exploding at them.

    ¡°No need to be shy.  Let your talent loose for the world to enjoy.  No sense keeping it to yourselves.¡±  Kiam sounded impatient.  The edge was in his voice.

    Hesitating for a moment, they lifted their bows and put them to the strings.  What to play?  They did not know very many songs.  The first one that came into all of their heads was the hymn they played at church, ¡®Nothing but the Blood of Jesus¡¯.  They looked at each other and nodded, sharing that bond that siblings do when they all happened to think the same thing at the same time.

    Gentle notes flowed from the instruments.  Melodious tones, serene and powerful.  With an even cadence, the song filled the air.  At first, the three of them were surprised they played so well.  They practiced at least four times a week, sometimes to the detriment of their parents, who did not always appreciate the noise, but wanted them to improve.  No sour notes, no skips or slips as the bows glided over strings.  Perfect for a string trio.  After the opening stanza, Claudia started to sing.  Even in these wretched surroundings, the music flowed from her soul.  Claudia never felt the Holy Spirit quite as powerfully as when she sang God¡¯s praise.

    ¡°What can wash away my sin, nothing but the blood of Jesus.¡±  The young wolf sang.  ¡°What can¡­.!¡±

    Kiam slammed his fist on the arm of his chair.  The children jumped, the music stopped.  Every eye wide and staring at the bear.  He spoke in the voice of a disciplinarian, deep and irritated.  ¡°Nothing like that.  Play something else.¡±

    ¡°But¡­.we like that song.¡±  Claudia stated.  She wanted to hold firm on that.  Xavier agreed.  In a situation like this, they could use a good hymn.

    ¡°And I do not.  I will not have you playing songs to a fake god made up to control civilized fools.¡±  Kiam retorted.

    Xavier was not angry.  How could he be?  This was not the first time he heard someone make a ridiculous assertion about God.  He was still annoyed.  His mouth, operating independently of his brain, rattled off.  ¡°The Creator of the Universe, who died for our sins, including yours, is way more real than that fake mudder of bodies thing.¡±

    Kiam said nothing for several seconds.  His muzzle tilted down and his eyes locked on Xavier.  A cold sensation gripped his chest.  Those words were likely to rile the bear and Xavier knew this.  No backing down.  Dad taught him to stand for the truth.  Even without him here, he could do that.  Looking at the giant bear glowering down at him, he still felt intimidated.  Kiam shifted in his seat and Xavier was sure he was getting up to hit him.  His ears folded back and, despite his convictions, the size of the bear caused him to shrink back.

    Instead, Kiam simply settled into a more comfortable position in his seat.  He chuckled.  ¡°I cannot blame you, raised as you were.  Yours were not the parents willing to show you anything outside of their narrow world.  The Mutter des Bodens is quite real, I can assure you.  You will see this in time.  I have only shown you a fraction of her power, and there is so much more to see.¡±

    Xavier wanted to say something else.  He felt the dull, simmering sensation of anger in his chest.  A quickening heart beat and heat.  What gave him the right to talk about their parents like that?  He looked at Claudia, who gave him a look suggesting saying anything else would be unwise at the moment.

    Kiam was still talking anyway.  ¡°For now, I will have no songs celebrating the gods of your parents in my home.  Play something ¡­.classical.  I do enjoy the old music.  Anyone can appreciate that.¡±

    Xavier did not want to play anything for him at all.  He wanted to go home.  His sisters shared that sentiment.  None of them moved to manipulate their instruments.  No one put bows to strings.  They did not want to see another outburst, nor were they interested in pleasing him.  A person who had something specific in mind, but refused to tell one what it was and would get angry when the musicians did not guess properly, was the worst kind of audience.

    The silence lasted too long for Kiam, who spoke up.  ¡°Come now, surely you know other songs.¡±  The slight growl of impatience colored his voice, despite him trying to take a sweet tone.  ¡°Do you know any¡­.hm¡­.anything by classical composers?  Schubert?  Vivaldi?¡±

    Awkwardly looking at each other, they were not sure they could do what he was asking of them.  They knew a lot of classical music, but not how to play it from memory.  Not being virtuosos, they had a lot of practice before any of them would consider themselves good.  If he had asked them for Bach in G Major, that would have been easy enough.

    Thankfully, dad was a fan of Schubert.  He did have them practice one of his easier instrumentals.  ¡°Serenade?¡±  Claudia whispered.  Janet and Xavier nodded.  The song was complicated, but slow enough for an intermediate student to follow.  Had they practiced it enough?  Only one way to find out.  They lifted their bows and played.

    Music floated from the strings once more, filling the air with melodious sounds that would have pleased the long dead composer.  All three of them played without slipping or missing a note.  During practice, they did not play this well.  It surprised them, but the pressure of playing for a potentially hostile audience was all the motivation they needed.

    The song continued on for a few minutes.  Serenade was not a short tune, especially with the deliberate pace they chose.  Kiam did not seem to mind the slow tempo.  He was smiling, enjoying the music and waving his fingers to the tune.  His sense of rhythm was decent.  Eventually, he stood up.  The children worried he was about to approach them, but he came no closer.  Instead, he started to dance.  Swaying to the music and standing on his toes, he kept pace with light motions.  He was oddly graceful for a tall, bulky creature.  Gentle twirls and light steps.

    Well, he was probably going for ¡®graceful¡¯.  To three ten-year-olds, watching a dancing bear was more comical than awe inspiring.  Kiam pranced and pirouetted, and the children tried to keep playing despite all of the silliness that went with it.  After one bounce, Xavier could not help himself.  He slipped with his bow and laughed.  Light, happy laughter that any young boy was capable of to show they were terribly amused.

    Mid frolic, Kiam stopped.  His head snapped toward Xavier.  Abruptly, the laughter ended, along with the music.  Uncomfortable stillness hung in the air between bear and wolves.  The children froze up, unable to play or speak.  They did not know why he suddenly stopped dancing in favor of staring at Xavier.  Xavier could not read the bear¡¯s facial expression.  Kiam¡¯s mouth was a thin line, eyes locked on Xavier¡¯s face.  Finally, the bear spoke.  ¡°Why are you laughing, Xavier?¡±  His voice was stern and devoid of emotion.

    Xavier felt his heart sink.  There was no way he could tell Kiam why he was laughing.  ¡®You looked ridiculous prancing around like an idiot¡¯ was not an answer the bear wanted to hear.  No words came to Xavier¡¯s mind.  He looked to his sisters for help.

    Claudia, ever able to think on her feet, responded.  She started with a light, airy giggle that sounded strained.  One could only hope it passed off as natural.  She spoke.  ¡°We¡¯re just having so much fun playing that we laughed.  We thought you were having fun too, and that¡¯s why you were dancing.¡±  She folded her ears back.  ¡°Do we sound that bad?  We¡¯re sorry, but we¡¯re not very good yet¡­.¡±

    Kiam glanced at Claudia, then resumed staring at Xavier.  His head tilted and he said nothing.  Several seconds passed and Xavier felt every one of them.  He could count his heartbeats and his paws and feet felt cold.  Finally, the bear tilted his head and smiled.  ¡°Oh, ho ho ho¡­.of course¡­.it has been so long, I forgot how full of joyful laughter little kinder can be.¡±

    He walked over to Claudia and put a hand on her head.  She had to fight to keep from pulling away, but Xavier saw her wince.  He rubbed her headfur.  ¡°Such delights, all of you.  I am so glad my dancing has amused you.  Someday, I will teach you the art of the dance, though you are still too young for such adult things.¡±  He cupped a paw under Claudia¡¯s muzzle and lifted her head to look at him.  Xavier was glad it was not him he did this to, as he might not have been able to fight the urge to bite him.

    ¡°But, little girl, you should not be so hard on yourself.¡±  He waggled a finger with his free paw.  ¡°Do not insult your own talents so.  You may not be perfect, but your music is still beautiful, yes?  So no more of this ¡®not very good¡¯ business.  You will get better with time.¡±  He finally let go of Claudia¡¯s face.  He turned to walk away and she wiped her muzzle on her forepaws to get rid of the memory of his touch.  That must have made her feel dirty, but Xavier was glad she was there to take it.  He was not sure what would have happened if she had not covered for him.  A slight sense of shame came with that.  He was supposed to protect his sisters, not the other way around, but the situation demanded all of them watch out for each other.  He would have to let it pass.

    Kiam kept talking, interrupting Xavier¡¯s private musings.  ¡°But, I believe that¡¯s enough music for now.  I still have much to show you, little kinder.  It is time to go outside.¡±  He turned around and wore that slightly disingenuous smile they saw several times before.  ¡°Stay close.  Some of the plants in my garden are quite poisonous, so no sampling without permission.  And no wandering off either.¡±

    Outside?  Good.  Anything was better than being in here.  Xavier smiled.  He knew his sisters were thinking what he was thinking.  Was the bear seriously dumb enough to let them out already?  Overconfident?  Whatever it was, it would work to their advantage.  The triplets left the room, eager to be shown out.

    ¡°All right, all right, so eager to get outside!  You truly are little wolves.¡±  Kiam laughed as he turned the deadbolt on his front door.  The triplets tried not to seem eager, but ten-year-olds have a lot of trouble hiding their emotional state.  Xavier thought he was doing well because his tail was not wagging.  ¡°Just make sure you stay close, yes?  I do not want you wandering off.¡±

    Sure, Xavier would be sure to get right on that.  Eyes locked on the door, the triplets waited like dogs waiting to be let outside.  Full of eagerness and barely able to wait for the door to open.  The second the door was open wide enough to let a wolf sized object out, the triplets bolted.  They did not look back.  They barely heard Kiam merrily chuckle as they went.  After clearing the door, they headed right for the tree line.  They did not care about the direction.  All that mattered was putting distance between themselves and the bear¡¯s isolated home.

    Trees flew by them as they made it out of the clearing.  The cabin was behind them.  Xavier glanced ahead to make sure his sisters were with him.  He deliberately slowed his pace to allow them ahead of him, just in case Kiam decided to follow.  Both of them were there; Claudia to his left and Janet to his right.  The next look was behind him to make sure they were not being followed.  A glance showed him nothing but trees.  He could not even see the clearing anymore.  They had to have been far away.  Good.

    ¡°Keep running!¡±  Xavier yelled.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡±  Claudia panted as her legs pumped along the ground.  Nothing stealthy about it.  They were going for speed.

    ¡°We can figure it out later!¡±  He responded.

    ¡°Is he following us?¡±  Janet did not look back.  Maybe a little clumsy, maybe a little cautious, but she did not want to trip.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t see him, but I don¡¯t want to.  We have to get far away!¡±  Xavier¡¯s legs burned, but did not feel tired.  Fatigue was for those who were not running for their lives.

    Up ahead, the forest seemed denser.  The trees were almost hemmed in.  It almost seemed darker somehow.  Familiar, maybe?  It was a little disorienting not knowing where they were and running anyway, but he kept going.  They ran and ran and ran.  Then, a sudden brightness assailed them as the path opened up.  The sudden shift brought them all to a halt.  Three wolves skidded to a stop, with Janet slipping and falling on her forelegs.

    They were in a forest clearing, one wide enough to accommodate a cozy cabin.  It had a garden full of beautiful plants, both familiar and exotic.  Rustic and well maintained, the cabin had the look of being fashioned by hand with beautifully carved shutters flanking the windows and a roof made of wooden planks.  At first, the triplets thought they came upon someone who could help them.  A kindly woodcutter or hunter, like something out of a fairy tale, to save them from the beast chasing them through the forest.  That hope died when they noticed Kiam standing before the cabin.

    He laughed in a way that sounded both merry and mirthless.  The laughter of someone who caught someone after they failed at being clever.

    ¡°I told you, little kinder.¡±  He began.  ¡°Do not run off.  You¡¯re lucky I was able to guide you back so easily.  You would not have liked it if I had to go into the forest to collect you.¡±  He continued to walk toward them.  Xavier scooted back and looked behind him.  He contemplated running again, but the path they came from was gone.  Brambles and thistles seemed to sprout from nothing behind them, filling the gaps between the trees with sharp points.

    ¡°This is my forest now.  It will one day be yours, but for now, I have mastery over it.¡±  The bear stood before them.  He moved down to one knee to get closer to them.  ¡°And nothing in it escapes my notice.¡±  He reached down and grabbed Xavier by the muzzle.  The young wolf yelped as he was pulled to look up him.

    ¡°Likewise, you are my kinder now¡­.and you belong to me.  I love you, little ones, but that does not mean I will not punish you if you misbehave.  So, no more running off, and no more talking back.  Especially you, little Xavier.¡±

    Xavier squirmed in the bear¡¯s grip.  Eyes wide, he was terrified but would not admit it.  The look in Kiam¡¯s eyes was not one of a loving parent, but one of someone who would crush your skull if you did not do as he asked.  Kiam let him go and Xavier gasped, realizing he had been holding his breath the entire time.

    Kiam smiled.  ¡°Now, let¡¯s see that garden, shall we?¡±  He said as he gestured toward the collection of plants by his home.  ¡°I have such things to show you, now follow me¡­.yes, this way.¡±

 8. Deer Heads and the News Shows the Way.

    Two days passed since Kiam placed the triplets in his care.  Thankfully, after the escape attempt, things were uneventful.  Uncomfortable, but uneventful.

    Time passed slowly, despite the children always having something to do.  A nervous, walking-on-eggshells feeling persisted whenever they were around Kiam and he rarely let them out of his sight.  He let them outside to play and help with his garden, but was always nearby to watch them.  When inside, he told them stories or prepared food for them.  There was always something to do, especially since he had chores for them.  They did not mind chores, not at all, mostly due to it giving them something to focus on besides the bear¡¯s attempts to teach them.

    He had a lot to say and many things to show them.  He rambled endlessly about nature, wildlife, living in harmony with the soil, hunting and farming, how the weak should fear the strong, how modern society was garbage, and his patron ¡®goddess¡¯.  Bloviating nonstop about the Mutter des Bodens, which made the children increasingly uncomfortable.  A Pagan idol right out of the pages of the Old Testament blended with environmentalism.  She made the rain fall.  She created the animals.  Mankind was corrupted by moving away from nature and, in turn, corrupted nature with pollution.  Secret knowledge was required to know her, as well as giving up all the trappings of modern society, which caught Xavier as cult-like.   That dismayed him even further; being kidnapped by a cult leader.  To the triplets, this was increasingly obvious.  It was not as disturbing as the other aspect of her mentioned.

    Sacrifice.  She demanded sacrifice.  Whenever the bear talked about that, Xavier felt a cold lump in the pit of his stomach.  While Kiam was vague about the specifics, he was sure to assure them that he would never sacrifice his ¡®beloved kinder¡¯ to her.  That was for ¡®lesser creatures¡¯.  Hollow assurance that did little to put his young mind at ease.

    Animal sacrifice was not a concept foreign to Xavier.  The Bible mentioned it multiple times.  In ancient Israel, they sacrificed animals to temporarily atone for the sins of the people, honor God, and provide substance for the Levites to live on.  Never anything sentient, no humans or animals capable of speech.  Only feral things, in addition to cereal and drink offerings.  After the cross, that was no longer needed, as Jesus paid their sin debt forever.

    When Kiam brought up sacrifice, it brought to mind children passing through the flames to appease Moloch.  The Aztecs sacrificing people atop their ziggurats in order to keep the sun rising every day.  Sacrifices to appease the jealous and mercurial gods of the ancient Romans.  Xavier was only ten years old, but was not so isolated from public discourse to be unfamiliar with common knowledge of the day.  Even outside of the Bible, sacrificing living beings, even non sentient ones, to appease gods was viewed as needless at best and barbaric at worst.  Kiam would disagree and take being seen as barbaric by the ¡®soft handed, malformed city dwellers¡¯ as a source of pride.  His deliberate vagueness on the topic made it even worse.

    Little conversation occurred between the triplets and Kiam at the moment, as they were on a walk.  They had been on several of them with him over the past two days, preferring to roam his forest in the nice weather.  That suited the triplets just fine; the forest was far less creepy than being inside that bear¡¯s weird-smelling cabin.

    It was nice being outside, even if they could not run away.  The first attempt put that idea out of their minds.  The bear gave them that attempt for free.  He made it clear that the consequences would be far more dire if they attempted it again.  The disorienting feeling, the fear of it all, lodged itself so deep into Xavier¡¯s memory he had nightmares about it the past two nights.  Everyone had childhood dreams of running from a monster, only to loop back around and come face to face with it right before waking up.  A reality for Xavier, one he could not wake from.  Kiam called this HIS forest for a reason.  He had full control over it, and claimed everything in it.  He made sure the children knew this.

    An unexpected bonus, Kiam was mostly quiet during these walks.  Normally, he talked endlessly in an attempt to teach ¡®his¡¯ children everything he knew.  During their long walks, he preferred to listen to ¡®the sound of nature¡¯ and encouraged the triplets to do the same.  They complied, but not to listen to nature.  While they whispered to each other about certain things, as children often did, they tried their best to talk to him as little as possible.  Kiam was within earshot at all times and saying something to set him off was best avoided at all costs.  Since they were not entirely sure what would prompt a rapid degeneration in his mood, they kept it simple and gave one word answers whenever he did speak to them.  They heard someone once say ¡®children should be seen and not heard.¡±  From how calm this kept the bear, they could infer that he agreed.

    Not talking gave Janet plenty of time to work on pinecone deer heads as they walked.  Being quadrupedal, she had to wait until Kiam stopped to look around, or admire some plants, or sniff the air.  He seemed to do it often, so she had plenty of opportunities.  They were not too hard to make.  A few twigs, a couple of pebbles for eyes.  Bend the cone scales out to stick things in to make an approximation of a cervine head with antlers.  She hung them on trees as best as she could as they passed.  Yesterday, she managed five of them.  Today, she was up to four.  Doing it was easy; doing it without Kiam noticing was harder.  They were not sure how he would take them doing something unusual.  He might even speculate that they were leaving a trail for their parents to find them.  Best keep it hidden.

    However, being kids, guile was not in their nature.  Janet just hung pinecone deer number five when Kiam stopped.  He turned his head just enough to look back at her.  ¡°What are you doing there, little Janet?¡±  He asked with an upraised eyebrow.

    Every muscle in Janet¡¯s body froze.  A pinecone deer head dangled from her paw as she held it up to a low hanging tree branch.  It swayed in the gentle forest breeze; she was hoping to hang it there without the bear noticing.  He noticed.

    ¡°¡­.are you going to answer me?  I have asked you a question.¡±  The bear¡¯s tone shifted slightly.  A little deeper, with an edge of impatience.

    ¡°We¡¯re hanging up deer heads.  For the¡­wolves.¡±  Claudia responded.  Janet looked at her, confused at first, but only for a second.  She knew a good answer when she heard one and nodded quickly.

    ¡°¡­..for the wolves?¡±  Kiam tilted his head.  He plodded over to the triplets.  Janet and Claudia both fought to keep from backing away.  A standard caution from a child who was unsure of whether or not an adult was about to hurt them.  As of yet, Kiam had not struck any of them.  Raised his voice, sure.  Postured and scared them, but not hit them.  They felt he was not above it.  However, backing away would be a sign of guilt.  They were not going to betray anything like that to him.  And it was not entirely a lie.  They were hanging them up for the wolves, but more for a couple of very specific wolves.

    ¡°Uh huh.¡±  Claudia nodded.  ¡°Wolves like deer.  So we¡¯re putting some up.¡±

    ¡°Yeah.¡±  Janet faked a smile.

    Kiam rubbed his chin, regarding their words.  Each triplet felt each beat of their hearts.  Then, the bear smiled.  Then let out a short, merry laugh.  ¡°I see!¡±  He leaned down and gently took the pinecone from Janet¡¯s paw.  She slipped back from him, perhaps, a little too quickly.

    Shifting the wooden bowl of strange, ruby-red fruits into his left arm, he held the pinecone above the branch.  ¡°You are hanging hunting effigies, is that it?¡±

    Xavier had no idea what an effigy was.  He nodded anyway.  ¡°Yeah, hunting effergies.  Those.¡±

    ¡°Hah!  Perhaps the soft handed ones have not got to you so much yet, yes?  While these are not much good without magic, I¡¯m sure the Mutter des Bodens will smile upon such things.  She does like the old ways.¡±  He hung it on a branch.  ¡°Someday, I will teach you to enchant such things that will draw in all the deer you could possibly eat.¡±

    Xavier¡¯s stomach did a flip.  Like his parents, the triplets were pescatarians.  With all the sentient deer out there, they could not bring themselves to hunt them down, for fear of accidentally killing the wrong one.  Even though they looked different, the risk was too great.  They looked just similar enough that mistakes were possible.  He did not nod his assent, opting to stare blankly at Kiam instead.

    The bear took no notice.  ¡°I encourage you to make effigies of other things too, not just deer.  It will be good practice as you are learning to be proper predators.¡±  He straightened the pinecone head on the branch.  ¡°We cannot stay here all day.  Come come, kinder, follow me.¡±  With plodding steps, he continued down the forest path.  The children followed.

    They wound the rest of the way to their destination in silence.  Kiam had nothing to say and the children had nothing to tell him.   They did not stop long enough for Janet to make any more pinecone deer heads; lupine nerves still a little too shaken to make them.

    The path terminated in a small clearing.  The first thing Xavier noticed as they approached was the smell.  Rotting fruit baskets; a variety of fruit that was so far past their prime they were turning into liquid.  This mingled with something worse that Xavier could almost find familiarity with, but not quite.  It was kind of like when they walked by the alley behind the meat market on a hot day.  Xavier poked his head in once and the smell washed over him like a fetid blanket.  Vaguely, he recalled having to dart back out and fight to keep his lunch from escaping his body through his mouth.  Never again.  The smells were faint as they approached the clearing, but was overpowering here.  Drops of water formed on the edges of his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.  Children had strong noses, wolves moreso, and this scent occupied almost all of Xavier¡¯s senses.  He could practically taste the decaying fruit and putrefied animal remains.

    Blinking away the tears, he looked to his sisters.  Their eyes were watering too, but they were not looking at him.  Eyes cast upward at something else in the clearing.  It was Xavier¡¯s turn to look.

    At first, he was not sure what he was looking at.  A large figure of some sort, made of bundled together branches, hay, plant stalks, and all manner of miscellaneous plant fibers.  Looking at it closer, it was shaped like a human.  A human with the wrong shape, but still a human.  It was very tall, towering over Kiam by a good five feet.  It had large arms made out of tree branches, with the branches extending out into a semi-circle.  It gave the appearance of attempting to wrap its arms around the clearing.  Even worse was the ends of the branches looked uncannily hand-like.  The branches broadened and terminated in five extremely long digits.  The figure¡¯s feet were roots that extended into the ground, but it did not look like it grew from the ground.  Rather, the roots extended from it into the earth.  Placed there like an unsightly parasite that was rooted to the forest and attempting to either take it over or drain it of life and replace it with its own.

    The limbs were disturbing enough.  Then Xavier got a closer look at the body and head.  The body was not all plant matter.  A glint of bone, a tuft of fur, and a paw caught his eye.  Woven into the trunk was an amalgamation of animals.  Through wide eyes, Xavier noted a wolf¡¯s pelt, a random assortment of legs, antlers and hooves, entire squirrels and partially decayed rabbits.

    His eyes finally settled on the head.  A bear¡¯s skull sat atop a wooden orb carved like a human face.  The features were blurry, but that might not have been Kiam¡¯s intention.  Xavier could not bear to look at it long.  Looking at it too long made him feel an overwhelming sense of wrongness, so he pulled his eyes away.  His stomach lurched and churned.  Through it all, he saw Kiam.  He was smiling.  Of course he was smiling.

    ¡°Hush, little kinder.  You may watch, but papa must do this ritual properly to honor her.  I will not abide distractions.¡±  He spoke and held aloft the bowl of fruit.  He said something in a language the children did not recognize.  Before their eyes, the fruit shriveled away, as if being drained of life.

    Claudia and Janet screamed.  Xavier still heard them, even though he was screaming too.

    ¡°It¡¯s been four days.  Four days and that¡¯s all you have?¡±  Marcus tried to temper his anger into simple disappointment to avoid screaming at the detective.  So far, it was working, but took considerable effort.

    ¡°Sir, I¡¯m going to have to ask you to calm down.¡±  The detective replied in the tone of a bored schoolmarm.  ¡°I understand your frustration, but getting angry at me is not helpful.  Rein it in.¡±

    Marcus was not angry yet, but that statement got him closer.  He looked down at the diminutive chipmunk standing on top of the table in the interview room.  His office was far too small for Marcus to even stick his head in comfortably.  Even for a chipmunk, Detective Kite was short.  The purple paisley shirt was too big on him and the off-red tie too long.  Every time they encountered him, he was wearing bright colors.  It was almost distracting, but they were too polite to say anything.  Right now, however, Marcus felt the urge to bite him.  He suppressed it.  The wolf took in a deep breath and let it out.

    ¡°Sorry, detective.  Hoped you had good news.  Disappointed that you haven¡¯t¡­..¡±  Done your jobs, Marcus thought.  ¡°¡­.found anything.  Even a clue.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand¡­.¡±  Diane cut in.  The white wolf sat close to Marcus.  Very close.  Plenty of room in the interview area, but she wanted to stay close enough to her husband that their fur touched.  After losing the triplets, she never wanted to be far from her loved ones.  She was not even comfortable leaving Ronald and Cecilia home alone.  ¡°You¡¯ve been combing the forest for days.  There are no clues?  You must¡¯ve found something!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m getting to that, if you¡¯d just let me speak.¡±  The chipmunk huffed.  He looked from Diane to Marcus with a scowl that might have unnerved his underlings, but only exasperated the wolves.  He was not going to talk to them unless they gave him undivided attention and only spoke when necessary, so they kept silent and let him go on.

    ¡°Like I was saying, we¡¯ve been combing the forest with whatever officers we can spare while avoiding disrupting the general population.¡±  Kite held up his paws and nodded sagely.  ¡°Nothing so far, but we¡¯re confident we¡¯ll find more later.  Thank you for coming in.  We¡¯ll call you when we have something.¡±  He turned to trot off the desk and go back to whatever he was doing.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    That was it?  No, unacceptable.  Marcus was not letting him walk away like that.  ¡°Wait, I have more questions.¡±  The chipmunk paused and looked back at him.  His face was small, but the glower was unmistakable.  ¡°Please.  Just a few more minutes of your time.¡±

    Detective Kite almost turned around again.  He looked like he was about to say something dismissive and go on his way.  It might have been his conscience, or that Marcus was a very rich, prominent member of society, but he decided to stay.  Not gladly.  He let out a long, weary sigh; really selling the whole ¡®I¡¯m wasting my time on you because I¡¯m a good person at heart¡¯ thing.

    ¡°Okay, Mr. Avery.  I can answer your questions.  It¡¯s my civic duty to help grieving parents any way I can; especially when their children are still out there, being lost or kidnapped or whatever.¡±  That was forced, but Marcus would take it.  People were not machines; one could not program them to have a good attitude.  He sat down on the table and looked up at him.  ¡°Go ahead.¡±

    Temper your words with the spirit, Marcus.  Getting upset with someone dismissive of your plight will not help.  ¡°Where¡¯s your team looked?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±  The detective¡¯s eyes narrowed.

    Ignore his irritation.  This was important.  ¡°We¡¯re searching for them too.  If we know where you¡¯ve looked, we can cover more ground.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re looking too?¡±  Detective Kite frowned and tilted his head.  ¡°No, don¡¯t do that anymore.  You¡¯ll get in our way and undermine the investigation.¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t get in the way.  You said you didn¡¯t have enough officers.¡±  Diane added.

    ¡°I never said that.¡±  The chipmunk responded.

    The wolves looked at each other.  He was technically correct.  Diane spoke up.  ¡°You implied it. Said you were using the officers you can spare.  That means you don¡¯t have enough, right?¡±

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter for a bunch of reasons.¡±  Detective Kite shook his head.  ¡°For one thing, we do have enough officers for the most part.  We¡¯re hiring more as we speak.  We just have to be careful, because we want a diverse force.¡±

    He held up two fingers.  ¡°For another, we don¡¯t want to cause a panic among the good people of Pleasant Valley.  If we had the entire fleet of officers out pounding through the woods, people will get nervous.  They might think their kids will be next.  Or their husbands or wives or lovers or whatever else.  They might even think the police can¡¯t protect them and that¡¯s bad.¡±

    ¡°Thirdly, we have to think of community outreach.  In the past, the police have disproportionately affected disadvantaged communities.  Seeing a lot of officers out there might make the horses shift uneasily in their pens and the wolves¡­.¡±  The chipmunk looked at Diane and Marcus, cleared his throat, then looked away.  ¡°I mean¡­other wolves, they might get scared seeing all those uniformed officers running around.  We have to think of them too.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡­.¡±  Diane began before the detective cut her off.

    ¡°But don¡¯t worry.  We have a lot of officers doing community outreach these days.  I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard of our ¡®toys for knives¡¯ program.¡±  He puffed up his chest.  ¡°And the ¡®do your makeup with a detective¡¯ initiative.  That one was my idea.¡±

    Marcus made a decision.  He would do everything he could to never learn more about the ¡®do your makeup with a detective¡¯ initiative.  ¡°Are all of those really necessary?  I mean, what if whoever took our kids comes back?  What if¡­.¡±  Marcus felt his heart speed up.  ¡°What if he¡¯s hurt them?  We haven¡¯t heard anything from whoever did this.  No ransom, no calls, no letters¡­.¡±

    ¡°It is kind of weird¡­.¡±  The detective rubbed his chin.  ¡°But, if he hasn¡¯t done any of that, that probably means the children are fine.  For now.  It wouldn¡¯t make sense for someone to just take kids and not ask for something from the parents.  Usually, it¡¯s someone who is doing it for money.  Kidnap some rich guy¡¯s little brats and¡­.¡±  He looked up at Marcus and his face turned a little red.  He knew he said something offensive, but Marcus was too focused on things that actually mattered to be offended.

    ¡°But, what if he¡­..¡±  Marcus began, only to be cut off again.

    ¡°How do you know it¡¯s he?¡±  The chipmunk raised an eyebrow.

    Wait, was he getting angry over Marcus assuming something about the evil person who stole his children?  What kind of detective was he?  ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±  A slow ripple of heat spread behind Marcus¡¯ eyes.  Anger.  Not productive, but hard to stop.  ¡°I was implying that whoever it is might be insane and might not fit your profiling.  What if¡­.¡±

    ¡°Unlikely.  Everyone fits a profile.¡±  The chipmunk rolled his eyes.  ¡°There¡¯s a category for every type of criminal.  I wouldn¡¯t expect to know that, not having a master¡¯s degree in criminal justice.  I did my capstone project on child abuse in religious communities, so I think I know a little something about kidnapping.¡±  He smirked.  ¡°And you should know how dangerous it is to falsely accuse someone of a crime, considering you were on the receiving end years ago.  I read your case file too.  That mob wanted you dead for something you didn¡¯t do.  Forgot it already?  Do you want to set some random guy on fire because he might have kidnapped your kids?¡±

    Marcus peeled back his lips and showed his teeth.  Now he was angry.  A callously indifferent detective, one who should have been out there looking for his kids, was trying to tell him that he was the bad guy?  Simply for saying that the kidnapper might have been a bad person who was beyond the chipmunk¡¯s narrow worldview to fit into an academic box.

    Diane was a good wife.  She spoke before Marcus could tell the chipmunk exactly where he could stick his ¡®master¡¯s degree in criminal justice¡¯.  ¡°We both know you¡¯ll find the right¡­..¡±  The detective was one of those.  Do not use too much gendered language.  ¡°¡­person.  The one responsible for this.  What can we do to help?¡±

    The chipmunk seemed mollified.  He crossed his arms.  ¡°You can go home and wait for the kidnapper to contact you.  Then call us.  That will give us the lead we¡¯re looking for.  Nothing else.  This is a police matter now.  We¡¯ll handle it.  You have two other kids who need your attention.  I¡¯d focus on them.  It¡¯s what I¡¯d do if I had any kids.¡±

    Marcus still felt like screaming at him.  Maybe not the right thing to do, but it felt justified.  Diane was not finished.  ¡°What about those flowers I brought you?  The ones from the park.¡±  She asked.

    ¡°Hm?¡±  Another head tilt from the chipmunk.  Then it hit him.  ¡°Oh, those things.  They¡¯re just normal flowers.  No drugs.  No poisons.  Nothing.  The lab couldn¡¯t detect a thing on them.¡±

    ¡°But, they opened right before I lost consciousness.  Something isn¡¯t right about them.¡±

    ¡°If there were any drugs, the lab would¡¯ve found them.  You¡¯re probably misremembering it.  Trauma can do that.¡±  The chipmunk shrugged.  ¡°You probably fell asleep because you¡¯re a tired mom with too many kids.  The guilt you felt about losing them got attached to some flowers you saw before you fell asleep.  It happens.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m telling you, there¡¯s something about those flowers!¡±  Now Diane was the one riled.  ¡°I¡¯m telling you¡­.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯m telling you they¡¯re normal flowers.¡±  The detective scowled.  ¡°Don¡¯t blame this on me.  I¡¯m not the bad guy here.  You¡¯re guilty you let your kids get taken, but that¡¯s not my fault.¡±

    Marcus was still angry, but he felt it sort of¡­.fade.  For some reason, he felt bad for the little chipmunk.  He was inept and useless and did not even know it.  How could someone get mad at a clown?  He chuckled and shook his head.  ¡°You don¡¯t know anything.¡±  He said simply.

    Detective Kite blinked.  ¡°What?¡±  He asked.

    ¡°Let us know if you find anything.  Have a nice day, detective.¡±  Marcus nudged his wife, indicating it was time to go.

    ¡°¡­.all right.  I know that look.¡±  The chipmunk stood up and shook a finger.  ¡°If you go looking for your kids, stay out of our way.  If you interfere with police business, I¡¯m not above locking you up.  This is my case and I won¡¯t let you mess it up for me.¡±

    ¡°We won¡¯t.¡±  Was all Marcus said before walking out.

    Cecilia and Ronald were waiting for them in the lobby.  The wolves collected them without a word.  Once they were out of the police station, Diane hugged her husband tight, not knowing what else to do.  The squirrels did the same; children knew when their parents were hurting.

    ¡°They¡¯re not going to help us, are they?¡±  Diane stated.

    ¡°No, but they¡¯ll think they are and feel good about it.¡±  Marcus growled.  ¡°Can¡¯t believe it¡¯s come to this.  If you can¡¯t expect the police to help, where else can you go?¡±

    ¡°I know Someone who can help¡­.¡±  Cecilia looked up at her mother with a smile.

    It only took a half second for them to know to Whom she referred.

    Marcus chuckled.  ¡°When everything else is exhausted, might as well ask the most powerful being in all the universe if He can help.¡±

    ¡°The God who would leave the 99 to go after the one will help us.  I know He will.¡±  Diane responded.  ¡°We¡¯ve been praying every night, but we should pray right now.  All of us.  Together.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s good to be able to pray in public again¡­..I missed it.¡±  Ronald smiled.

    Marcus nodded.  ¡°Yes.  Not in front of the door, though.  We won¡¯t get in anyone¡¯s way.  But now is the right time.¡±

    The four of them slipped out of the way and knelt on the pavement.  They felt the Lord¡¯s presence.  The Holy Spirit, the councilor and comforter.  Some would have said they should have waited until they were at home.  They wanted to speak to God right now, while everything was still fresh in their minds.  They bowed their heads and Marcus spoke.

    ¡°Heavenly Father, we come before you as a family.  Broken and hopeless, we humbly plead with you in our time of need.  Please, Father God, send someone to help us.  Someone to get our children back.  Guide us and comfort us, and watch over our lost children.  Keep them safe¡­..¡±  They continued to pray as a family.  Praying with all of their hearts and keeping that hope.  Praying for strength.  Praying for help.  They knew it was in God¡¯s hands.

    David¡¯s body burned.  His arms burned.  His legs burned.  His chest and head burned.  Everything around him burned.  The heat washed over him, every part erupting in pain as the flames danced across his skin.  No matter how much it burned and how badly it hurt, no matter how much time passed, his flesh was never consumed.  The flames never diminished and, somehow, he knew they never would.  In this lake of fire he would stay.  The flames would never be quenched; not tomorrow and not for all of eternity.

    David¡¯s head snapped upwards and his eyes opened.  Springing to his feet in a blur, he looked around to gauge where he was.  Eyes wide and staring, it took him several seconds to remember.  The same alley he went to sleep in, curled against a comfortableish wall, partially obscured by some dumpsters.  Far enough out of the way to reduce the likelihood of any foot traffic disturbing his sleep.

    It was that dream again.  Second time this month.  David shook his head to clear the remnants out.  Months ago, he listened in to part of the sermon at Nathan¡¯s church.  David never attended; he saw no reason to.  Any God that allowed this much evil to operate was either too indifferent to warrant worship or too weak to do anything about it.  He refused to acknowledge such a God, no matter how much strength the belief gave his friend.  It was his policy not to comment on it, as the imaginary was irrelevant to his fight against evil.  The one part that mentioned eternity in a lake of fire stuck with him, despite his best efforts to dispel it.  A fitting end for evildoers, but not a hero.  He was not sure why he kept dreaming about it.  Ignoring it was difficult, but doable.  Push it out of your mind, hero.  Think about what matters.  The bear.  The victims.  The punishing of those who did evil.  That is your purpose, not speculating about the afterlife, if there even was one.

    Feeling restless and wired after a nightmare induced adrenaline surge, he decided to forgo breakfast until his stomach settled.  He picked up his backpack and slung it over his shoulders before walking out of the alley.  No matter how unsettled he was, he never forgot his backpack.  It contained all his possessions, so leaving it behind was not an option.  Behavior like this was common to any homeless person.

    David rounded the corner and checked the sky.  The sun was just starting to come up and the street lights were still on.  It was early enough the streets were deserted.  Most still occupied their beds; not ready to give up on sleep and face the day.  Day five into occupying this realm and he had a feel for the rhythm of the world.

    The food was all right.  He had some salmon steaks the previous day; purchased with some money from this world gained through selling a small gold disc.  Nathan gave him a couple of the nondescript, two-ounce discs to trade in.  Common practice dictated one did not want to go to a new world with money and coins bearing markings from other worlds.  Too suspicious and unlikely to be accepted as legal tender.  Nearly every world valued gold.

    What David liked less about the salmon steaks was what they were seasoned with.  The only store open at night was one that only served marinated meats.  The lemon/black pepper/chipotle/turmeric/grapefruit blend left a film in his mouth.  It had the mass-produced flavor of cheap jerky.  Unpalatable, even for someone who could safely eat rotting food.  He turned and walked into a nearby laundromat.  They always had public restrooms where he could wash out his mouth.

    Empty, but not quiet, the laundromat had no people but televisions left on at high volume.  David looked from left to right and sniffed the air.  Detergent, dryer sheets, old linen, new linen, bleach, body soil, dander from various animals, but nothing fresh.  Alone, good.  Alone meant no threats.

    The bathroom was in the back, judging by the sign on a door with ¡®all species restroom-men¡¯s¡¯ written on it.  On the way to it, a news bulletin on the nearest ceiling-mounted television caught his attention.  Sometimes, the local news was a good source of information, but those incidences were rare.  Still, no harm in listening and something in the back of his mind told him this was important.

    On screen was a female otter with wavy black hair and a red bow in it.  The bow was her only article of clothing.  In this world of sentient animals, clothing rules were pretty loose.  The long headfur was more than a little unusual, so David assumed this was a wig.  She was standing in front of a park.  Swing sets and a slide were behind her.  No children.  She spoke into a microphone with an 8 written on it.

    ¡°I¡¯m here at Mercer Park, the last place where the Avery triplets were seen before their disappearance.¡±  She made a sweeping gesture at the park, pointing out the place where the triplets would be if they were not kidnapped.  ¡°It¡¯s been over five days since they went missing.  The only question is, why?¡±  She walked to the side and the camera followed her.  She was now standing in a spot where the forest and field were in the background.  No playground equipment to be seen.  ¡°Why would the children run away?  How could Pleasant Valley¡¯s most successful, prominent citizens let their children out of their sight long enough for them to run away?  Why would children who have everything run away in the first place?¡±  She adjusted her hair.  David swore he saw the entire hairline shift, as a solid unit, on top of her head.  ¡°Marcus and Diane Avery, the children¡¯s parents, have a different theory.  They believe their children were kidnapped.  Being prominent figures in Pleasant Valley¡¯s prosthetics and robotics industries, that cannot be ruled out.  Police are pursuing the investigation, but currently have no leads, motive, or suspects in the case.  The investigation is ongoing, and it¡¯s certainly possible that a former business associate or customer could be responsible.  No one is that successful without making enemies or stepping on people to get where they are.¡±

    She gestured downward.  The cameraman, as if taking that for a cue, moved the camera down.  Scattered at the otter¡¯s feet were several red flowers with gold accents.  That mattered more than the wig.  As if realizing the mistake, the cameraman snapped the camera back up to focus on the newscaster.

    ¡°With no evidence, however, one can only speculate.  Were the children kidnapped?  Did they run away?  Was there an accident and the Averys are covering it up?  No one knows for sure.  But, you can be sure that we¡¯ll do everything we can to expose the truth behind this heinous crime.  I¡¯m Katrina Courtney with Channel 8 news.  Back to you, Francis and Morgan.¡±

    Flowers.  Familiar flowers.  Familiar flowers and missing children.  David would recognize those flowers anywhere.  Those flowers could have been native to this world, but unlikely.  Even if they were, this was the best lead David had to go on at present.  The fake-looking otter mentioned Pleasant Valley, so that was where he would go.

    He checked a generic road map he picked up for free at a convenience store.  David could not read words very well, but could read maps.  If he started walking now, it would take a day and a half to get there.  One day if he hurried.  It was time to hurry.

    He folded up the map and promptly left the laundromat.  Everything else could wait.  Time lost meant kids lost and a hero should always prioritize saving children.