Guardian Hound (13 page)

But Olan wasn't there.

Bernardo's viper soul stirred. Did he not trust Gezane? Or was his viper half merely anxious to go?

Gezane had spent his life in the outside world. He knew how to navigate it. Maybe he could be a good guide.

And maybe Bernardo could teach him some things as well, like patience and prayers.

Slowly, Bernardo replied, “I don't have to travel to Calcutta alone,” his voice full of gravel.

The young man's glee was as bright as the golden light still streaming through the temple windows, bright enough to dim Bernardo's questions and regrets.

# # #

The sound of a great crowd floated above Bernardo and Gezane as they approached the market. When they turned a corner, the noise exploded into a cacophony greater than the jungle during the growing season. Everywhere Bernardo looked strode the people of Guatemala City: grandmothers with their loaded baskets, young mothers riding herd on their passel of children, even packs of young men on the prowl.

“Why are there so many people?” Bernardo asked Gezane, stopping in the middle of the street. He was disgusted by the quaver in his voice. When had he turned into this querulous old man? He tramped down on his fear, but it kept rising back up, like a boiling pot with an ill-fitting lid.

“This is a normal crowd,” Gezane said derisively.

Bernardo flinched, but he kept his hand wrapped around the young man's biceps.
Gezane's
pulse fluttered under his fingertips, and the young man kept starting and looking over his shoulder.

He was nervous as well, though he'd never admit it.

Bernardo had no idea what Gezane could be scared of here. But he knew better than to say anything. Gezane would just push him away, maybe abandon him here amidst all this chaos.

They walked ahead through the crowded street, bypassing the market and going directly to the docks beyond. The tall buildings made of brick with grand windows and stonework gave way to squat wooden sheds and the stench of open sewers. Automobiles roared on the next street. As if in response, the lone wail of a train called out. Long piers ran out into the water, with great ships, large and angular, waited like floating temples, accepting their acolytes and their tithed goods.

“Which way?” Bernardo asked, looking up and down the waterfront. Their boat, heading down to Panama City, was docked at pier fifteen.

“How should I know?” Gezane snapped. Then he turned and looked at Bernardo. “I'm sorry,
Diácono
,” he said softly. “I don't know why I keep saying things like that.” He looked scared, pale under his tanned skin.

“We are neither of us ourselves,” Bernardo said. He'd felt an uncomfortable pressure, as if his skin was too tight and needed to be shed, since they'd left the temple.

Gezane looked up and down the street, taking a deep breath, then he flashed a grin at Bernardo. “Let's ask,” he said.

Bernardo shook his head but followed after Gezane, who'd been adamant that they never ask anyone for help for most of their trip.

When they inquired which direction their dock lay with a pair of day laborers who were slopping whitewash on a decrypted store front, they were directed further north.

Bernardo heaved a huge sigh upon sighting the faded, weathered sign for their dock. “We made the first leg,” he said. He felt a smile crack his face, and realized the good humor had recently been as rare as sunshine during the rainy season.

“We did,” Gezane said. “The ship should be easier,” he added quietly.

Bernardo nodded. He paused, then made himself ask, “Do you feel it too? The pressure?”

Instead of snapping at him, Gezane gave a sharp nod. “As if the air fights us.”

An involuntary shiver passed across Bernardo's shoulders, as if cool vines were suddenly drawn against his bare skin. He'd thought it had been only him, out of his element, traveling so far from his home.

Suddenly, Bernardo's viper soul rose and twined around his human soul. He stopped and looked around. Was there something on the pier? Something threatening?

No one was close enough to see, so Bernardo encouraged his viper soul to rise more. Color drained out of the world and the broad wooden boards beneath his feet grew gray like driftwood. The smell of salty water and dusky seaweed rose, overwhelming the scents of the unclean city.

Horror slammed into Bernardo, as solid as Olan's fist, when the darkness near the entrance to the ship resolved into wisps of shadows, wrapped around the raised stumps decorating the edges of the pier.

They were waiting for them—watchers. Scouts.

Bernardo glanced behind him. No, not scouts. Shadows pressed in, all around him.

Had he opened the door to them with his prophesy? Is that why they hounded him, unseen, unbeknownst to him?

And Gezane, he amended, when he saw the young man looking back at him, his fear as dark as the shadows draped over his shoulders.

Bernardo sent a quick plea to the gods to help them both.

But he knew that the gods rarely answered anyone's prayers.

Bernardo shook off his viper's gaze and marched down the pier. The fear and age he'd been feeling weren't his. They came from his enemy, the shadows, who were trying to cloud his mind, distract him from his mission.

“It's going to be all right,” he assured Gezane, his old strength returning. Seeing the shadows—knowing they were there, that it wasn't just him—had helped him return to himself.

Gezane stood up straighter, the cruel lines leaving his face, the cunning returning. “Yes, it will be,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

They were going to have to fight off the shadows, who were watching their very thoughts.

Though he couldn't see them, Bernardo knew the shadows had drawn back. They were all right, now.

But for how long?

# # #

Bernardo's stomach rolled with the ship, feeling unmoored in his body, empty and adrift. However, the smell of the rice from this morning's breakfast made his nausea rise and his mouth flood with bile. He could barely manage even a few mouthfuls of water.

Another wave splashed against the bow. Bernardo couldn't contain his groan.

“Shut up, old man,” Gezane snapped.

Bernardo focused on the young man, grateful for the distraction. “What do you know of suffering? You're too young to know anything.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. They were fueled by sickness and shadows.

But the journey on the ship seemed like an endless road through the dark underground world of
Xibalba
, with no stars to guide his way, his viper soul drowned by the endless water surrounding them.

“I know enough to enjoy life. To live it. You didn't have the
cojones
. You stayed locked away like a delicate flower behind the thick walls of the temple.”

“I wish I'd never left it,” Bernardo groaned as the ship heeled over again. They were staying close to the coast, never really leaving the sight of it, which meant the ship was in constant motion.

“Then go back! I can finish the mission.” In the dark of their tiny room,
Gezane's
eyes took on a strange gleam. “Let me do it. I can see out your prophesy. Alone.”

“No,” Bernardo said, shuddering. He made a feeble attempt to push himself up on his bunk bed. “Don't you see? That's what they want. The shadows.”

Gezane shook his head. “No. It's you. You don't want to be an afterward when they teach the children of our journey. Just a footnote.”

“I don't care about fame,” Bernardo protested, swaying with the ship. “I just want to help. To be of service to the gods.”

“You've done your part. You
saw
,” Gezane said.

“And I must finish it,” Bernardo said stubbornly.

The vision had shown only him warning the tiger clan. Not Gezane.

“If it doesn't finish you first,” Gezane said, pushing himself off the wall where he'd been slumped. He walked over to the door of their room and opened it.

“Wait, where are you going?” Bernardo asked, hating the quiver in his voice.

“Out. Into the fresh air.” Gezane paused, his dark eyes still flashing that odd glow. “Smells like death in here,” he added cruelly, slamming the door.

“No, wait,” Bernardo said, shivering and afraid. He wanted to get up to follow, but he couldn't hold himself up anymore; instead, he fell back onto his bunk.

The shadows were eating them alive, here. Bernardo could see them now, even without his viper soul.

They were determined to stop Bernardo from reaching the tiger clan in time.

But Bernardo was just as stubborn. Seasick or not, with
Gezane's
help or not, he'd make the journey.

Though he'd come to realize what happened afterward no longer mattered. Gezane had been right: It did smell like death in their room. Bernardo would never survive the trip back up the mountain to the temple. His ashes would be scattered far from his home, and never mingle with Olan's.

# # #

Bernardo woke again to blessed stillness and quiet. Even after a week off the ship, he still marveled at it. Golden morning light filtered by white lace curtains splayed across the foot of his bed. The viper clan had paid for a luxurious hotel after the elder living here had seen how ill Bernardo had become.

Bernardo stretched, satisfied. The bed was soft and the room was full of heavy, dark furniture. It weighed Bernardo down; he didn't understand the need to possess so many things.

But they were leaving that day, at dawn, and Bernardo wanted to savor every moment on ground that didn't shift with the waves. Plus, the elder clan leader had provided Bernardo with a charm to help him fight his illness. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad this time.

Bernardo stretched again, enjoying the light, comparing how weak it looked to the light in the temple, up the mountain, closer to the sky, when it finally occurred to him: This wasn't dawn light, but mid-morning.

The trunk that the elder had provided Bernardo no longer sat next to the door.

Bernardo sprang out of bed and raced to the desk. The leather wallet with the money, tickets, and papers was still sitting there, but instead of being plump with purpose, it was hollow and empty.

Quickly, Bernardo slid on light, drawstring pants, a striped shirt, and sandals, then raced out the door. The laborers were no longer in the streets; they'd already all gone to their jobs. Instead, it was just the idle folk, with time on their hands, strolling to the market or the park.

Bernardo pushed through them, the inevitable crowds of the city, racing to the docks.

The pier looked empty, but still Bernardo ran on, all the way up to the edge of the water.

Nothing waited for him there. The ship was gone, with Gezane, corrupted by shadows, on it.

The next ship to Calcutta wouldn't leave for a week or more.

The shadows had won.

Bernardo would never get to Calcutta in time, would never be able to warn the tiger clan. Adrian couldn't fulfill Bernardo's prophesy, but in his arrogance and clouded mind, he thought he could.

Old man tears rose to Bernardo's eyes, futile as age. He'd wasted his life at the temple, and now, he'd killed them all. He was a disgrace. Olan would be ashamed of him.

Bernardo turned to go…and felt himself crumbling to the ground, the smoke of prophesy rising.

A second vision, one of Gezane, filled Bernardo.

Gezane had ruined this chance with the shadows. He'd have to give his own life to remove the disgrace from his name, his family's name.

But he couldn't be told the entire vision.

Gezane had betrayed them to the shadows. There was no guarantee he wouldn't do so again.

Then another vision attacked Bernardo as he lay drooling and gasping on the pier, showing him the end of his own days. Sailors would find him and lock him away in a cell for the insane, mumbling prophesies to himself until the elder of the viper clan found him, much too late.

Bernardo would die in that cell.

Gezane would carry a cup of Bernardo's ashes back to the temple, to mingle them with Olan's, as Gezane sentence was laid out, spells cast upon him, the fate of the world resting no longer with them, but with a hound prince yet to be born.

Seattle, Present Day

Lukas

“How are you feeling?” Rudi asked.

Lukas considered the question. “Human,” he said with a grin. “And…and good. I guess.” He didn't really know how he felt. How was he supposed to feel? He hadn't been in this body for more than a minute in ten years. Albert's couch felt scratchy under his thighs, and the air seemed dull, no longer swimming with scents.

“Do you know who cursed you?” Albert asked quietly.

“Yes,” Lukas replied, then he looked down at his feet, at the long human toes that seemed foreign, yet familiar. He wiggled them experimentally. Very strange.

“This person—they might be very ill now. Weak. They drew power from the spell, from
you
,” Albert said.

Lukas looked up at Rudi. “
Wir
müssen
nach
Deutschland
zurückgehen
.
” He had to go see Oma. Immediately. And the rest of his family too—Da, Mama, and Greta.

Rudi gave him a curt nod. Then he smiled. “First, we need to get you some clothes.”

Lukas looked down at his odd human genitalia, nestled in black curls. He knew Rudi was right: As a human, he would have to go around dressed. He remembered being told that, that he shouldn't walk around in just his skin, without his fur, but it was an old memory, from long ago.

“I'll just pop down to the shop,” Albert said.

“Thank you,” Lukas said. Should he put his hand in his lap and cover himself? Hamlin didn't care, but he was a hound, always covered in his own coat.

After Albert had gone, Lukas turned to Mei Ling. “Thank you for bringing us here,” he said formally.

“You're welcome,” she said, a smile breaking across her face like the sun peeking across the horizon.

Lukas was stunned by her beauty. Though she was old—maybe as old as Oma—her skin was still as translucent as a rose petal. Her dark eyes seemed endlessly wise, and her long white-and-black hair fell like a silk curtain.

“You will help me with the shadows now, yes?” Mei Ling asked.

Lukas paused, blinking. The glow around Mei Ling faded. She was still beautiful, but he could see through the casual magic she used.

“I don't need to,” Lukas said, puzzled. Why had she thought she needed to charm him? “You are part of the knight who will destroy the shadows for good.”

“She's what?” Rudi asked sharply.

Lukas jerked his head around to see Rudi, then back again to Mei Ling. He'd been thinking these things for so long, but he'd never had a tongue with which to say them.

Did he need to keep all his secrets still? Could he finally tell someone what was going on?

“What do you mean, the knight?
Ritter
?” Mei Ling asked, using the German word.

Lukas nodded. He looked at Rudi, helpless. What secrets could he tell?

“Do you trust her?” Rudi asked softly.

“Yes,” Lukas said without hesitation.

“Then you can tell her what she needs to hear,” Rudi replied.

“I am the guardian hound,” Lukas said, standing, then turning to face her.

He towered over Mei Ling. And Rudi. He had no idea he'd be this tall as a human.

“Oma—my grandmother—told me that one of my breed only comes when the need is dire. But I am…” Lukas paused.

The words had been so hard to hear as a boy; now, after so many years in hiding, they were still difficult to say.

“I am not part of it. A member of the knight. I can't defeat the shadows myself. I merely search out the people who are necessary to save the world. You. Sally. Peter. Others.”

“And what will we do, after you've brought us together?” Mei Ling asked, skeptical.

“Amazing things,” Lukas assured her. He suddenly felt the solid warmth of the knight's sword beside him. “You will defeat the shadows. Drive them from the earth.”

“How?” Mei Ling insisted.

“There's a knight, and a sword…. You are part of the knight. Your scales are part of his armor.” Lukas said, looking down, pressing his lips together. Such an odd feeling, to press his teeth against his lips. “I don't know exactly how,” he said. “But I know you will. I've seen it.” His dreams only rarely showed him the knight and his battle with the shadows—just often enough that Lukas didn't despair.

“Foreseen it?” Mei Ling clarified.

“Yes,” Lukas said. “But it isn't clear.”

“Prophesy is like that,” Mei Ling said kindly.

“Will the shadows try to stop you?” Rudi asked, looking around the room, seeking their enemy.

“Yes,” Lukas said, as certain of it as he was his hound soul. “And they'll attack the others who are part of the knight. You need to be careful. So will Sally, and Peter.”

“They won't stop me,” Mei Ling said, her smile brighter, her teeth suddenly larger.

“Or me,” Rudi said, standing at attention, his ears and snout transforming him into a hound warrior.

“Good,” Lukas said. Hamlin rose and he added his own snarling voice, “I've been wanting to go hunting shadows for a long while.”

# # #

The flip-flops Albert found hurt Lukas' feet: He didn't remember ever wearing such things. The gray drawstring pants barely slid up past his hips, and he couldn't button the bright yellow-and-green shirt.

But at least he had enough clothes to be decent, to go outside.

Lukas sat in the backseat of Rudi's car. It was uncomfortably small. His head brushed up against the ceiling and his knees were pushed up against the front seat.

The air was no longer alive with scents. Lukas missed chasing and teasing apart all the smells he could catch. His human nose couldn't identify anywhere near as many as Hamlin's.

After they dropped Mei Ling off at a hotel (at her insistence), Lukas gratefully moved up front. However, even with the seat fully pushed back, he still couldn't stretch his legs all the way out.

“I'm going to have to get a new car, aren't I?” Rudi asked as he watched Lukas squirming in the seat, trying to get comfortable.

“I'm going to have to learn to drive, aren't I?” Lukas groaned. Even as a hound, he hadn't liked cars that much.

“It's a handy skill, Prince.”

Lukas twitched, but he wasn't sure why. Before Lukas could think more about it, however, Rudi asked, “Was it Lady Metzler, your grandmother, who cursed you?”

Lukas paused for only a moment before he said, “Yes.” Then he took a deep breath. He didn't feel relief after letting go of that secret, not like he'd expected.

“I suspected she had, when I saw her last week,” Rudi said. He added, “I'm sorry.”

Lukas shook his head. Sorry wasn't right. She'd saved him, kept him safe from the shadows by forcing him to stay in the form of a hound, despite how she'd done it. His dreams had shown him, too many times, what would happen if he'd remained in human form.

It had still been such a terrible price. Why hadn't she found another way?

“I can't get us to Germany, to the court, for at least a day, maybe two,” Rudi said. “I need to get papers for you, first.”

There it was again, that uncomfortable twitch at something Rudi said, and not just about going home, seeing his family after all this time.

“Papers?” Lukas asked, pinpointing it after a moment. He didn't need to prove his hound heritage, did he?

“Passport. Birth certificate. Social Security number. Like that.” Rudi paused, thinking. “When we get to Germany, we can replace them with real versions. A German passport, visas, like that.”

“Okay,” Lukas said. He'd misunderstood. He'd leave all that to Rudi.

“Do you want to tell them?” Rudi asked quietly. “Before we get there? Your family, the court?”

Lukas shook his head
no
. He didn't want them to know, not until he could tell them in person, could see them again.

To see Da, and Mama, and Greta—anytime Rudi had started talking about them, Lukas had left the room. He hadn't wanted to know. Not if he couldn't be there with them. Now—he didn't know how he felt about seeing them again. He knew he should want to, but he just wasn't sure.

Lukas followed Rudi into the house, trying to listen to his instructions on how to turn off the alarm system, but he couldn't pay attention.

This had been his home for over a year, and while it smelled the same, it was still so different.

First, everything was smaller. He hadn't realized the walls in the living room were a cheery yellow, or that the couch was a comforting brown. It seemed neater as well, or maybe that was because he could see around all the obstacles.

“Are you hungry?” Rudi asked, noticing Lukas' distraction.

Lukas paused. Was he? Was that what he felt? “Yes?” he replied, unsure.

Rudi laughed. “Come on,” he said, walking into the kitchen. “I don't know a seventeen-year-old boy who isn't perpetually starving.”

Rudi continued to lay out plans as he prepared thick cream-of-tomato soup, wheat-free garlic-cheese bread, and fatty sausages, “Comfort food,” he proclaimed as he served them. He talked about buying clothes for Lukas, getting “barefoot shoes” (whatever those were), and luggage and certificates and on and on.

Lukas focused on the taste and feel of the food—so very different than what he'd been eating. While his nose wasn't as good, there were so many more flavors and textures in his mouth: Savory and sweet, salty and creamy, crunchy and juicy.

“And you should go talk to Sally and Peter,” Rudi said as they finished. “I can loan you some sweats and a hoodie that I think will fit you.”

Lukas nodded. He did need to talk to them, to tell Sally why he'd been guarding her, to make sure they both understood how important they were.

Rudi's clothes did fit better than what Lukas had on—long, comfortable, navy blue sweats, a soft, faded gray T-shirt, and a hoodie. Rudi even dragged out an old pair of sneakers that had belonged to his older brother.

“Thank you,” Lukas said, still feeling as though he was settling into his own skin, decorating an outside that didn't belong with his insides.

“Of course, Prince,” Rudi said casually.

“Don't call me that,” Lukas said, then bit his lips, as if he could take back the words.

Rudi raised a single eyebrow and waited as the silence rolled between them.

“That's a dog's name,” Lukas explained finally. It was what Rudi had always called his hound form.

“Ah,” Rudi said, nodding. “But you are my prince. I may have called you that when you were in hound form, but it was to remind both of us of your royalty.”

“Okay,” Lukas said, looking down at his covered feet. He hadn't understood the human nuance. He suspected he was going to embarrass himself frequently as he learned.

He'd been living in the human world, but not as a human.

“I won't use just ‘Prince' since that makes you uncomfortable,” Rudi promised.

Luka nodded, the continued embarrassment turning the warm food in his stomach to a solid, uncomfortable ball. “I'm going to go visit Sally and Peter,” he said, wanting to flee.

“I'll walk with you,” Rudi said.

“I can walk myself,” Lukas snapped. Then he shook his head. He kept stumbling over his tongue, inserting his newly human feet into his mouth.

“Yes, yes, you can,” Rudi said, agreeing. “But I just got you back, Lukas. I'm afraid to let you out of my sight.”

Lukas understood Rudi's fear all too well. He didn't want to change into hound form again, to call Hamlin too close, afraid the curse would return or that shadows would attack.

But he also had to learn to navigate this human world as a human, and he needed to do that on his own.

“Flank guard?” Lukas proposed, meaning that Rudi would walk behind him and to the side. That way, Rudi could keep him in sight, help him if he got into any trouble, but wouldn't be next to him, by his side.

“It would be an honor,” Rudi said seriously.

Lukas walked over to where Rudi was standing. “I don't know how to do this,” he said out loud, but he tried anyway, giving Rudi a hug, like how Da had hugged him when he'd been a boy. “Thank you,” he said, his heart full of everything he couldn't say, of ten years of gratitude toward this man who had kept him safe.

“It was always my pleasure, my prince,” Rudi said.

Lukas knew there wasn't anything horrible waiting for him outside the house, but even if there had been, he knew he would face it gladly with this man at his side.

# # #

Lukas stayed in human form on the walk to Sally's apartment, so he couldn't really sense Rudi behind him. However, the knowledge that Rudi was there made him walk with broader steps, secure and safe. The streets were full of people on their Saturday errands. One day, would he be able to walk so aimlessly, like he had as a dog? Right now the need to do more buzzed under his skin, pricking him sharper than the shadows.

Even without his hound nose, Lukas could still smell Sally's apartment building from half a block away, a unique mixture of old cat, older bricks, city dust, and the particular people living in the three-story building.

Lukas buzzed Sally's apartment number on the intercom, waiting until the crackling voice said, “Hello?”

“Hi,” Lukas said. “It's Lukas.” He paused, and though he knew no one was close by, he still very softly added, “Pixie.”

“Oh. Oh! Let me buzz you in.”

The hallway smelled more strongly of a cat's litter box. Lukas was surprised at how dingy it seemed. As a hound, he'd loved the old, red carpet; it held so many interesting scents. Now, he could see how threadbare it was, how the walls were all scuffed, and that two of the lights in the hallway were burned out. Thinking back, he realized it had been out for a while.

“Hi,” Lukas said, awkwardly sticking out his hand to Sally when she opened the door. “I'm Lukas.”