<html> <body> Part 2 of 4. Metamor Keep: Bearing the Wolf-Touched by Charles Matthias May 16, 708 CR They found a third of the Glen had gathered by the lake to welcome the dragons. Baron Avery was there with Angus the badger at his side holding a conversation with the larger of the two dragons. The two Avery boys were straddling the same dragon's back and pretending they were soaring through the sky; another dozen Glen children scampered about his long tail and toes, or cavorted with the younger dragon who kept his wings tucked in tight as he pranced about the shore. Charles beamed on seeing his own children among them. As they rode out of the woods and came into view, the younger dragon lifted its head and in a voice both familiar and strange, cried out, “Charles! James!” James, ears lifted high, broke into a warm smile as he beheld the dragon. With a braying laugh, he murmured, “It's Lindsey. He really is a dragon!” Charles took a deep breath and waved his arm as they approached. Behind the youthful dragon he saw his wife anxiously observe their children scampering over a creature almost big enough to swallow them whole. She met his gaze and the tension in her eyes eased. “Lindsey? Is that you?” Charles called out. He drew back the reins, bringing his pony Malicon to a stop a dozen paces from either dragon. Malicon stomped his hooves, as did the horses his friends rode, all wary in the presence of such large reptiles. The gray-scaled dragon bobbed his head and spread his jaws in a wide-smile. “It is! How do I look?” Charles could only stare and stammer until he chuckled. With a bemused smile stretching his snout, the rat spread his arms wide and nodded. “You look magnificent; you make a very handsome dragon, Lindsey. I never... never would have guessed it. Are you still a child?” Lindsey turned his head toward Pharcellus whose purple-flecked golden eyes cast between the Lord of the Glen and his younger brother. When he glanced back he bore an expression none of them could discern. “Not as Jessica made me, no. When I became a dragon I was only half this size! A day before we left Fjellvidden, Jessica's spell shattered and I swelled in size; thankfully I wasn't flying or I know I would have crashed. Pharcellus tells me I am as big as a dragon my age would be, so,” he seemed to shrug his wings, “here I am!” James blinked, nostrils wide with a smile, as he slipped down from his mount. “As old as you were as a man?” “More or less,” Lindsey admitted, a shifting of his chest suggesting a dragon's shrug. He lowered his neck and gave little Baerle a lick behind the ears. She squeaked and scampered into her mother's arms. Garigan took the reins of all three steeds while Charles and James approached with swift step. Lindsey leaned back on his haunches – long tail tripping a few Glen children who laughed and tumbled back to their feet only to try and jump the dragon's tail as it swung past again – and spread his arms wide. He was large enough both rat and donkey could hug him at the same time without bumping snouts. Warmth filled his vermilion-touched gray scales. Smooth along his neck and shoulders, Charles held tight with joy at the reunion. Lindsey's head bent down and he could feel the underside of the dragon's jaws touching his back. While the rat had ridden dragons in the past, and had savored slipping the bonds of earth to touch the face of the heavens themselves, he had never actually hugged a dragon as a man hugs his dearest companions. His heart trembled and he felt a subtler transport no less profound than the embrace of sky, perhaps even moreso. A little voice broke his hold, though it only made his heart grow. “Dada! I play with dragon!” He let go of Lindsey and turned to pick up his daughter Bernadette who stared at him bright eyed and unafraid. “Would you like to give the dragon a kiss on the nose?” Bernadette's whiskers backed against her snout and her tail curled against his arm and side. James laughed while his two boys tugged on the rat's tabard begging their turn. Lindsey blinked and tried to smile at the little rat without revealing any fangs; it was an awkward expression at best but it made Bernadette giggle. Charles lifted her gentle and sure, while Lindsey leaned his snout forward until she could reach. Her nose touched the narrow snout where the nostrils flared and then she giggled again, her whiskers twitching all over. Lindsey patiently waited as Charles lifted his two sons in turn so they could give him a kiss on the nose too. Kimberly brought Baerle and after her brothers had their turn, handed her to Charles for one more dragon's kiss. His children had not even had all of their turns before other Glen children began begging a similar boon from their curious parents. But Lindsey lowered himself back to all fours and sidled next to the rat. “There is a reason we came here to the Glen first, Charles. You're the only one who might be able to help him.” Lindsey stared off into the woods near where they stood and the rat followed his gaze. He knew the pose before he recognized the distorted face; easily mistaken for a Follower at prayer, the figure was bent over hands clasped together over his chest, one a fist and the other a cup to hold it, while a placid detachment ruled the lines of the face and the stress of the muscles. It was the pose of a Sondecki seeking and exploring their Calm. It was his childhood friend Jerome Krabbe. And yet it was not. Jerome did not sport triangular, black-furred ears, nor did he possess a long, lustrous black tail. His friend did not stand upon four-toed paws with legs shaped like a dog's haunches, nor were his arms covered in patches of fur with fingers ending in claws. And his fellow Sondecki did not have a cleft lip with long red tongue dangling between fangs befitting a beast. And yet, this was Jerome. The vision Ba'al had shown Charles had been true, at least as to this dreadful metamorphosis the vile thing called Gmork had wrought. His heart fell from its elation as he stepped from the dragon's side toward his childhood friend. “Garigan, attend me please,” Charles said, never letting his eyes waver. The cry of children fell behind him; the murmuring words of Lord Avery and the booming reply of Pharcellus were lost amidst the forest din. He felt the ferret's presence at his right side as a stirring against his whiskers and a green-clad, gray-furred shape at the edge of his vision. The creature in its Calm was all he could truly see. No other Glenner dared approach. His tongue moved, and with it sprang forth the Song of the Sondeck. Its contours were joined by Garigan only a second later, and they lifted their paws across the loam, roots, and stubble toward the beast in Calm. Jerome's ears turned at the sound, and his face distended, nose darkening as a snout stretched forward. In only seconds the face of his friend dissolved into a black-furred wolf's head. Touches of silver gave the beastly visage an aura of nobility, but it was still not the face of a Keeper. Charles knew several wolf Keepers both at Metamor and the Glen, but there were subtle differences in the brow, the position of the eyes, the width of the cheeks and thickness of the neck all lacking in the Sondecki. The wolf tilted back its head and howled with them the Song of the Sondeck. Charles watched the rest of his friend's body dwindle inside the tattered remnants of his robe. Arms lowered before him as fingers drew backward, paws pressing into the hard earth a moment later. His chest barreled outward even as it shrank and coated itself in the same silvery-black fur adorning his face. The robe melted into his now lupine shape until no trace of the man remained. Two Keepers and a wolf, all Sondeckis, sang together the ancient song heedless of whoever might listen. And as they sang, both Charles and Garigan studied their friend. Unlike more conventional mages, neither possessed mage-sight; the ability of either Jessica or Murikeer to manipulate the threads of magic as a weaver worked the threads of cloth was beyond them or any Sondecki. Rather they could sense the Sondeck as a presence within which they extended past their flesh as they willed. The curses of Metamor had touched the Sondeck only subtly; Charles had needed to find a new Calm, but with only a little practice had recovered all of his former abilities. What they felt in Jerome was much different. To the very core of his being the Sondeck itself had been corrupted. What should have seemed to them as the flesh within flesh was the pelt of a wild animal. The refined touch of a human finger was the sharp prick of a claw. There was nothing human remaining in Jerome's Sondeck. Charles felt his heart tighten even within the beauty they shared; little wonder Jerome had become a wolf to howl the Song. The rat leaned toward his friend, reaching out a hand to touch him on the shoulder – physical contact would allow him to pry deeper than mere projection alone. His fingers brushed fur... Jaws snapped shut, spit flashing in the air, golden eyes bonfires in the night of Jerome's black fur. The attack had been so swift the rat still stared in shock even after the thunder-clap of those snapping jaws faded into echoes. Garigan had his arm around the rat's shoulder, having yanked him back as fast as the strike had come. The Song cut short, Charles gasped, his voice choking in his throat, “Jerome! It is I! Charles!” The wolf stared back, silent for a single moment, fangs glimmering beneath stretched jowls, before recognition came. The eyes closed and the snout shrank back. Paws stretched to fingers, the robe collapsed out from the black fur, and the posture shifted upright. The almost-man sat upon beastly haunches, head hanging low, and wept. “Charles,” the voice was Jerome's; at least it had not changed. “Charles, help me.” “I must touch you. Will the beast strike?” “I am the beast, Charles. I will not strike.” Jerome closed his eyes, pressing a tear from each, and the faint lines of a Sondecki seeking their Calm returned. Both Charles and Garigan took a deep breath and the ferret let his master's arm go. Charles smiled thanks to him and then stepped closer. There was an exposed patch of human flesh at the base of Jerome's neck; the Sondecki robe, had it not been in tatters, would have covered it. Charles took a deep breath and then laid his palm down. Jerome's ears lifted and his tail straightened, but he otherwise kept still. He felt deeper. Darkness surrounded him. He crouched on a floor of dank stone and a bad air lingered, poisoning his lungs. The bitter taste of iron was fresh on his tongue. Something approached, awkward as it crawled on all fours. He felt a breathless rush through the forest; fir and pine pressed close on either side, their branches brushing his sides, needless scattering and catching in his fur. Good sand shifted beneath his feet, warm with the afternoon sun. His limbs turned and twisted in the practiced ease of many years; his breath came in controlled intervals, each timed with every lifting and setting of his arms. His body stretched as he propelled through the cold air, arms before him ready to greet and grip the earth to push him into his next bound. A face peered out of the woods, eyes golden, fur gray, with an arm outstretched clutching a faintly glimmering bauble. The jowls curled back in a smile, and the jaws stretched wide, reaching for him. A long, slavering red tongue flecked spittle across bone-white fangs. Charles yanked his arm from Jerome's shoulder and realized he was trembling. Garigan had his arm about his shoulders trying to still him. The rat's tail lashed and thumped against the ground as he collapsed into a heap, long toes splaying inches from Jerome's haunches. The mostly-wolf Sondecki kept still for several seconds more, before a man-like visage drew back the snout and regarded the rodent with at first a hopeful glance; but this decayed into one of sullen remorse. He averted his gaze and whimpered. “Master, are you well?” Garigan asked; a subtle power flowed from the ferret's paws and into the rat's arms, calming his quivering muscles. Charles could offer no answer. Transfixed by what had been his friend but now was wolf-beast he felt a horror. In the space of not quite three months this deformation had been perpetrated. Somewhere beneath the fur, the fangs, the claws, and the madness was the man. Either whatever powers Gmork had were not able to efface it completely, or Gmork had not finished what he'd begun. Neither mattered for Charles; he could do nothing for Jerome in any case. “Master?” Charles sighed and shook his head, before lifting an eye toward the ferret. “Nay, Garigan. I am not well. Jerome needs Sondecki healers and I know not of the art. His very Sondeck has been corrupted. There is no one – not a single soul – in all of Galendor who can restore him.” If Jerome was disturbed by the rat's words there was no sign. His furred ears remained alert but did not turn to catch their words. His eyes were closed and did not tremble. What was left of the snout continued to whimper but nothing more. The rat's heart clenched as he remembered what another Sondecki had told him from the doorstep of Heaven. But very soon you will have the chance to aid two who suffer greatly. One of those you have already met on your journey. The other is a dear friend we both know. When he comes to you, the time will have arrived for you to set aright the wound that broke us all. You will know it, never fear. The wound... broke us all. All... Ladero, Krenek, Jerome, and Charles. They had arrived in Sondeshara at same time as children and had progressed through the ranks together. All had remarked on their deep friendship It lasted until the day Charles fled never to return. Never. His claws pressed into his palms and his tail twisted beneath him where he sat. Had he a chewstick between his incisors he would have bit it in two. Charles pushed himself back to his feet and thrust his tail behind him. For one moment he felt a terrible fear, the same fear which had kept him running for years and what drove him to hide at Metamor; this fear made him a rat, gave him whiskers, fur and a tail. This fear drove Krenek in search of him where he fell into the hands of Marzac. This fear kept him away when Ladero was slain. This fear made him lie to the man who needed him now when he'd finally been found and who had put his own place in the Sondecki Order at risk to protect him. The time had arrived for him to set right this wound. Charles intended to never return. Now he must never fear. “Garigan, please stay with Jerome. I must speak to my wife.” The ferret nodded, eyes widening for a moment before a hardness filled them. He stepped closer to the beast-man and crouched at his side, a gray cloud passing before a black storm. Charles emerged from the forest to find little had changed. Children romped around the dragons who kept still aside from an occasional nudge with snout and tail to keep little claws or fangs from harming their wings. Glenner parents watched closely though their anxiety had long since passed; these were friendly and gentle dragons. Many younger Glen scouts also stood close by, each eager to touch the dragons once they saw an opening. Charles forced a smile to his snout as he was greeted by many friends with whom he'd served; he stopped only to address the dragons. “Lindsey, Pharcellus,” their heads swung toward him, large eyes bright and focused. He felt an involuntary shudder echo through his fur. “Thank you for bringing my friend here. You were right; I know what must be done. Please stay with him for now as he still needs your help too.” “We have already vowed not to leave him until we know he will...,” Pharcellus began before one of the Avery boys jumped and grabbed him around the neck, yanking his head back down. The dragon responded by belching a cloud of smoke at the young squirrel. “Until he will be well,” Lindsey finished for his older brother. “He is our friend too, Charles. Never fear.” He smiled and half-turned so he could see his wife among the other parents watching. Never fear. He stepped toward her and put a hand upon her wrist. Her eyes met his, uncertain. One hand reached up to the purple stone at her neck. “Milady, there is something I must tell you. Let us take a walk around the lake.” He offered his arm. She slipped her hand through and together they passed out of the crowd and began a quiet walk, the chorus of Spring and the rippling of the water covering their whispered voices. ---------- “Sondeshara!” Kimberly exclaimed, one hand clutching at the stone as her step carried her a half-step to her husband's side. Up till then they had pressed so close even their tails brushed across each other with their stride; the sudden separation brought a chill to his fur. “It's so far away! I.. I cannot even imagine how far it must be! Charles, my Charles, why do you have to go there?” “The only people in all the world who have the ability to heal Jerome are there, my Lady.” He stopped and turned, grasping her hands in his and pressing them tight. There was an apology in his voice, but firmness too. His eyes found hers and kept them, trembling little things in need of warmth and assurance. “There are three choices before us. If we all remain here, Jerome is doomed to be a beastly slave to a monster for the rest of his days. I cannot leave him to such a terrible fate! I will not! His only hope is at Sondeshara; there he will have Sondecki healers who understand how to mend his wounds. Either I accompany him to Sondeshara or I send him on alone. Either way I will end up in Sondeshara.” Kimberly shook her head, fighting to draw back her hands. “Nay, how can it be? My Charles, how will it be?” “Jerome was sent by the Sondeckis to find me and bring me back. He choose not to and has gone into hiding of his own. And now it cost him dearly. If I were to send him to Sondeshara alone the other Sondeckis would learn from him where I am anyway. One night, months, a year or more from now, they would come here and steal me away with none the wiser. You would wake to an empty bed with no trail to hunt. I would spend the rest of my days in Sondeshara a prisoner; we would never see each other again.” Her whiskers flattened against her jowls and she wormed one hand free. She beat at his fists, her eyes wetting with tears. “But if you go I still will never see you again!” “Nay, my Lady!” He caught her hand against and held it to his chest, pulling her in close. He stroked his fingers across the soft flesh of her ear and drank in her scent, one filled with fear. “You will not lose me. If I go back with Jerome, whatever sentence is meted out in recompense for abandoning the Sondeckis will be the less. But, aye, there is a chance I will never be allowed to leave Sondeshara again. I will not be parted from you or from our children. The only way is for you all to come with me to Sondeshara.” Her jaws opened and he could see her mouthing the words, “Come with you...” as she stared with eyes as wide as any rat could offer. “Aye. If we all go, then no matter what happens, we will be together.” Charles draped his arm behind her neck and touched his nose to hers. “I will not be parted from you or the children again. I was gone far too long to fight Marzac. I must take Jerome to Sondeshara. It will be a wonderful adventure for the children to see new lands. And you can learn about where I come from, my Lady. I can show you the beauty of the desert and its mountains.” Kimberly's claws pressed against his chest. “But, Charles, this is our home! Here, the Glen. You want us to leave with no hope of ever coming back?” “Want? Nay! I want to stay here for the rest of my life. But I cannot, you cannot ask me, to condemn Jerome to this fate. Did you see him, my Lady? We merely look like beasts. He is one. His only hope is to return to Sondeshara.” He swallowed and pulled her tight against his chest, snout nuzzling one ear as he whispered. “I have lived every day for the past ten years with the fear the day had come when the Sondeckis would find me and drag me back for punishment. The only hope we have of making this our home and of spending our lives together, my Lady, is to go to Sondeshara together as a family. If they see me come willingly, and if they see you and the children and what Metamor has made of us, their hearts will be opened to leniency.” “Can you be so sure?” He said nothing for a moment. Across the lake they could hear the laughter of the children including their own as they cavorted with the dragons. Charles turned his ears to listen for several seconds; the sound of the forest was always there around them, but now it was the whispering background – a mere stage upon which his children played. His voice cut through their squeaks of delight with the gentlest of breaths. “I am sure it will help. I am not sure we will be able to return, but I cannot imagine the Sondeckis have fallen so far as to be without compassion. The man who drove me from them is dead and I know what he wanted to make of the Sondeckis was resented and resisted by others. I have hope, my love. I am not certain, but Eli did not give us certainty in this life. He tells us not to be afraid. I am more afraid of staying here than of going, my Lady. Our family will be safe. We will not be torn asunder again.” Kimberly trembled against his chest for a moment and then slipped free. She continued the walk around the lake, her snout lowered, eyes lost in contemplation of the rocks and grass at her toes. Charles stayed by her side but said nothing more. Together they walked in silence for a few minutes, bringing them three-quarters of the way around the lake before his wife finally found words to say. “You are not giving me a choice. There is nothing I can say to keep you from going to Sondeshara. And even if there were, if what you say of your friend is true, I would not say it. You are too good a man and I love you too much to ask you to abandon him. But, Charles, oh, Charles, you speak of a voyage dreadful and long! How will we keep our family safe there and back again? How will we help our little boy with his dreams? Will we come back here? I don't want to lose our home.” “I don't want to either, but it is something we must risk. What we will not risk is losing each other. Nor will we risk harm to our son. I do have an idea...” Charles told her. By the time they made a full circuit of the lake she agreed. Several eyes were upon them as they returned to the cavorting children and the friendly dragons. Charles smiled to James and Lindsey before striding to where Lord Avery and Pharcellus spoke. “Pharcellus, my friend, I have a little favor to ask of you.” ---------- May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love, Charles Matthias </body> </html>