There was silence, silence so prevailing it contaminated the surrounding walls of brick and glass. Pure and dark it ran through the entire city like a plague, stretching on for many square miles and quieter than the interior of any ancient tomb.
All of a sudden out of the stillness came the soft tread of tattered feet. A shape slowly emerged from within the deeper shadows. It stumbled quietly and the noise echoed with the depth of thunder.
The shape paused on the verge of penetrating the lesser shadows, perching to listen as the world around it went deaf once more. Satisfied that not a hint of noise was to be found beyond its own ragged breathing the shape emerged into the lighter gloom and revealed itself to be humanoid. It moved through the better lit area and did not stop until gaining sanctuary once more within darker shadows. It stopped to listen before moving on again.
This strange creature wandered off on its enigmatic journey and the night was once more claimed by eternal silence, guarded by the ever watchful eye of the moon.

*****

Brshikt… the sound of a walkie-talkie being keyed echoed through the dark.
“Alpha team this is Bravo leader. We have acquired the target and are tracking on time…over.”
“Alpha team here Bravo. Copy that. Keep on target, I repeat, keep on target. Base command will have our hides if we lose this one again…over.”
“I copy Alpha. Target heading west/northwest, Will proceed to tail, with updates…over.”
“Copy, Bravo. Alpha out.”
“Bravo out.”
As the last key tone faded stillness reigned.

*****

The wormhole glowed bright red, a gentle swirl that emitted yellow and purple sparks in a slow tie-dyed biorhythm of sound and color. A paradoxical anomaly where nothing was what it seemed, it entered the next phase of its journey, constantly moving yet never going anywhere and an old computer produced an eerie sound as it spat out yet another series of complex data.
The computer was on a journey of its own, running parallel with that of the anomaly, and should have by all rights broken down and ceased functioning over sixty years earlier. Amazingly enough there was something produced by the enormous tear in the fabric of space/time- for this was the true nature of the kaleidoscope of energy- that kept everything around it in a constant state of frozen stasis for an encompassing radius of one hundred and fifty miles. The ‘Complex’ that housed the computer therefore was also in perfect condition. Not one door hinge had a single hint of the slightest squeak, nor the glass in any of the four hundred and sixty-two windows showed a stain of the smallest smudge. There was not even a single grass blade poking its way through the maze of concrete sidewalks that connected the multitude of buildings making up the grandeur that was the Complex. Yet in the midst of all of this perfection there was a blemish, a cancer if you would, a small speck of disquiet that would almost go unnoticed if not for its significance in the grand scheme of things.
It was actually he, and he was actually Max, Max Kimbal, genetic engineer, quantum theorist and the last surviving member of Team WormControl. Max was a small balding man, seemingly of about thirty-eight years in appearance and exuded a nervous kind of energy. Round, wire rimmed glasses sat precariously on a red bulbous nose that was the result of twenty straight years drinking straight bourbon and he wrung his bony hands together, constantly twining and untwining his fingers in a quick unconscious way that used to drive his colleagues crazy. Sitting in a cushy swivel chair he watched the printer spew forth its unending stream of data. Using a practiced analytical eye he unendingly searched for any change or discrepancy in the patterns and rhythms of the wormhole in front of him.
The novelty, which had followed the end of the initial terror produced from the invasion of the world or worlds beyond the wormhole, had quickly wore off after Max had recovered sufficiently enough to appreciate the actual monotony a ‘presence’ of its nature represented. There had been no new spatial disturbances in months and nothing had crossed over via the wormhole into his reality in a little over three years.
Max sighed. As the last member of the specialist team hired to develop the technology to find and successfully open a wormhole in the fabric of quantum space he had felt that it was his duty to wait and study the results of their handiwork. What a burden it had been to shoulder; over sixty years this poor, frail scientist had been waiting, his body in permanent stasis along with everything else in and surrounding the Complex. It was not that he did not know exactly where the boundaries of the wormhole stasis field were, it had been one of the first things he had measured all of those years ago when the sensors had first detected the disturbance produced by such a field in the atmosphere of its immediate area, no, the thing now was that he was afraid to leave. He had witnessed the passage of time outside of the stasis field for so long that he was afraid if he left the safety it offered time would catch up to him and he’d simply shrivel up into a wrinkled little mummy and die.
This not being something he wished to experience, he waited and watched.

*****

The sun was shining.
Candlelite woke up in his bed of fir needles, stretched and then sat up with a yawn. Rubbing his stomach he realized he was kind of hungry and then he realized he was also kind of naked. Damn, he thought for he was always annoyed to an endless degree when he awoke wearing nothing but scraps of the clothes he had had on. At least he was not completely nude. That had happened a few times as well, though not so much recently. He seemed to be doing better, getting more control of himself lately, and staying partially dressed at any rate.
Standing up he suddenly smiled. It was a beautiful day and who the hell was out here to see him running about with his bare ass hanging out anyway. All he could hear was the birds singing and the little sounds made by the various insects around.
Good, he thought as he sniffed the air tentatively, it seemed that once more he had managed to throw the pursuers of last night off his trail, yep, nothing in the air but the smell of honeysuckle and warm sunshine.
He yawned again and moved from the entrance of the small cave, if one could call the slight crack a cave, there was no time like the present to set out once more and hopefully he could find some breakfast while he was at it.
As he strode through the tall Doug Firs that composed the forest around him he admired the way the sunlight slanted through the trees. It spattered the undergrowth of ferns and bramble with warmth and light and as he picked his way through the dense undergrowth he let his mind wander to the men of last night, the soldiers that hunted him.
Candlelite thought they had been tracking him off and on for a couple of weeks, though he was not entirely sure because time seemed to move differently for him now. He was also unsure of why they were following him, although he had a pretty good idea of what their reasons might be.
Well one thing's for certain, he thought, it's definitely easier to elude them now than it has been. He actually rather enjoyed his nights now. The combination of instinct and logic was exhilarating and much preferable to the sheer terror he had felt in the beginning. While running on nothing but pure instinct, only able to rationalize things the next morning, he had found no happiness. He had been lucky if he could even think strait during the daylight hours. More often than not he had unsuccessfully tried to piece his night together from the disorganized fragmentation that had once been his memory. He had truly been a confused and frightened person.
Not now, he mused. He was a fairly happy individual and definitely enjoyed the unbridled freedom that his newfound life had presented him with. Even in spite of the few minor inconveniences he had experienced lately. Like being scared, followed, shot at, alone, naked, confused, physically and verbally abused, and… he stopped in his tracks for a moment and smiled. So there were a little more than a few things that had happened recently that could not exactly be counted under the ‘fun list’, all in all he was really and truly having fun.
Candlelite suddenly cocked his head to one side and listened intently. Then he heard it again, a soft rustle off to the right. He turned until he faced the direction the sound had come from, moving so slow that he hardly made any noise.
Ah… he smiled a bit to feral for the comfort of his human features- his prey was up wind- he sniffed the air, taking a good whiff out of the slight breeze that coiled lazily through the trees and brush only to gently caress his body as it passed, and smelled a rabbit; second year, female, nice and plump from a season of good eating. Candlelite briefly marveled at the detail one could obtain from scent, wonderful. He sniffed again as his ears tuned in on the soft rustle that had moved in toward him and a little further to the left. He crouched low into the wild melee of brush and rotting debris until he was all but hidden from sight, his white skin blending in with the soft light penetrating through from the thick canopy above.
Candlelite moved in slowly and with stealth one would not think to associate with his size, crept up on his target. He was so engrossed with the thrill of the hunt that he barely realized when, with such speed as no human has the natural right to possess, he suddenly leapt forward, snatched the furry little thing right off the ground and while rolling, neatly snapped it’s neck before the animal even had a moment to know fear.
The rabbit never had a chance.
Slinging the poor beast over his shoulder Candlelite got up and set off to find a suitable spot in which to enjoy his repast.
His wandered until the slight game trail he was on finally dumped him into a small clearing at the foot of a slight decline. Finding a comfortable spot he turned around a few times just like a dog, sniffing at the air and straining his ears until he had satisfied himself he was alone, then he sat, pulled a small pouch attached by a string from around his neck, from which he procured a rather sharp lock-blade skinning knife and set to work on the rabbit with it.
After losing the small quantity of possessions he had gained and regained more than once throughout his misadventures in clothing, Candlelite had decided he needed a more practical, permanent sort of something to keep his valuables upon his person at all times no matter what should befall him, hence the pouch.
He had found it in an abandoned shop he had stumbled upon while passing through one of the deserted cities. He had not known the name of said city, having missed any ‘Now Entering’ or ‘Welcome To’ signs, but he did manage to catch the name of the store. Even though it was night it had been late enough in the twisted course of his purposeless journey that it had managed to find perch in his mangled consciousness. When read off the broken sign which hung from only one corner it said, “Smoked Wood: Natures Gifts and Oddities.”
Nearly everything in the pouch had come from that little shop of what- days ago, a week? The lock-blade knife, a straight razor (he never knew when he'd run into some women...eh?), a waterproof container of wooden matches, two Bic lighters, and a small box of dental floss which could be useful for all kinds of purposes.
The only things he kept in the bag that were not from the store, purely for sentimental reasons, were his top two canines which had fallen out when his longer more dagger-like pair had grown in permanently.
Candlelite finished his musing and with the rabbit skinned he ate his meal raw. This was something that would have made him ill to just think about a few weeks ago. Though it did not bother him much now he still preferred his meals cooked but he could not risk the attention a fire would draw with his trip-trailing bastards somewhere in the area.
After a satisfied belch he sighed and rose to resume his aimless trek once again.
The sun was high in the sky and just starting its descent as the day moved into mid-afternoon. The wind shifted out of the east and started blowing warmly out of the south.
Candlelite observed that he was moving somewhat north northwesterly when something queer ahead of him caught his gaze. The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck stood on end as his mind tried to decipher what exactly it was he was gazing on. The trees that the tree line in front of him consisted of were slightly odd to say the least and as he edged closer he was able to begin to make crude assumptions about the strange trees. He gathered himself, his hair standing down, and strode toward the nearest tree in order to observe it more closely. Reaching out he tentatively traced the distinct border between the consistencies in bark texture, wondering what could possibly be the cause behind this strange occurrence.
This is what Candlelite observed about the trees; it seemed that through some occurrence the trees had aged somewhat peculiarly, or not aged somewhat peculiarly, depending on how one looked at it. It was like there was some kind of invisible border and on the side he was in all of the forest was normal, while on the other side the forest appeared to be many years younger. You see, depending in its path of growth, roughly half of the tree he was looking at had aged and the other half had not and this gave the trees that grew on this boundary a warped, twisted look that did not appear to be natural. This was definitely a mystery he wanted to get to the bottom of. No, it was more than that; this was a mystery he felt strangely compelled to get to the bottom of.
So with that strange new conviction this strange young man set out following the unnatural border through the trees.

*****

Max looked up when the soft alarm began to sound. He had sensors rigged up along the entire perimeter of the WurmDome which was what he had dubbed the stasis field created by the massive amount of unknown energy dispersed throughout the region. He had the sensors set to go off when triggered by a certain heat signature produced by anything even remotely resembling a human being. Therefore an ape could set it off if not for the other sensors he had also installed to measure the specific amount of bioelectrical energy emitted by any trespasser. When coupled with the thermal radar this proved to be an almost one hundred percent reliable detection system warning against any intruders of the human persuasion entering what he had come to think of as his domain.
Well the red light was flashing now. He pushed off from the desk he sat at and rode his cushy swivel chair across the floor to the row of monitors opposite from him. He got there just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of something blurry go skating off camera.
Now to see who this mysterious visitor is, not a problem, he thought to himself. Just a push of a button and presto, rewind is initiated!
The screen showed a well-built man strolling across the screen. Just before the image was lost again Max hit pause and sat thoughtfully studying his visitor.
The man was Caucasian, blonde hair, blue eyes, definitely of an Irish/English descent. He was also; Max could not help but notice, almost nude and this lead to the fact that the young man was well built; with good muscle tone, he could have very well been an athlete of some sort.
Max sat back in his chair and rubbed his eyes thoughtfully behind his spectacles.
Where was this person going? Judging from his appearance it hardly seemed feasible that he could know anything about Max or the Complex. What little news he could gather from what remained of the Global Broadcasts had led him to conclude that what was left of the world had either been conditioned into forgetting or had never been taught anything even close to, what in the beginning had been termed ‘The Quantum Conundrum’.
So it seemed this young man was just some random wanderer. It did seem somewhat strange to Max however that besides hardly owning a stitch of clothing, his only thing by way of possessions seemed to be some sort of pouch hanging from ‘round his neck. Not your typical traveler then.
Dr. Kimbal sighed loudly and pulled himself gently out of his chair. Despite outward appearances, inwardly he was beginning to feel his almost 100 years. Not all of them surely but getting on towards fifty or sixty of them he guessed.
He meandered over to a large coffeepot and poured himself a dollop into a cracked and stained mug that he always kept on hand. Once it was about a quarter full he turned to the bottle of bourbon sitting next to the coffeepot and proceeded to fish the other three-quarters of a cup out of it and into the mug. One good thing about the WurmDome, he thought as he took a swig, was that he could consume larger quantities of his favorite beverage with absolutely no (or at the least, very little) collateral damage to the internal workings of his weathered body.
Well, in his present situation there was not a whole lot he could do to monitor the young intruder. He would only be able to follow his progress with the other sensors he had positioned around the Complex if the man crossed through them. At one time Max had spent almost an entire year doing almost nothing but working on the designs of both sensors and being completely unqualified to do the job had not deterred him much. Learning the ins and outs of genetic engineering had not left him much time for anything else but he had always been particularly fond of anything that had to do with electronics. Ever since he was a little kid of no more than seven or so, he had been tearing apart any electronics and putting them back together again. Anything and everything that could be assimilated on the subject was. Then Max, in the latter years of high school, had decided to put his passion on the back burner and like a fool, followed some little flirt of a girl into a field of study that really meant nothing to him. But the knowledge of his younger years never left him. And the Complex had a very large, very complete technical library with books on almost every subject under the sun. Between those two sources Max was able to use that year cobbling together the very same sensors that he relied on today.
He smiled to himself while thinking on those years gone by. Remembering the following six months it took him to put up the sensors also amused him. He had set them up in concentric circles with twelve ever widening circles in all, spreading the full sixty miles of the WurmDome in any direction from the Complex.
So Dr. Max Kimbal sipped his coffee and started to watch the printout on the Wormhole as he settled back to wait for the second string of sensors to be tripped.

*****

It took Candlelite many days to travel the entire circumference of the strange wall and from what he could tell it ran in an almost perfect circle for hundreds of miles. He knew his trip was at an end when his sense of smell informed him that he was crossing a trail of his own scent at least two and a half weeks old. In all that time he had found nothing stranger than what had already been evidenced in the trees. Stalking off away from the young trees and deeper into the old, he decided to make camp and proceed in the morning.
Upon waking with the dawn of a new day he quickly shook the accumulated dew of morning from his bare skin and stepped through a forest lit with the gray of a sun not quite yet to rise. He briskly made his way towards the barrier of his curiosity. In making his journey around this thing he had yet to cross into the younger section of forest. Some instinct older than the ones newly arisen seemed to cry out against his entrance through this obvious curtain into the past.
Looking out at the young forest in front of him the cursed man shrugged back the shadow of superstition and stepped out of the old world and into the young. Crossing the invisible barrier Candlelite felt a slight tingle pass through his entire being that caused all of the hair on his body to stand on end briefly and then nothing, everything was normal again. He proceeded with caution, uncertain of these strangely familiar surroundings. Every now and again he would catch a fleeting glimpse of some small bird or woodland creature as it fled his approach. His progress was quick for he only stopped long enough to hunt or rest briefly and his journey became more comfortable as time passed with nothing out of the ordinary happening.
Candlelite was finally stopped by hunger, which until then had not bothered him because of a rather large meal he had eaten the night before. He resumed his trek after pausing for a quick lunch, all the while marveling at the apparent youth of the vegetation around him. He had never before been in a forest of this age and found its lushness rather refreshing though he found himself marveling less and less at his surroundings as the newness of it all faded to commonplace.
Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. Not moving he cast his senses around him like a net as he searched for the abrupt cause of his wariness. For two minutes he stood still as a statue before he dared to make a single step. Lost within his senses of smell and hearing he failed to see the small branch below his falling foot. This was Candlelite’s undoing. The dry wood snapped with a loud crack and his position was revealed. There was a brief rush of wind and with a roar a giant paw came crashing into his head. His brain reeling he went flying through the air, only a quick glance showing his assailant. A grizzly of tremendous size stood instantly over his battered body. Standing full length on hind legs the beast was easily twelve feet tall. Salivating jaws opened and closed showing off the three to four inch fangs the creature sported as teeth.
Time then seemed to slow for Candlelite as he struggled to regain his senses. He found himself thinking that there was something odd about this bear. While definitely of a grizzly persuasion there was some quality that seemed almost human about it. As if somewhere behind the pure bestial madness it was cloaked in, there was some glimmer of a lost humanity flickering behind its eyes and hidden in its soul. Before he could think anymore he was slashed by the bear’s powerful claws and flung bleeding through the air. The only thing that stopped his flight was a small tree that was little more than an old sapling and its trunk snapped like a twig as his body crashed through it.
Collapsing into the ground this battered man yet found the strength to lift his head and watch as his tormentor approached him once more. Bracing himself for the worse Candlelite could not help but cringe as the hellish monstrosity slowly dropped its incredible bulk and placed its huge paws on top of his chest. He struggled to breathe as the creature crushed the air from his body but he still managed somehow to feel surprised when the bear brought its head down to his and inhaled sharply. Then with a completely human air of surprise the bear suddenly removed itself from Candlelite’s chest and loped off into the trees.
Not pausing to wonder at the animal’s behavior Candlelite slowly dragged his abused corpse off into more concealing undergrowth. Finding a dense area of ferns in which to hide he allowed the shock of the violent attack to overtake him and lost consciousness.

*****

An owl was heard far off in the distance and a coyote howled its defiance at the night, Max Kimbal put the Honda 650 4-wheeler into neutral and shut off the ignition. He climbed off the bright red machine and began his search. It did not take him long to find the shattered tree or the large pool of congealing blood and from there his search led him even quicker to where his quarry was lying.
Candlelite was not nearly as concealed as he had thought himself. Max had a good view of exactly how tore apart the young man really was, which was to say not nearly as bad as he had thought he would be. In fact he seemed like he had already healed significantly. The right side of his head was covered in blood and beneath the blood and hair his face and scalp was showing with the mottling of deep bruises. His cheek was laid open to the bone and his right eye was black and swollen completely shut. He’ll be lucky if his jaws not broken, Max thought.
Not being at all practiced in the field of medicine Max left the rest of the trampled mans injuries for later inspection, went back to recover his 4-wheeler and soon had it parked at the young man’s side.
Attached to the rear of the machine was a small flatbed trailer with side-rails made of two-by-fours. With all the care a man of his age could manage, Max gently lifted the young man up and onto the trailer. When he was satisfied he remounted his vehicle and carefully began picking his way back to the Complex.
Max felt no need to hurry. It was dark and it would do no good to reopen the youngster’s injuries with callous driving. Even now the stasis had sunk in and with luck his charge’s body would hold together until they reached their destination and proper medical treatment.
It was lucky enough this man had been so fit before his unfortunate accident for he had made good time through the forest and in most of a day he had traveled as far as the fourth string sensors. It had been through the video lens of one of these that Max had seen the great bear make use of its giant paws and razor like claws. Not waiting to view the almost certain outcome of such a one-sided battle, the little scientist had, with little hope, set out to rescue the poor bastard. Or what would be left of him anyway.
He was very surprised to see that the bloody rag doll on the ground before him was still breathing. Not for once doubting this half dead man’s inability to explain his continued existence; Max lost no time in running possible scenarios through his head. Idly meandering through the forest on a trail only he could have found, thoughts of a fantastical nature tried to explain to him how the bear’s warpath had ended without the loss of life. Unfortunately nothing short of the miraculous entered his head. Finding no suitable answers to his questions, Max concentrated on moving his little vehicle at a slightly quicker pace through the forests dense terrain.

Candlelite’s first thought was that he must be dead. He could hear the steady drone of Satan's minions and could feel the rough gait of the monstrosity that must be carrying him. He did not open his eyes but watched as shadows flickered across the glare penetrating his eyelids. Not wanting to see what Hell looked like he lay there and did not move. Then the pain hit him like a jackhammer and a groan escaped his parched lips. Suddenly his jolting progress stopped and the strange experience with the bear came hammering back into his memory. He forced open his eyes and forest filtered sunlight flooded his senses.
A shadow fell over his inert body and looking up he discerned a black form standing next to him. That was when he saw the ‘demon’ that carried him was actually some kind of trailer. He tried to sit up and immediately fell back as pain washed over his mangled form.
“Don’t try to move.” The voice that spoke was soft but firm. “Right now the WurmDome protects you but if you break your wounds open you may not make it to see the Complex.”
Candlelite did not understand everything the voice said but he relaxed and opened his eyes again. The man was walking around to stand out of view at his feet. There was a metallic noise followed by a grunt and then Candlelite felt the shift of the trailer shocks as they compensated for added weight.
“My name is Max,” Max said as he knelt beside the broken man.
“Candlelite,” Candlelite gasped.
“Good to meet you,” Max rustled around for something in the pocket of his coat.
“I wish it could have been under better circumstances though,” he said wistfully as his search finally produced a small case from which he procured a loaded syringe. “Now don’t you worry Candlelite, you’ll barely feel this and then you’ll feel nothing at all.” And without another word Max stuck him with the syringe.
Almost instantly darkness began to descend upon him and as words of protest died on his lips Candlelite lost consciousness again.
Max replaced the cap on the syringe and returned it to the case. He then put the case back into his coat pocket while stepping down from the trailer. With one more look at his peacefully slumbering charge Max remounted the gate to its place on the temporary bed and locked it.
Resolving to keep the man drugged for the remainder of the journey Max started the bike and pushed on towards the Complex.

*****

There was no way to tell where their prey had gone. They had lost him shortly after he had begun his journey through the forest.
When contact was made in the city they had followed the target as it led them through a series of seemingly random maneuvers up and down the deserted streets. They had little trouble maintaining the tail. Most of his men had been in the trade for decades. A few, himself included, had been doing almost this very same thing for a couple of centuries. The life of a mercenary commando unit was never dull. Especially one whose primary field of expertise lay in tracking those unsavory anomalies of human nature better left in the history and superstition of a world older than this one.
Jeshux DuTerriux Jules had migrated to this ‘Earth’ along with the thousands of others from AnEerth. But unlike other immigrants, he had come when the Harashna- or wormhole, as the people of Earth called it- opened its radiance of color into his world almost at the first instant. He had followed hot on the trail of a very dangerous war criminal of his world, the most powerful sorcerer history had ever seen, Warlock Harmony.
Not willing to live up to his name Harmony had brought confusion and destruction to everything he touched. Chaos of an almost absolute quality was his meat and death of the most hideous nature his potatoes. One almost hesitated to refer to him as a man, for a man who carried the sin of his atrocities with so little effort could only be thought upon as a demon, a monster of the most diabolical nature.
Jeshux had led his battalion to the very peak of the Million Tiered Tower, which had been the seat of the Warlock’s power. He and his own had delivered bloody retribution to the vast hoards of Hell that inhabited this finger of infidelity. No evil could have stood in the way of Jeshux and the ferocity he brought that day. He smiled in remembrance of the courage with which his men fought.
The trip up those countless steps had been long and arduous. Unnumbered droves hammered at the mercenary force, always seeking to press them down. The steps were slick with the blood of man and beast and the air was heavy with the smell of slaughter and burnt flesh. The aura that permeated the very stone around them had sapped relentlessly at their will while the horrible monstrosities they had faced were in themselves a demoralizer. Yet they fought on, a mercenary force on a mercenary mission, and yet they fought. Jeshux men had a love for money and the power that it bought; it was a deeper love of their fearless leader that drove them onward and upward that day.
At the time it did not seem to matter that Jeshux mercenaries were fighting with body armor and plasma weapons. Harmony had his hordes, his hordes had inhuman strength, razor sharp teeth and claws, and at times the battle had seemed futile. Jeshux and his men may have been immortal but they still bled and died mortally. For every werewolf, vampire, goblin or ghoul that was slain it seemed three more would appear in its place. As if by magic the people of Earth would have thought but the people of AnEerth were not so naive, they knew that most likely it was magic.
Just when Jeshux had thought that good would be overcome by evil, that the last landing had been won just to be lost, there seemed to be some silent signal to retreat. A weary cheer had emerged from the parched throats of the remaining mercenaries. Jeshux cut it short with an impatient hand signal. Something had felt wrong and he looked around himself warily. His men were still there two or three hundred strong but the enemy had still been in the thousands, why the hasty departure? And about that time one of his most trusted lieutenants had called out to him.
A man named Marcus McAriicoys- Jeshux right hand- pointed to a narrow window. Little more than a crossbow slit, Jeshux pressed his face to it and what he saw was forever etched in his memory. It was the birth of the Harashna itself and being an educated man McAriicoys had recognized it just as Jeshux did. Fear had clutched at his heart and without pause, he ordered his men forward.
Unfortunately he and his men had reached the peak of the great spire just as the last werewolf loped across the landing, up a ramp and off the edge. Only McAriicoys and he had reached the ledge in time to watch it disappear through the Harashna but stunned only for an instant Jeshux immediately called for volunteers to follow him into the insane vortex of color.
Most decent folk would have said that Jeshux was the insane one. The fearless few, those that had survived the battle to stand on the Doom Tower’s parapet, knew better than that. They knew he would never order any of them to leave their homes or families against their wills and so every man standing had raised his hand. Regardless of what kind of ungodly hell they may have been destined for, they had all been willing to follow their leader into Death’s cold embrace. Jeshux had been warmed to the very core of his being at the many displays of love, loyalty and courage standing before him that day. Small liquid jewels of pride had crept from his eyes when he had been forced to choose his honor guard from those unnaturally brave souls before him. Blood spattered and tired Jeshux chose his men and sent the remainder of with McAriicoys to make a report to their employers. He then returned his gaze to the unnatural swirl below but only for a moment. Battered the military commander let loose a resounding war cry and led them whose lives had just become forfeit through the portal to what could have been damnation.
Jeshux was startled out of his reverie by a light tapping on his shoulder. He turned and was greeted by the grim countenance of McAriicoys. Lack of sleep creased his face and deep shadows lived under his eyes.
“What is it?” Jeshux inquired.
“We’ve recovered the trail sir.”
“Good. Prepare a squad and proceed.
“Sir, you realize that there’s something strange about this target.”
“Yes.”
“And then you realize that this target is like no other that we’ve encountered before.”
“Of course I do McAriicoys. We wouldn’t put so much effort into its capture if it was ordinary would we?”
“No sir, I imagine we wouldn’t,” McAriicoys frowned and rubbed his eyes. “We would just eliminate it like any other.”
Jeshux placed his hand on the weary man’s shoulder. “Old friend I know you’re tired, so am I, but if we capture this creature we may find a powerful new ally in our fight against the Black Sorcerer. And if not an ally, then we’ll gain new information, valuable information about our enemy that we cannot afford to be without.”
Jeshux smiled. He and McAriicoys went back a long time, centuries in fact and he had never looked so tired. He knew that McAriicoys would follow him into the depths of Hell, had in fact on several occasions. McAriicoys smiled back and Jeshux knew his weariness was just a reflection of his own.
“I understand what’s at stake here sir.”
Jeshux laugh barked out wild and uncontrollable. “Of course you do my friend.” He bit back his laughter with effort. “Of all of the men under my command there are few who measure up, that I call friend. You are one of three and number one of those three at that.”
Something had drained out of McAriicoys at the sound of his commander’s laughter and was replaced with the meaning in his friend’s words.
“Yes Sir!” McAriicoys threw a salute, turned and strode from Jeshux presence.
Jeshux sighed and walked over to an old padded chair. He sat down heavily and surveyed his surroundings. Besides the chair, the rooms only other furnishings were a small fold out table that was used as a desk and a five-foot tall fluorescent lamp. An old and crumpled map of the United States was tacked to the wall behind the table.
After their target had left the city it had become harder to track, almost as if it knew it was being followed. His men were all professionals extremely skilled, there was not any way the target should have known it was being followed. But it seemed that somehow it did.
They used infrared equipped micro-cameras mounted in ultra-light mini-chassis’ designed as a multitude of indigenous insects. They used dragonflies and wasps primarily because they were known for being quick and agile. Even when they lost first person line of sight they could still, from images received at Base Command, coordinate their movements with the target’s and stay on track. They also had at their disposal the use of ultra sensitive super snuffers. These machines were modeled on the workings of a bloodhound’s nose but infinitely more fine-tuned. So in the event that all else failed they could still work off of the musk that such a creature inadvertently left in its wake as it traveled. Still it eluded them.

*****

Candlelite awoke and it was dark. He almost panicked until he realized he was indoors. He was in a bed. It was warm. There was a scent of another man in the room but not with him now. All of these impressions hit him at the same time, one after another. His new senses, combined with his new instincts, worked uncannily to update him on his situation. He knew everything about his surroundings as could be ascertained with five senses in a matter of seconds.
He had an IV in his arm but it did not bother him.
The pain was still there but far away now, like the sun on a late autumn day. He tried carefully to sit up and found that he was able. He did a quick inventory of himself and was surprised to find that he was quite healed. Looking over he saw a hand held mirror sitting on the nightstand next to him. He grabbed it. What he saw shocked him. He had four long slashes going down the right side of his face, about eighty- percent healed. And his eye showed the barest hint of discoloration. He was famished, how long had he been out? It must have been for a while.
The door opened and Candlelite put the mirror down. A man walked in that looked familiar but he could not quite place him.
“Ah, I see you’re awake,” the man said. His voice was pleasant enough but there was something odd about it that Candlelite immediately identified as barely concealed shock.
He placed the voice at once though and said, “Hello Max. I’m feeling much better now.”
“Obviously,” Max replied.
There was still something odd in the other man’s voice so Candlelite gestured around the room, palm flat to the ceiling. “Thank you for taking care of me for so long. All of this must have put you out some.”
Max shook his head, “Not at all, not at all. In fact I’m astonished to see you in such a fit condition so soon.”
A narrowing of his eyes said what Candlelite’s voice did not, “What do you mean, sir? Exactly how long have I been here? From what I remember of before and the condition I’m in now, I would have to say a few weeks at the very least.”
Max pulled a stool from the corner and sat down next to the bed. He sat there quietly, saying nothing but looking with intense, analytical eyes at Candlelite. His eyes magnified behind the lenses of his glasses seemed to speak volumes about his ignorance and curiosity.
Candlelite became a little uneasy under the little man’s steady gaze and finally spoke again, “Well? How long have I been here man, longer than three weeks, four, five weeks, longer than five weeks? Tell me.”
Seeming to come to his senses Max shook his head slightly and took a deep breath before speaking, “Just a little bit over thirty six hours. It took me longer to bring you back, about three days or so since I picked you up after the bear attack and I was almost two in the rescue. It has been approximately six days since the bear first tore into you.”
Candlelite could do nothing but gape inanely at the man before him. His jaw fell open in shock and he could not say anything. Six days, how could that be? There was no way possible that he could feel as good as he felt in that amount of time, was there? Yet there had been nothing in Max’s speech or manner to even remotely suggest that he revealed anything but the truth, and besides what could possibly be gained from lying about something like that. Candlelite had known he was going through a major change in his life but nothing had happened to prepare him for something like this.
And speaking of changes. “Max,” he managed to say. “Could you humor me a little and give me the blow by blow of the days I’ve missed? Just from your point of view, for perspective. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”
“Is that so?” Max looked at him a bit skeptically.
Candlelite crossed his heart with one hand, “Honest Max, never.”
Max took a deep breath and stared at Candlelite hard. The boy was hiding something. Max did not think he meant any harm by it but all the same it was a little disconcerting, like he was being felt out. But Max was also sure that the young man before him knew next to nothing about where he was or the significance of the installation he was in. He felt in order to convey the tale accurately Candlelite needed to know why he (Max) was there, in the middle of nowhere and keeping an endless vigil so far from any person or other means of companionship. That and the fact he had not talked to anyone but himself in over sixty years! So he began first by telling Candlelite the origin of the Complex.
“Let me start from the beginning but not my beginning. You see a long time ago there was a man, he had an obsession. He believed there were other worlds besides the one he lived in. An infinite number of worlds in fact and absolutely none of them were any further away than the Earth itself, at least not in the conventional sense of distance as we usually think of it. No ungodly distances of cold, harsh space to traverse. No precious fuel to conserve in fragile ships manned by incompetent fools. It would be just as simple to get to any one of these worlds as stepping off a curb, walking through a door or any other of a number of analogous comparisons. This man believed this theory so wholeheartedly that he dedicated his entire life and accumulated fortune to the fruition of his dream. His name was Emelious Emerous Empliozio and when he dreamed he dreamed in dimensions.”
“Not your normal dimensions though; space, time, first through fourth and all of that.” Max was trying to keep it all in lay terms for Candlelite's understanding. “But it was in the parallel that he specialized in. A world, or worlds, that ran on the same principals and concepts of our own when dealing with nature and all of her laws. Worlds traveling down similar time streams as our own and yet, in the same breath, these worlds also managed to somehow occupy the same space as our own. A world if you will that we could, with our power and our technology, exploit for fun and profit.”
“Yes that's right, fun and profit. You see boy; Emelious Emerous Empliozio was a cruel, ruthless and greedy SOB. He would take advantage of anyone and anything; at any time or any place; for good reason, bad reason or no reason at all. He didn’t care about nothing except his parallel dimensions and although there was some amount of legitimate business going on in those days, money made, regardless of a person’s methods, was money earned. And so, despite his extremely ruthless ability for acquiring nearly incomprehensible mountains of cash, we were all very lucky when the only thing his son (an only child named Emelio Emery Empliozio) inherited, besides his ludicrous fortune, was his passion and obsession for the possibility of dimensions outside of our own.”
“So, directing the vast fortune that he had inherited upon his father’s demise, Emelio set into motion the wheels that carried the construction to its end. A more magnificent structure there never was, I'll give you the tour later, and built in record time to boot. It was then stocked and furnished with every piece of scientific equipment deemed necessary to explore and bring to reality this awesome vision. Also the Complex was fully self sufficient, with the capability to comfortably support up to seventy-two people. Then the time came to staff the great building. Only the best men and women from all around the world were hired. If it took four years to build and make the Complex habitable, then it took twice that long to staff it.”
“People were hired and fired and then rehired. Some quit, some were up and coming and so took the positions of some that were not. All in all it was a hectic time but eventually we were gathered, thirty-two scientists and thirty-nine other men and women of various trades.”
“Can we just get on with the last week, please?”
“Hush lad. You'll want to know about this, most people don't. I was one of the first considered and the last hired. Heaven knows that there were others more deserving than I. I was never quite sure what it was that Empliozio saw in me. I only met him on a few occasions, during social functions organized around various important breakthroughs. He never even spoke more than a dozen words to me in those times combined. But I was here all the same and working on a most extraordinary project, the likes of which the world had never seen. And with the almost inexhaustible funding of Triple E Enterprises it seemed as if for the first time people like ourselves may have had the chance to realize our dreams. Anyway, without the boring details, the day came when we finally achieved our goal; we succeeded in opening a wormhole into an alternate universe.”
“You've got to be kidding me?”
“It was supposed to be a wondrous, momentous and grand occasion. Everyone was there, from the very lowest dishwasher or gardener all the way to Emelio Emery Empliozio himself. We were kings and queens of the world. From here on out there would be nowhere to go but up. Unfortunately we were all of the combined knowledge and resources of some of the Earth’s greatest minds and nobody ever stopped to consider what opening this wormhole meant. Not a one of us, man, woman, rich or poor, even once thought to ask ‘Hey! I wonder, what type of world is this that we’re about to peek in on? What kind of culture have they produced? Are they civilized, friendly, will they welcome this uninvited intrusion into their lives or will they fear and hate us?’ No, none of us stopped to consider these implications. We were all way too caught up in the moment. Much too absorbed in what we had accomplished, what we were about to accomplish, to even stop for just one moment and think on the possible consequence of our genius. An all too common mistake of mankind, it seems. It’s a wonder that we haven’t learned our lesson yet.”
“Get on with it man. You're leaving me in suspense here!”
“So the time came. The wormhole was opened and there is no way to describe the intense wonder we all felt at the sight of it. (I’ll show you the thing in person during your tour.) Then at the very end of its expansion the very worse that we should have expected happened. An army of immense proportions began to march out of it. No sooner had the damned thing stopped dilating than swarms of troops began to emerge, almost as if the bastards had been waiting for that precise moment. Waiting, for Christ’s sake! How could they have been? And this was no ordinary army; this was an army straight from the deepest depths of Hell itself. No soldiers of human flesh and blood marched in its ranks. No, these were monsters, demons of the foulest sort. I have it all on video if you don’t believe me. We were overwhelmed almost immediately. Not a soul here was a fighter and even if we had been not a man on Earth would have been mentally prepared to face the horror we had unleashed.”
“It was a slaughter and I’ve no idea why I was chosen to live but chosen I was. In the middle of the carnage and death I cowered while a giant, bat-like creature I can only describe as a vampire prepared for my end. And then while my companions and friends died all around me, just as I was preparing to join them myself, a dark figure suddenly appeared in front of me. It was a man, finally, a man in the middle of all of this hellish madness, and while the carnage was unleashed around me this man just stood there. I could feel his eyes boring into my own and then he pointed at me. Pointed straight at my heart and grinned the demented grin of the damned. That was when my resolve shattered and I fainted.”
“When I finally came to, it was all over. Everyone was dead around me but I was still alive. The hellish army was nowhere to be found and yet the evidence of their existence was everywhere. I couldn’t help it, I fainted again.”
“To make this long story a bit shorter I buried all of my companions by myself. It took me nearly a full week and when the task was done I turned my full attention to the wormhole. Its constant presence had been a reminder to me the previous week but then its vigilance became unbearable. I shut down the entire project and fast. The wormhole persisted in its watch. Suffice to say it’s still here and nothing can be done to deactivate it, nothing. I’ve been here ever since, keeping watch and waiting.”
“So,” Candlelite chose his words carefully. “In a way, you’re partially responsible for the state of the world today.”
The boy’s words had not been intended to hurt. They had been no more than a statement of a fact and yet Max still looked glum.
“Aye boy, you could say that.” His words came out soft and bitter. “And as for you, the wormhole emits some kind of stasis field. This field, from what my instruments tell me, is in the shape of a dome. This dome is approximately sixty miles high and three hundred seventy-seven miles in circumference.”
Candlelite interrupted at this remark, “Yeah? I walked all of the way around it before I decided to enter.”
Max raised his eyebrows at that but he chose not to say anything. “Well, this stasis field causes anything that strays into its confines to stay the same age forever. How old would you say I am?”
“I don't know,” Candlelite mused, studying Max’s face. “About forty, maybe late thirty-ish.”
“Well not bad son, not bad,” Max shifted a little in his seat and crossed one leg over the other. “It was about sixty years ago that we opened the wormhole. It took us twelve years to accomplish our goal and I was twenty six when I was hired to work on the WurmControl project.”
Candlelite was not the least bit surprised at this revelation of age by the wizened little scientist. His grandfather had at one time told him tales of the world before the Arch-Sorcerer and his horrendous minions, this did nothing but confirm the time frame that was in his own mind.
Max was speaking again with the oratory grace of the born storyteller, “And this stasis field is the only reason that you survived long enough for me to find you and bring you here for treatment.” Max narrowed his eyes and peered at him the way he had before. “You should have seen yourself. That bear had left you in a bad way. You’re very fortunate I had the foresight to construct and install multiple strings of sensors. You were also fortunate you had just past by a set as the bear attacked or I would never have thought to look for you until curiosity sent me looking.”
Candlelite looked somewhat abashed at the next words spoken but was still able to return the scientists gaze.
“This stasis field still does not explain the accelerated rate of your health these past six days though.”
Candlelite shook his head in wonderment. Throughout the final part of Max’s tale he had kept waiting for the accusation to come. More so he expected it to come after these final words but Max just sat there, waiting for Candlelite to shed some light on the mystery.
Instead the young man heard what his body had been telling him for some time now. “I’m starving Max. What have you got to eat around here?”
A look of disappointment flashed across Max’s features for a split second and then he shook his head and smiled.
“Of course you are. At the rate your body must have been burning energy to heal that fast it’s no wonder you’re famished. Well boy, what say you, can you walk?”
“I think so,” Candlelite grinned.
Max stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed. He removed the IV from Candlelite’s arm and hung the line on the same hook as the saline bag.
Candlelite threw back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. His feet touched the floor and he stood up slowly, testing his weight. When he was fully erect he turned and looked at Max. Max frowned slightly and led the way first to some clothes and then to the food.

*****

The room was dark, only illuminated by a small lamp set on a small table next to a small chair. The room was small also with a large mahogany door inlaid with fine strands of silver and gold, very ‘old- school’ styling. These precious metals were twirled, entwined and twisted into strange Celtic-like symbols of power. These symbols though quite new to Earth were themselves beyond age. They were a sealing spell of great power. A spell brought into the world by the Warlock Harmony, Dark Lord, Arch Sorcerer of AnEerth and now Supreme and Undisputed Ruler of all of the great green Earth, at least what was left of it.
Harmony sat in the small chair in the middle of the small room. He was cloaked in a plain black robe made of soft wool. Besides a gold chain he had around his neck, he wore no other ornaments. He was from a very different world than this and had yet to gain any understanding into the strange clothing worn by the inhabitants of this one. His eyes were closed and his face shadowed by the deep cowl of his robe, which was almost never seen from over his head. He sat in a meditative trance, in deep contemplation of the events he had set into motion for himself.
He had worked long and hard to gain the power and control he possessed now. Almost a thousand years had passed since he had split his mother with his birth, causing her death in a quick and brutal fashion. He had used his many, many years of life to learn and hone his sorcerer’s powers to the peak of perfection. There was not a single wizard, witch, warlock, druid, sage or sorcerer on all of AnEerth that could oppose him. Unfortunately, for all of his vaunted wizardry, he could not face the combined might of AnEerth’s magically gifted champions alone. And unlike the powers of good, the minions of evil could not be as easily persuaded to join in a cooperative effort. So, he had been forced to flee here, to this Earth, a rather pathetic world by his standards, all too easy to conquer and reshape as his own.
Harmony’s brow furrowed a bit at the memory of his flight. Forced to flee, Baugh! And not even by the combined might of wizards, witches, warlocks, druids, sages and sorcerers but by a common mercenary soldier, the damnable Jeshux Jules and his deplorable desperadoes. Jeshux would rue the day he took the contract on his head. And rumor had it this cursed man was now roaming about Harmony’s new paradise, tracking down and murdering his faithful followers like common beasts to be hunted. Also, rumor had it he had abandoned the bounty, now pursuing Harmony as a matter of honor. Honor, for Death’s sake! Who did anything in the name of honor anymore? What an outdated concept.
No matter, Harmony’s eyes opened and he stood up abruptly. The matter of Jeshux and the opposition would soon be no matter at all. The dark paths of AnEerth were his to twist at will and this new home of his had provided him with sorceries he had never before conceived. It was a pity that the people of Earth looked upon their past with such incredulity. If they had not abandoned the ways of magic in their single minded pursuit of science and technology, Harmony would not have stood a snowballs chance in Hell of the swift takeover he had accomplished. He had done nothing but study the arcane arts of Earth since his arrival and he was now, after sixty years, as adept at Earth magic as he was at AnEerth magic.
His force of human combatants was at least a third of Earth’s remaining population and growing every day. With the combined brainwashing techniques of science and magic, the normal setbacks to be expected in a slave army were not a problem. By the time he was ready to march back into AnEerth and take the rightful position as ruler of his home world he would be unstoppable.
And so the dark wizard’s contemplation ended. With important matters to attend to he strode from the small room dreaming big dreams.

*****

Candlelite was bloated. He had not eaten that much food since he was five years old. Max had sat across the polished granite table the entire time that he had ate. Only getting up to replenish Candlelite’s plate, his eyes had never left the young man.
“Better now?” Max inquired.
“Yes, much.”
“Good, good. How would you like a tour then?” Max pushed back his chair and sat up.
Following suite Candlelite did the same. He wondered about the scientist. What kind of guilt did this man carry that made him continue his vigil for all of these years? What drove him to do what he did in the first place? And what did he think of Candlelite himself? He was obviously a nice guy but how nice would he remain when he found out about Candlelite’s other life? How it was that the man seemed oblivious to it so far, Candlelite had no idea. He pondered a couple of scenarios in his head but Max did not seem at all close to how dense he would have to be in order for any of them to play true. Oh well, he turned his attention to what Max had to say.
“...as it was I got lost quite a bit the first year or so I was here. I was actually known by most everyone as the absent minded professor because of my continual lack of any kind of sense of direction whatsoever. I was always in such a hurry, as I recall and yet could never seem to get anywhere without first stopping to ask for directions. Rather embarrassing after a while though.” Max stopped in front of a door and shook his head slightly.
“Funny how things change,” Candlelite responded as he followed Max into a half lit room.
“This is the monitor room,” Max said sweeping his arm about in a broad circle. “From this room I can tell what’s going on anywhere in the Complex or in the area covered by the WurmDome.”
“It was in here that I saw you when you first entered the forest.” Max walked over to a gray console and pressed a small button. A stack of monitors came to life and Candlelite was shown a variety of forest scenes.
A printer on the opposite wall suddenly came to life spitting out a few sheets of data filled paper. Candlelite walked over and took a look at the bottom sheet. As his eyes focused in on the jumble of words and numbers Max came and stood beside him, peering at the paper over his shoulder.
“Data stream from the wormhole.” Max pointed at the computer bank sitting next to the printer. “This computer is data-linked with the system that runs the wormhole program. With it I can monitor any and all wormhole activity. I can tell you how fast the breeze that’s blowing into the wormhole is going down to the thousandth of a mile, an extremely accurate piece of machinery.”
“And speaking of the wormhole, let’s go and see it firsthand. Shall we?”
Max turned and led Candlelite from the monitoring room. Taking a left down the hallway they strode along at a fairly brisk pace. Candlelite suddenly came to a decision and cleared his throat.
“Max, how do you feel about the invasion?” he asked.
“I’m not entirely sure how I feel about it right now. Let me tell you though, at the time I was terrified but only for a short while though. I went pretty numb. I imagine burying everyone you cared about and then some will do that though. Right now I’m just tired. I’m tired and I want it to end.” That was when Max raised an intuitive eyebrow, “Is there something on your mind boy, something you want to share with me?”
Candlelite stopped as they came to a set of double doors and Max turned to face him, his face a somber image that quickly sobered Candlelite’s thoughts.

*****

Jeshux stood outside the Complex for the first time in years and stared up at the perfect walls. From the outside it seemed little had changed but Jeshux knew the old scientist had been busy. A busy beaver indeed though it still had not been a problem for his men to disable the jury-rigged sensors and alarms that the good doctor had seen fit to install. There was no need to sound the alarms prematurely, now was there?
After chasing their quarry all across the country for months, they finally had it cornered. And none could ask for a better place in which to apprehend the beast. What with the wormhole’s time dampening field effectively disabling the creature’s nighttime advantage, the remainder of this operation ought to go smoothly.
“Commander,” The ear mike squawked loud in Jeshux ear and did not wait for acknowledgement before it continued, “We have two humanoid subjects approaching facility doors one and two. Subjects identified as Max Kimbal and mission target. Do we have the go ahead…..over?”
“That’s affirmative. Take your positions and wait for visual confirmation. Door is mark. On mark, follow my lead. No deviations. I’d like to do this without any violence if possible.” With orders relayed Jeshux keyed off his mike and shouldered his rifle.
Time stretched on into eternity; at least it seemed like it for the soldiers who waited. After the long and difficult chase the target had led them on they were all eager with anticipation for this mission to be concluded. Really they only stood ready for two minutes before the huge double doors that were the main entrance of the Complex swung slowly open.

*****

“Well Max, it’s just that you've gone above and beyond in your care for me this past week and I don’t want any strangeness or suspicion to make you think less of me.”
Max looked long and hard at the man before him, a look that Candlelite would often receive from this small and unimposing scientist without fully getting used to it.
Not to be stopped now that he’d begun though, Candlelite plunged ahead with his confession. “Max, there’s something peculiar about me, other than what you witnessed. You see, about a year ago I had an encounter.” Candlelite’s eyes searched the air around his head while he tried to find the words he wanted. “I had a run in with another wild animal, except that time there wasn’t any wormhole energy to save me.
Max’s eyes went a little wild and he unconsciously took a half step back.
“Hold on Max,” Candlelite pleaded hands up and palms out before him. “It’s not like you think, man. Just listen to me a minute, alright?”
“It was a werewolf,” Max stated, his pulse slowing slightly.
Candlelite sighed and shook his head sadly, chin dropping to his chest. “Yes.” Then, up came his head, blue eyes aglow as they found and pierced Max’s own baby blues. “Yes Max, that’s right, it was a werewolf. I was in Washington, on my daddy’s ranch, chopping firewood from branches that the winter snows had brought to the ground. I didn’t have a snowballs chance, if you catch my drift.”
Max had initially gotten a good feeling from this young gentleman, all those days before. A moment ago it had almost died, but the truth he was now hearing kept it alive. Knowing what it must be costing Candlelite to make this revelation, he stepped closer, his features softening.
“It’s alright lad, take your time.”
Candlelite’s inner flame went out suddenly as his words brought acceptance, not fear. His shoulders sagged and his voice dropped to an almost inaudible whisper. Max had to lean closer to hear what was being said to him.
“I almost died. From what I’ve heard, I guess I should have. Some of those first nights, I wished that I had. So I left. I had to. At first it was like I was a wild animal. Every night the change would come over me and I wouldn’t know what I was doing until the next day when it would come to me in bits and pieces. Like fragments of a really horrifying nightmare.”
Candlelite stopped and took a deep breath, banishing unwanted memories. And then a bit louder he continued, “It has gotten easier though and as far as I can tell there isn’t any other creature quite like me. Not only have I become the first shape shifting werewolf anywhere but I also maintain full time awareness of self during my night cycle.”
Adjusting his glasses to a higher position on his nose, Max cleared his throat and started to speak. Then he thought better of it and all that came out was a, “Hmmm.”
“And that’s my story Max,” Candlelite concluded as he watched the scientist’s reactions.
“Well my boy,” Max began slowly. “That would explain a few things. But let’s not dwell on it too much, all right? I’d like a chance to think a little to myself. What say we continue your tour, shall we?” And without another word Max turned and pushed on through the big double doors.
Candlelite heaved a small sigh of relief and paused for only a second before he followed.

*****

The doors opened abruptly and the small scientist was the first to emerge. Jeshux held back, not wanting to jump the gun and spring the trap too early. A second later his patience was justified as a second person walked into the waning afternoon sunlight.
Not quite yet, Jeshux cautioned himself again. He wanted some distance between his quarry and the door from which it had just emerged so he allowed himself a quick moment for observation. It was almost hard not to think of it as a man. Walking on both legs, with no evidence to the contrary, the creature could easily have been mistaken as such. But Jeshux was no fool and he had been tracking these monsters for almost a thousand years now. And while none had ever worn a human form, there were some tell-tell signs that any trained observer would spot. The grace in which the beast moved, for instance, for no human on either side of the Harashna could match the pure animal ease with which this ‘man’ carried its frame. There was also the almost imperceptible pause to test the air just before leaving the shelter and safety of the doorway, animal survival instinct at its best. And last but not least, the faint glimmer of the sun’s reflection in its eyes as it passed from shadow, to sunlight and back again. Although not seen as clearly as it would have been in an animal of non-human descent, this last sign alone was all but unforgivable. And compared next to the others? Well, there could be no other explanation. Only still-frames could possibly show this type of effect in a human’s retina.
Jeshux took in and processed all of this information within the space of a few seconds. The target, probably only instinctively wary, moved quickly from the sheltering doorway and upon regaining the side of its host appeared to become more at ease. He had more than enough space between the target and the building and so with practiced ease, he stood from the place of his concealment and trained the sights of his weapon on his target.
“Halt! You are surrounded!” Jeshux heard McAriicoys shout from his left.
Three soldiers had risen at the same time that Jeshux had, their coordination so precise it bordered on telepathy. McAriicoys was to his immediate left with one other man. Another mercenary had risen to his right, while below; four others had crept in stealthily from the back to effectively deny the target any means of escape.
“We have you surrounded,” McAriicoys repeated now that he had the bewildered men’s full attention. “We’ve also positioned snipers at all points. Do not run or you will be shot.” Adding emphasize to his words a shot from a fifty caliber rifle sounded suddenly and threw up a cloud of dirt next to the young man’s left foot.
A give-away shot, Jeshux liked to call it, for while proving the point it also revealed the snipers position. Of course no give-away sniper would ever be positioned without a back up sniper, placed in a different spot in the same vicinity, which would fire from the same direction thus allowing the give-away to sneak off and reposition. Or, as was the case here, the give-away retreated to a predetermined location to act as radio liaison with Base Command.
“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing here?” the older of the two captives demanded suddenly.
Jeshux was not the recognized leader here, as the man’s remark, directed at McAriicoys, indicated. Done intentionally, as a standard precaution against enemy fire, Jeshux had designed his entire plan around McAriicoys being thought the leader of this operation.
McAriicoys, never missing an opportunity to act the hard ass, was quick to answer. “You aren’t in any position to make demands, my friend. Now! Both of you, on the ground, face down with your hands behind your backs!”
A split second hesitation as the two men exchanged glances had McAriicoys barking, “I said, NOW!” with Jeshux quick to punctuate with a short burst from his rifle. And with bullets striking the ground around them, both men suddenly found themselves quick to comply.
Now, with both faces in the dirt, McAriicoys stopped to give each of his men a seemingly casual glance of satisfaction. He did nothing by way of acknowledging Jeshux almost unperceivable nod except flash a lightning quick hand signal to the four men who were still in concealment. Two from a side, these four men moved in towards the captives with a speed born from anticipation. Each man was uncoiling a length of sturdy looking rope as he came and everyone had their attention focused on them. No one was aware of anything else until it was too late.

*****

Candlelite paused in the entryway of the Complex and intentionally sniffed the air before following Max out into the open. He thought he had detected a scent of something, subtle. It wasn’t bad, per say, it was… slight seemed the only word capable of accurately describing what his nose had just perceived. Yet ‘slight’ did not seem to have much going for it as a description, accurate or otherwise. Oh well.
Slowing down as he regained Max’s side, Candlelite took a deep breath before he said, “Hey Max, why didn’t you say anything about my nightly transformations?”
“Isn’t it obvious, my boy?” Max gave him another of those looks before continuing. “You entered the territory covered by the WurmDome before dark.”
A surprised, “O-oh!” was all that Candlelite managed before the strange voice called out loudly.
“Halt! You are surrounded!”
The four strange men with guns seemingly appeared from nowhere. Hearing the faint crunch of gravel, Candlelite turned to see four more armed men moving into position from behind.
Looking forward again Candlelite heard the leader say, “We have you surrounded. We’ve also positioned snipers at all points. Do not run or you will be shot.” Then there was a gunshot and Max jumped slightly as a slug tore into the ground next to his companion’s left foot. Candlelite did not move at all as his natural senses pinpointed where the shot had come from.
“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing here?” Max shouted.
“You aren’t in any position to make demands, my friend. Now! Both of you, on the ground, face down with your hands behind your backs!” The leader gestured wildly with his rifle. “I said, NOW!”
A burst of gunfire suddenly sprayed from the barrel of the rifle being held by the man to the right of the leader. As both men dropped to the ground Candlelite thought to himself, now there’s the true leader of this operation. No grunt would have fired that rashly without orders, as the silence from the other men’s rifles verified.
His nose now identified ‘slight’ as the same soldiers that had been following him these past weeks. His eyes darted from side to side as his nose warned that Max and him were about to receive some more company, which ran up from either side with ropes. And just when it smelled and looked like it could not get any worse, his ears spoke up suddenly and informed him they were all about to have an uninvited guest drop in on the festivities.
Reaching out slowly Candlelite tapped Max and whispered, “Hey bud, you might want to get ready to run.”

*****

The four men with rope approached the two men lying on the ground cautiously. They had all volunteered to have the honor of trussing the captives upon their being taken into custody and so knew full well the terrible potential of what could possibly be unleashed. Unfortunately for these four men no amount of knowledge or caution could have prepared them for the wicked surprise that fate had in store for them.
Jeshux was extremely satisfied with how smooth the wheels of this operation were turning. The searching and diligent tracking- performed tirelessly by all of the men in his command- combined with the careful planning of long nights spent huddled in a corner with McAriicoys was finally beginning to pay off and seemingly in spades. And so caught up, basking prematurely in the warmth of his ‘victory’, Jeshux made the unusual mistake of letting his guard down slightly. And however slight this overlooked precautionary detail was, it ultimately led to Jeshux being caught completely by surprise along with the rest of his celebrating soldiers.

*****

Alas now truly begins the end for this dream of these twin worlds intertwined destinies. And being a dream dreamt by fate- who has, in its eternal slumber of creation, dreamt into existence all the countless species and all of the uncounted realities these fragile yet powerful creatures respectively occupy throughout the multiverse- this dream is both flawed and perfect. A flaw created from a grossly misguided attempt at control, a single imperfection, finding life from the twisted seed of one man’s tyrannical need to try and cheat his fate. His dark ego the ill plotted blueprint that has grown into the groundwork for the twisted, rut plagued path on which both worlds find themselves blindly traversing. But perfect also. For any path in every dream, whether planned or unexpected, well trodden or little used, is created as perfection incarnate and has within itself the solution with which to combat its flaws. Its existence just one of many details painted across a sleeping Fate’s dream canvas. A flaw cannot be without perfection just as negative cannot be without positive. Neither good nor bad, they just are and need to be in order for the balance of a universe to progress on toward its eventual conclusion.
In the case of a multiverse continuum, the forces at hand are multiplied in their power and as will be seen, are compoundedly complex in the progressive sequence of events.

*****

The bear had not always been confused about its existence. It could vaguely remember a time when things had been simpler and as impossible as it seemed, the bear was pretty sure that at some point it had not been a bear. Also, the bear had been a bear but at the same time, not a bear.
The bear did not so much remember these things as it felt the rightness of them. It had not really felt anything about these things in quite some time though. Not until recently when it had an encounter with a scent that was so familiar the bear was instantly reminded of them again. In this encounter the bear had been wandering about in its usual fashion, just enjoying the day as much as a bear could enjoy a day, when it was brought up short by the sight of a strange two legged creature.
Feeling there was a kinship with itself and this creature the bear decided to have a closer look and perhaps a little chat with this somewhat familiar animal. Unfortunately things did not go as the bear had intended. Thinking in a decidedly bearish way, maybe this animal is like me, the bear rushed over to say hello in typical bear fashion.
“Hello,” the bear roared as it gave the two-legger a friendly bear tap against its head.
The creature did not react like a bear though. Instead of a bear tap back it was lying on the ground. So the bear, trying to impress this strange but somehow attractive creature, stood up to show off its rather impressive self. The animal still just laid there.
A little unsure of itself now the bear bellowed down at the animal at its feet, “I’m a bear. Are you a bear?” and not getting a response the bear took a swipe at it, which caused it to go flying through the air.
“Hey! I’m talking to you,” the bear roared, not without a little irritation at this rude behavior.
Unsure of this animal’s bear-hood, the bear lumbered over to where the creature had landed, “Are you alright?” it asked and put its paws on the things chest for a better look. Bringing its head close to peer nearsightedly at its new friend, the bear inhaled deeply through its nose.
And that was when the memories all flooded back. Jerking its head up in surprise, the bear paused for only an instant before lumbering off and away from its playmate.
Confused anew by this turn of events, the bear wandered aimlessly through the forest for some while. Trying to make bear sense out of these new old feelings though, proved to be quite impossible and led the bear to decide that peace of mind could probably only be had from the strange two legged animal that had reawakened them. So as the night gave birth to a new day it found itself on the creatures trail as it meandered through the woods in the direction of the funny caves that lay at the center of the bear’s territory.
Now days later, the bear- bearing witness to events involving its strange friend and many other creatures of similar anatomy, and not really understanding these animals or their proceedings- did understand its only hope for peace of mind was about to be taken away. Allowing this to happen was unthinkably unbearable and so spurred this bear- mighty grizzly, queen of the North American forest- prepared itself to charge.

*****

The bear, seemingly, came from nowhere. Jeshux men did not have a chance. As the first thundering roar was heard it was already in their midst and by then it was too late.
His men scattered and lying in the dust Jeshux could only watch in disbelief, from his position among them, as the great beast gathered speed and attacked the four soldiers below.

*****

Candlelite saw the men on the hill were prone on the ground and seizing the opportunity, grabbed Max by his shirt and hauled him to his feet. The frail scientist never hesitated, as soon as he was on his feet he was off at a dead run for the Complex doors. Candlelite’s own retreat, however, was cut off by the sudden appearance of a two thousand pound grizzly bear sliding to a halt in front of him.
Feeling a tiny surge of fear travel the course of his spine, Candlelite’s eyes quickly locked with the bear’s. A low rumble from the animal’s larynx blew back the hair from his face and without fully understanding the logic, or lack thereof, Candlelite jumped to its back.
The bear, not even waiting for its rider to be seated, turned and headed in the direction of the wormhole. It did not know why it allowed this strange rider on its back. It also did not know why it was headed in the direction that it was. It only knew that the feelings blowing around in its brain were driving it harder than any instinct or animal urge ever had. The funny caves were little more than a blur to the bear’s perceptions as it flew by them. The trees and flowers were the same; a fantastic blend of smells all combined into the wonderful scent that was nature.
Candlelite could smell it also. From his precarious perch on top the bear he thought to himself, So much for stopping to smell the roses. He had to admit to himself that most humans never knew the pleasures their limited senses deprived them of. Can’t miss what you’ve never had, he supposed. That was one way in which this curse of the werewolf had been a blessing; he was able to experience God’s green earth in a way that most men would kill for. He grimaced at the thought. He had killed for it and nothing was worth that sense of murder.
The incredible sight of the wormhole suddenly interrupted Candlelite’s thoughts as his large, somewhat unconventional steed plunged directly through it.

*****

“Damn it! For Death’s sake, damn it all to hell!” Jeshux cursed loudly. “We were so close.”
“Don’t worry, sir. We tracked the beast’s movements and they’ve both stopped just on the other side of the Harashna.”
McAriicoys stood at Jeshux right side looking somewhat bewildered. This was not a look that he was accustomed to wearing and it did not sit well on his face. After all of their years together it was a look that Jeshux had never seen before and it filled him with concern.
“McAriicoys, are you all right?” Jeshux asked.
“Tip-top sir.”
“Are you sure?” Jeshux inquired and lightly placed his hand on his old friends shoulder.
“As sure as I can be after being witness to what just happened,” McAriicoys answered. Then in a low and solemn voice, “Can you even believe the exit that boy just made? In all of my years I’ve never seen anything like that before, never.”
“Don't forget yourself McAriicoys. That ‘boy’ is no boy at all. And we have a job to do,” Jeshux retorted as the humiliation of the situation reared its head again.
“Of course sir,” McAriicoys said humbly bowing his head.
Then in a gentler tone, “You are right my old friend, it was a truly remarkable escape,” Jeshux confided. “Now let us see what can be done about the old man, shall we?”

*****

When Candlelite awoke he was disoriented and had a splitting headache. The disorientation was quick to pass but the spikes of pain being driven through his skull and into his brain showed no signs of disappearing quickly. His every muscle screamed in pain and it felt as if his entire body had been stretched well beyond its natural limits. When he sat up it took all of the strength he possessed and his first attempts at standing were a dismal failure. Once on his feet he went to rub the fog from his eyes, only to find that to do so felt like he was rubbing them with sandpaper.
Finally up and feeling somewhat himself again he began to turn and take in his surroundings. There was no sign of the bear that had carried him through the wormhole but Candlelite was stunned to discover that directly behind him, in its place, was the naked figure of a beautiful young lady. She was lying still and unconscious on the polished stone beneath his feet. Candlelite rushed to her side full of concern and curiosity. Kneeling he took her pulse and finding it beat strong and steady, stepped back for a closer inspection.
She was gorgeous. He guessed her age at somewhere between twenty and twenty-five and with a height of about five and a half feet tall she was the earthly manifestation of an angel. Silky red locks shimmering in the sunlight cascaded across milky white skin to her full nipples. Her perfect breasts were no more than two nice handfuls. A flat and well-shaped stomach led to her legs, between which he could barely see the beginnings of a light brown patch of soft, downy pubic hair. Her legs were smooth and flawless all of the way to the ankles. Her smallish feet stopped with dainty toes that gave Candlelite an almost overwhelming desire to start nibbling on them. It was definitely love at first sight, there was no way around it.
Satisfied that the girl was going to be all right Candlelite set out to explore his strange new surroundings. He found that they were on top of what appeared to be an immense tower. Going to the edge and peering down he discovered that they seemed to be at least a mile above the ground. It was just like something out of a book. He figured the base of the tower must be enormous in order to support the structure for he measured the diameter of the top deck at about fifty paces.
He was just deciding whether or not to begin the descent down the flight of stairs he had stumbled across when he thought he heard something, a human sounding noise. Looking over he saw his beautiful new companion appeared to be waking. Excitement overwhelmed him as he hurried across the stones to her side.
He reached her just as her eyes fluttered open. Remembering the way he had felt upon his own awakening, Candlelite bit back his flood of questions until she had a chance to recuperate a bit. Finally she seemed to notice his presence and looking up at him she managed to whisper, “What… happened?”
Her voice, although quiet, carried clearly and was like the tinkling of tiny golden bells. And her eyes, her eyes, Candlelite thought, were the most extraordinary shade of green that he had ever seen.
“I’m not entirely sure,” he finally managed to say. “I was riding on the back of a grizzly bear and then I woke up here with you.”
She closed her eyes and smiled what was quite possibly the most incredible smile that Candlelite had ever laid eyes on.
“Ah,” was all that she said
Candlelite waited a moment and then ventured a question of his own, “Um, ‘Ah’ what?”
“I remember now,” she replied cryptically.
“What do you remember?” Candlelite prompted.
The girl’s eyes opened again and squinting in the bright sunlight she attempted to push into a sitting position. Seeing her struggle Candlelite offered his support and together she was able to sit up.
“Thank you,” she said, smiling up into his face.
Her scent was intoxicating and with her clinging in his arms Candlelite barely managed a murmured, “You’re welcome.”
Letting him go she smiled again and said, “I remember thinking that you were to be my salvation.”
“Me?” Candlelite asked somewhat taken aback. “Why me?”
“Because,” she said softly and then softer still, “Because you are like me.”
“I am?” he asked becoming confused.
“Yes,” she answered.
“And how is that?” Candlelite wondered curiously.
She smiled at him again and then, lightly brushing the backs of her fingers along the length of his jaw, she said, “Because I am the bear.”

*****

Max was scared, scared for his life. The bear had come out of nowhere and Candlelite, Candlelite pushed him and then just disappeared!
He kept moving, no thoughts in his head, just kept on trucking. Finally he was through the door and home free, or so he thought.
He ran down a hall, through a door and into what had once been the ladies quarters. He was instantly surrounded by ruffles and enveloped with silk. Almost blinding him with their soft frilliness, these garments momentarily confused him and he went stumbling into a bench. Cursing as he bounced off a set of lockers the old scientist refused to go down. Using his momentum to carry him through the room he hit the door on the other side and slid crazily into a tiled hallway with arched sun windows down the entire length of it. Blinded anew by the glare of the sun Max slammed hard into another wall and almost broke his shoulder. He ran down the sunlit hallway for all that he was worth his shadow trailing behind him like he was sure his pursuers were.
Then he was back in his main command post, his watch center. With the locks thrown he finally felt a little safer. The walls and doors of this room were designed specifically to withstand a major assault from without. If at any time, someone decided they wanted control of the wormhole for themselves, the people of the Complex had wanted to insure that it remain unattainable and totally in their hands.
Max turned on the security monitors. Within a matter of moments he had a visual on all of the soldiers. He could tell they were looking for him and not having much luck at it either. Their standard search patterns had not yielded an entrance.
There were, of course, plenty of entrances but with the lock down of the inner asylum the entire Complex had also gone on security lock down. Unfortunately this left any intruder at a loss for only a short time. While all of the doors and windows were bullet proof and impact resistant, concussive force would after a time provide a way inside.
Max settled down to await the coming siege. It would not come for awhile yet but in the mean time there was not much to do except wait. The inner chamber was pretty much impregnable and Max thought the small force of men outside really did not have much of a chance of getting in. And even if they did possess the means by which to break through to him there was still the last ditch escape tunnel. There was only one small problem though; this tunnel would ultimately lead him to the forest just outside of the WormDome’s influence. After all this time if it came to choosing possible death or capture Max would choose to confront death.

*****

The barren plain seemed to stretch on forever. Stunted trees and dead cacti were all that the desolate landscape had to offer in the way of scenery. Whatever beauty this dead place had once had was long gone.
Candlelite gazed about with what bordered on dread, vaguely wondering about stasis domes but mostly about the girl at his side. The girl tightly clenched his hand and they stepped cautiously from the towers shadow. The direct heat of the sun glared down on them furiously, unrelenting.
“I would not advise your doing that.”
The sound of the words and the smell of the person touched Candlelite’s senses of smell and hearing at the same time. He whirled about and a moment later his gaze was locked with that of a pretty, young, dark haired and slightly plump woman. She was of about medium height, dressed in purple and silver robes, and somehow stood between them and the doorway they had just left.
“What the hell?” Candlelite exclaimed. “Who are you? How did you get here?”
“These same questions could be applied to you also,” the woman replied. “Although you did not ask the most obvious question.”
“And what’s that?” Candlelite asked.
“Why, what is it that I would not advise doing, of course.”
“Okay,” Candlelite rose to the bait. “What is it you wouldn't advise us to do?”
The young woman smiled pleasantly and said, “I would not advise your trying to cross the wasteland, for one. For two, and this is the reason behind the first, I would not advise your staying in the direct rays of that killing sun either.”
“And who are you to be advising us anything?” asked the girl at Candlelite's side.
“I am Witch Farewethor.”
Candlelite raised an eyebrow at this revelation. A witch would explain how this person seemed to appear out of nowhere. The real question now was could this witch be trusted. If she could, then she may prove to be a valuable asset, an asset that would offer strength and information in this strange new land. He decided to play high stakes and see what would happen.
He said, “I am the werewolf Candlelite.”
Farewethor looked at him a bit wide eyed and then suddenly erupted into gales of laughter. Holding her stomach tightly and bent over double she barely managed through clenched teeth, “The Werewolf Candlelite? Yeah right. And I suppose that your young lady friend there is the Nameless She-bear?” And then she exploded into another fit of laughter.
Well Candlelite was not so sure about this turn of events. He had not expected to be laughed at. And how did this witch know that his voluptuous young companion was a bear. And how had she guessed that he did not know her name? He had not even thought about that yet himself.
“Well actually, I am a bear,” his petite new friend spoke up. “And how did you know that I couldn’t remember my name?”
Farewethor stopped laughing and turned a long speculative gaze on the girl, as if she was just seeing her for the first time.
“Oh my lord,” she breathed softly. Then she turned her full gaze on Candlelite, “Who are you?” she demanded.
“I told you,” he stammered falling back a step. “My name is Candlelite.”
“Liar!” Farewethor cried drawing herself up to her full height.
The she-bear stepped between the two people and shouted, “Candlelite’s not lying!”
“Prove it,” Farewethor countered as silvered balls of blue liquid fire began to collect in her palms.
So the girl took a deep breath and unloosed the most terrifying bear roar that either Farewethor or Candlelite had ever heard. Candlelite looked surprised but for the most part remained calm. Farewethor however, she did not react as well. Instantly snuffing her fireballs she hit her knees, jaw-dropped and gibbering insanely.
“Oh my, oh my, oh my,” was all she could manage for a short period before finally exhaling, “Jeez.” and then falling quiet.
“Well alrighty then. I don’t suppose you would mind filling us in on what that was all about, would you?” Candlelite asked politely.
Farewethor looked up at him and said, “Oh my, I must tell the others.” And then, without another word, with a bright flash of light she vanished into thin air.
Candlelite threw his hands to the sky in exasperation.
“Great, just great!” he wailed. “What the hell was that all about?”
Coming up from behind him the she-bear wrapped her arms around him and said, “Come on let’s get out of the sun.” She gently guided him, still mumbling to himself, back into the shade to sit down.
“You know, now that I'm thinking about it,” she began after sitting next to him. “I really do need a name.”
Candlelite looked into her beautiful green eyes and replied, “Yeah, I hadn't even thought about it until that…witch, said something. Have you got any ideas?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Well? Let me hear them.”
“Actually, I've only got one idea,” she confided.
He took her soft hands into his own and asked, “What?”
Smiling shyly she blushed slightly and said, “I want you to name me.”
“What?” he asked again.
“Yeah,” she kind of laughed. “I want you to give me my name.”
“Absinthe,” he did not even hesitate. “Because that’s exactly what I was thinking when you first stared into my eyes. And I’m not talking about today either; I’m talking about when you were a bear and crushing the life out of me. That your eyes were the green of Absinthe. And I still think that.”
Absinthe jumped up and down and clapped her hands together giggling happily, “That’s perfect. And then you can call me Abbie for short.” She stopped jumping and clapping and climbed into his lap, kissing him passionately until he could barely breathe.
Candlelite was completely taken aback by the young woman’s ardor and could hardly believe the twists his life had recently taken but as he sat there, stunned from the intensely tender kiss, he thought to himself that he could definitely get used to having this girl in his life. After all, where else would he be able to find such a beautiful and innately positive person who was not only a shape shifter such as himself but whom also seemed to be falling in love with him as blindly and as wholly as he was with her. It was awesome, sudden, but awesome none-the-less.
“What do you think we should do now Abbie?” he asked her.
She giggled a little more at the sound of her new name and then answered, “Well, judging from our departed friend’s reaction to us, I would say that we don’t have to do anything. She’ll be back.”
“You think so?” Candlelite raised an eyebrow. He felt more than just a little distracted by Absinthe’s soft, warm body squirming contentedly in his arms.
“Definitely,” Absinthe said. “And I can almost guarantee she won’t be alone. She thinks that we’re important people or something.”
“Yeah, she sure bugged out quick after you delivered that roar. I wonder how she could have known about you.”
“You mean about us.”
“About us, what do you mean?”
Grinning and hugging him tighter she said, “She seemed to know about you as well. She only said what she said about me after you told her who you were. That means she knew me in reference to you and that she had to have gained her knowledge of us prior to her meeting with us, right?”
Looking at his new friend thoughtfully he said, “You know you’re probably right. How did you get so smart being a bear?”
Absinthe shot him a hurt look but smiled when she hit him.
“Shut up,” she said playfully.
“Seriously though,” he said. “I’m not sure if I’m entirely comfortable being in another world where the people have not only heard about me but have also heard about the girl I just met an hour ago in reference with my name.”
“I know how you feel,” Absinthe said. “But there’s not much we can do about it right now, unless you want to go back through the wormhole?”
“Back into the waiting arms of those soldiers, I don’t think so.”
Candlelite motioned Absinthe off his lap and then stood up. “I think I’d rather take my chances with the locals. At least they haven’t proven themselves entirely hostile yet.”
“Oh, not to worry Mr. Candlelite, you were lucky enough to have met with one of the friendly natives. Now if you would be so kind as to come with us.” The voice that spoke was deep and authoritative. Full of a power like none you would have been able to find on Earth sixty years ago, or even a thousand. It had the power to bend men to its will and Candlelite found himself turning around at the sound of that voice before his instinct to react to the unfamiliar sounds had even had a chance to kick in.
The man that faced them was tall. Dressed in a cloak that entirely concealed his body, he was surrounded by five others of similar dress and appearance. Judging from their clothes Candlelite assumed they were a military guard of some sort and he felt a little intimidated. If this had been a nighttime encounter he would have felt a bit more secure but since it was not he felt that it was probably a good idea to do as these men wanted.
Absinthe came up behind him and squeezed his hand reassuringly. She would follow his lead is what the squeeze said.
“Sir, you seem to have us at a disadvantage. Would you at least tell us your names so that we might feel a little more comfortable in your company?” Candlelite’s voice conveyed a confidence he really did not feel.
“I am Arch Druid Nefarious, as to the names of these others, they are of little importance. And now, if you are ready, let us depart.”
There was a blinding flash of light that Candlelite was sure must be for theatrics and then there was nobody left standing at the base of the tower. Only a little curl of smoke was left as evidence that there had been anybody there at all.

*****

“Scientist! Scientist, can you hear us?! Do you have any way in which to respond? Scientist, can you hear us?” Jeshux voice was starting to go horse and he was almost through dicking around with the old man. After all they did not really need him to chase the boy and his bear through the Harashna but it would be nice to have the Earth side watchdog aware of their cause and perhaps on their side.
“Alright already, what do you want soldier?” The voice had come through crystal clear from a nearby loudspeaker.
“It’s about time scientist. I’ve been standing in front of this camera for almost an hour!” Jeshux said a bit shortly.
“I know you have soldier,” the voice declared. “I had the sound off though. I wanted to see how long you’d stand out there yelling for me.” Laughter briefly followed this revelation. “You looked like you were getting a little fed up though, so I figured I’d crank up the volume and see what all your fuss was about.”
“Thanks,” Jeshux muttered under his breath.
“What was that soldier? I didn’t catch that.”
Jeshux did not find the old man’s levity very amusing. “Nothing scientist just clearing my throat, now if you don’t mind I would like to cut the crap and get down to business.”
“By all means soldier, what’s on your mind?”

An hour and a half later both Jeshux and McAriicoys were in the Complex dining hall sitting at one of the smaller tables with Max.
“But I still don’t understand why you felt you had to deal with us by force,” Max was saying.
“You have to understand, we have never dealt with anything like Candlelite before,” McAriicoys leaned across the table. “We had no idea how stable his personality was and therefore we didn’t know whether he was dangerous or not.”
“We couldn’t afford to risk it,” Jeshux stated bluntly.
Max raised a skeptical eyebrow at the mercenary leader and said, “Couldn’t afford the risk, huh, sounds to me like you were more willing to risk our lives than the lives of your men.”
“Of course we were,” Jeshux countered. “He could have infected you with his poison and you both could have been insane for our flesh. No man on our world has ever transformed from a werewolf bite and no man on this world has ever survived the transformation in a human state for longer than a couple of days. I’ve known and fought these beasts with these men, some of them for centuries and I wasn’t about to put any of them into more jeopardy than was necessary! They’ve all sacrificed so much already; their homes, their family, hell even their planet for Death’s sake! And after everything that I’ve asked of them already, after seeing so many of their friends already slaughtered for the cause, how could I ask for their souls as well. For Death’s sake, I'm no Warlock.”
Max sat calmly observing the two men during Jeshux speech and he saw the flare of conviction in McAriicoys eyes at his commander’s words. He knew that if he interviewed the men in Jeshux army he would see that same flare in their eyes. These men may be insane, he thought, but their cause is a good one and their sense of commitment and dedication to it is overwhelming.
“Alright,” he said. “You’ve sold me. So what’s next?”
Both Jeshux and McAriicoys sat back in their seats and breathed a sigh of relief. It had taken more to convince the old man than either of them had anticipated. They were both feeling exhausted but there was still much to be done before they could get any rest.
Jeshux cleared his throat and leaned over the table again before continuing, “I would like, with your permission of course, to station my men here and make the Complex my main center of command.”
It was Max’s turn to sit back in his seat as he thought the soldier’s proposition over. He could see what advantage Jeshux gained in having his men stationed here.
“Why haven't you just come in before now and taken the place by force?” he asked. “You have the manpower and you certainly haven’t lacked in opportunity. You could have easily killed me and taken over this place when you first came through sixty years ago. Why not have done this then?”
Jeshux was a little embarrassed when he answered, “To be honest with you, I just didn’t stop to contemplate the importance of this place. The Harashna…”
“Harashna?” Max queried.
“Sorry. Harashna is our name for wormholes,” Jeshux told him. “And this is the first one to ever be opened.”
“Ah, I see,” said Max. “Please go on.”
“Yes. As I was saying, The Harashna was opened by the Warlock Harmony from AnEerth, not Earth and he did this by using magic.”
“Magic, he opened your side with magic?” Max asked, not a little incredulous.
“Yes. Our world is a world infused with magic, unlike yours, which you seem to have evolved only along the paths of science.”
“But look at your weapons.” And Max gestured towards McAriicoys rifle where it leaned against the table. “Or your body armor, both are a make and quality of the likes that our science has only dreamed about in movies and books. How is this possible?”
“We are only soldiers, sir,” McAriicoys spoke suddenly. “We are not the ones to know these things. It is true though that some of our studies with magic have led to accidental breakthroughs in our scientific research. But we don’t really have time for this discussion tonight.”
“McAriicoys is right, I’m afraid,” Jeshux smiled at his friend. “But I’m sure there’s one or more among my men that would love to stay up all night talking of such things with you.”
“Yes, yes. Of course,” Max said with a yawn. “And no need to go on with your explanation. Seeing as how your end of your ‘harashna’ was opened with magic, you had no idea that we were over here using science to open ours. Correct?”
“Correct,” Jeshux conceded.
“And therefore,” Max continued. “You wouldn’t even have thought to consider that the Complex would be important in stopping Harmony.”
“Right again,” Jeshux growled slightly.
“I’m grateful you didn’t come back to do the job right as soon as you found out the truth of things, as I’m sure you must have at some point or another.” The scientist truly did look grateful as he said this.
“Actually,” Jeshux grinned at the memory. “We just never got around to it. Things kept popping up that seemed more important at the time.”
“And now we can see why, can’t we?” Max asked. “I've always said that everything happens for a reason.”
“Can we?” McAriicoys asked. “It would’ve been easier on us if we’d already had control of the Complex. Then the subject would be in our hands right now and I guarantee that bear would be a rug in front of that fireplace.” And he pointed across the dining hall to the giant stone hearth set in the opposite wall.
“Not to worry friend,” Jeshux said. “I’m inclined to agree with the good doctor. Although I am not sure what role he has in this play yet, I am sure our young friend and his pet are playing their parts on AnEerth right now.”
Max laughed, “That bear is definitely no pet. When I first found Candlelite, he had been torn up quite badly by it. Oh well though,” And he shook his head as he stood up. “I’m going to authorize you to use the Complex to whatever extent you deem necessary. But I’m keeping all the important information you need in my head and I’m going to sleep for at least six hours. So if you need me until then…well, don’t bother.”
“Not to worry scientist,” Jeshux stood up and extended his hand. “I’m sure we can handle things without you for a little while longer.”
Max shook the man’s hand and then McAriicoys also. As he turned to walked away he couldn’t help saying, “I’m sure you can soldier. You’ve been doing a swell enough job so far.”

*****

After the mayhem his hordes had visited on the poor fools who had been their unwitting welcoming committee Harmony had transported his entire army to the east coast of the continent. Not an easy thing for any one warlock to do, he managed to do it without too much effort and although the two worlds had evolved completely different cultures the planets themselves had still pushed their continents along basically the same courses.
Finding himself in the state of New York he was almost in awe of mankind’s accomplishments when allowed only the resources of science. It seemed remarkable to him that the people of this world could build these massive edifices, given the restrictions their lack of magic placed on them. He had since come to see even more extraordinary structures since his arrival and he was quite sure that some of the older achievements could not have been completed without the aid of magic. And the people of this world had absolutely no idea magic even existed until he had made his appearance.
Indeed they were poor fools to have lost such a necessary tool of nature. How it was even possible was beyond comprehension. Even Harmony’s own extensive research into the subject of Earth magic had revealed nothing that explained when or why these people had abandoned what was possibly their greatest attribute. All he had been able to discover was that whenever it had happened, it had started very gradually and ended very suddenly.
His new tower had once been known as the Empire State Building. He had commandeered it almost immediately upon his arrival on Earth. Although not the tallest building in the city he had felt drawn to it in some primal, unexplainable fashion. Uncertainty should never be cause not to do what is right and Harmony was not one to have ever been accused of doing the right thing, so there was no hesitation in making the building into his main operations center.
Looking out over the poorly lit streets of what was once a magnificent human city, he watched a nearly endless stream of ghoulish forms as they went about the business of building his empire.
The sounds of dragging feet and raspy breathing were not the only indication that something approached. Harmony turned to see the hideous visages of two of his top goblin commanders standing behind him. It is almost a pity, he thought as he looked over the details of their monstrosity, that werewolves are not smarter creatures because even when not being compared to a goblins scaly appearance they are still beautiful creatures, unlike these two disgusting specimens before me. They stood with hunched and misshapen proportions and would be considered the lowest race on the planet if it were not for the fact that they were nominally intelligent and capable of being educated. Goblins were also the least trustworthy intelligent species, unless of course, they had been completely cowed into submission first. And it seemed that only a person of magical ability could in fact accomplish this. But once accomplished, it was an undisputed fact that there were none more loyal than goblins.
“What do you want!” barked Harmony.
“Sire, we bear ill news,” the taller of the pair wheezed.
“And what’s wrong with that?” Harmony asked.
“This news is ill for us,” the second goblins teeth slashed its own face open with every word.
“Well what is it?” Harmony found his patience at last.
“There has been a disturbance in the Harashna sire,” again from the tallest of the pair. “The reports are that a man rode a bear through it after being cornered by mercenaries.”
“Jeshux!” the sorcerer hissed.
“Yes sire,” gnashed the short goblin.
“I should have known my lack of hearing of his whereabouts wasn’t sign enough that he had gone and abandoned his foolish vendetta against me,” Harmony stated as he strode past the goblins and exited the room with the two fiends close to follow on their master’s heels.
“What would you have us do, Milord?” the tall goblin slobbered.
“I want to know what Jeshux is up to,” the black mage mused. “Send a small force to investigate the situation.”
“Master, Neebling and I have already ordered the troops ready for departure,” the short goblin snarled as he indicated his companion.
“Excellent work Snoregg! You and Neebling make sure they depart at once! I expect reports from the preliminary force as soon as possible. Keep me informed of every detail, you hear! I want to know everything down to which men aren’t sleeping well at night. Understand?”
“Yes sir!” they both chimed.
“And what of the man and his bear?” asked Snoregg.
“I’m sure I’ll receive reports on their whereabouts from my contacts on AnEerth,” Harmony replied. This story would be confirmed in time and he would not trouble himself with the implications of the matter before it was. “As the only beings to cross the threshold of existence in over sixty years I’m sure they will become instant celebrities. I only want you two to concentrate on Jeshux for now. Understood?”
“Yes sire!” they both chimed again.
And knowing full well that they did, all Harmony had to say was, “Good!” Then he took the left fork at the next ‘T’ intersection and left his minions to their orders.
Turning towards each other the two goblins exchanged mutual grins of malice and then hurried off down the right fork to carry out their orders.

*****

The courtyard was enormous. The palace itself was even bigger. Neither Candlelite nor Absinthe had ever seen anything like it before in their lives. Although neither of them had ever been out of the United States castles were hardly uncommon. Both of them had a lot of book experience and had seen castles depicted in many ways, but nothing could have prepared them for what they saw.
Unfortunately they had little time to enjoy such a magnificent sight as their hosts hurried them into the interior with due haste.
“Come,” Nefarious motioned to Candlelite. “The king awaits an audience with esteemed guests such as you. But first your companion’s lack of attire leaves nothing to the imagination. ” He made a quick gesture towards Absinthe with his hand and the beautiful young woman found herself suddenly clothed in a plain but finely crafted dress that complimented and enhanced her natural beauty until she nearly glowed.
Absinthe gave a small squeal that was partly surprise, all delight and looked as if she were about to hug the glowering magician.
Candlelite squeezed her hand tighter to keep her from making a possible error in etiquette. “Would you mind filling us in as to why we are such ‘esteemed guests’?” he asked with bravado to cover his shock at the very personal displays of magic.
“All will be explained presently,” was Nefarious’ answer.
Candlelite bent down and whispered in Absinthe’s ear, “Man, you’ve got to love the hospitality of this joint. I hope the whole planet is as gracious as our ‘esteemed hosts’.”
“Come on, be nice.” Absinthe slipped her arm around his waist and squeezed. “All will be explained presently.”
“Now you’re starting to sound like Arch Druid Mono-tone.”
She smacked him playfully. “I am not!” They both laughed.
“Silence!” intoned Nefarious as they stopped in front of a set of double doors. They were easily the largest doors that the dimensionally displaced duo had ever seen. Towering at least fifty feet the giant portal was guarded by twelve heavily armored soldiers with swords sheathed and rifles at the ready.
“Within this chamber sits the most powerful man in all the civilized kingdoms of AnEerth, never before in recorded history has there been anyone wiser, fairer, or more respected than our great King. This is the man who now holds the fate of your lives in his hands. Tread softly.”
Nefarious crossed his arms and let his words sink in before turning towards the great barrier that blocked their path. With a sweeping gesture of his arms the magnificent doors swung silently inward revealing a reception hall that did its gate justice.
With the sudden bleating of a hundred trumpets a man dressed in green robes stepped forward from atop a flight of emerald steps and made the welcoming proclamation.
“To our honored guests, the Werewolf Candlelite and the Nameless She-Bear, we of the Cobalt Kingdom bid you welcome. As the foretelling of your arrival predicted over a thousand years ago, so have you come, from our world yet not of our world, traversing space but not distance, before you stood beside us in time and now you will aid us in our time of need; here as a blessing on all of AnEerth. And here to greet you, as such illustrious individuals deserve, are our great leaders- Lord King Zakeriah and Queen Mother Mega’N!”
The court barker stepped to one side of the sparkling stairway just as the ruby studded curtain behind him swept apart and revealed two beautiful thrones of solid silver. Sitting on these thrones were two impressive looking individuals. On the left was the king. Atop a shorn scalp sat a plain crown of gold. His features were grave on his thin face but a smile played at the corners of his mouth. A mischievous light twinkled in his eyes, the color of which was reflected in a goatee that hung limply from his chin. His queen sat with an air of arrogance, a look of amusement portrayed by her posture as a whole. A natural beauty she had no need for makeup and was an object of desire for the entire kingdom.
Candlelite cast a sideways look at Absinthe as Nefarious ushered them forward but she was intent on the sights before her and did not notice. Still having no clue as to what was going on, he steeled himself and moved forward.
“So this is the pair that is said will save not one world but two,” the king mused as they were stopped before the emerald staircase.
“Not much to be impressed with my liege,” the queen sounded bored.
“I could say the same of you, if your crown was mine,” Absinthe announced hotly.
“Why I never,” the queen sputtered as she rose to her feet in outrage.
“Sit down, Mega’N!” the king boomed without seeming to raise his voice. “These two young travelers are our guests and deserve respect as such.”
“Yes milord,” the queen grumbled sarcastically.
“There now, no harm has been done,” Zakeriah said, ignoring her snide tone. “And as for you young She-bear…”
“The name is Abbie,” she retorted giving Candlelite a fond smile.
The king’s paternal smile vanished instantly and his eyes narrowed just a touch.
“What is this? Our ‘Nameless She-bear’ seems not to be as nameless as was reported.”
Candlelite noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and looked slightly to his right just in time to see the witch Farewethor shrink into the shadows a little.
“Oh no your highness,” Absinthe interjected. “Until just after Farewethor left I couldn’t remember my name.”
“Hmmm,” Zakeriah began to entwine his fingers in his goatee. “And how is it now that you stand before us newly named?”
“Well sir, after Witch Farewethor left we,” and she grabbed Candlelite’s hand in hers. “Well, we realized that I would need to have a name. So I asked Candlelite to give me one.”
A general murmur began throughout the court as this revelation was made.
“Silence!” the king boomed, again without seeming to raise his voice.
As the crowd quieted Zakeriah spoke to Candlelite, “And what was the name that you chose son?”
Candlelite could feel his face going red as he mumbled, “Absinthe, sir.”
This time the court erupted into chaos as the people of the Cobalt Kingdom digested this news.
The king let the talk go on for a moment before again calling for silence.
“Absinthe is the name the prophecy speaks when referring to the end of the She-bear’s life.”
“What do you mean the end?” Candlelite asked as if the King had a knife to Absinthe's throat.
“No need to be alarmed son, at least not yet. I offer no harm to your beloved.”
“You don’t veil your threats very well Zakeriah!” Candlelite dropped all propriety from his speech.
A troubled look overcame the proud visage of the king as he pondered this turn of events and then stated firmly, “Not my threats Candlelite but the threats of a thousand year old prophecy. You must trust me when I say that I would never harm you or your lovely companion in any way and it pains me to hear that you think otherwise. Furthermore I would like to say that as for my own doubts about your identity, and believe me I had many, they have been firmly abolished by the very words issued from your lips.”
“I too may have judged you unfairly,” the queen looked straight at Absinthe but spoke to them both. “I waited not for the light of honesty and instead attacked from a place of ignorance. This ignorance was born from the belief that never in my lifetime would the prophecy be fulfilled.”
“If this prophecy has predicted so much then how could you not know it was going to happen now?” Absinthe asked.
“Nowhere in the details of the prophecy had it ever revealed the time of its passing.” The king sighed. “We have been forced into the study of its passages for many centuries and while many minor details were divulged to indicate the when of it, no major events were recorded to make them stand apart from any other random moments.”
“Aye,” Mega'N's frown only made her more beautiful. “The events that the prophecy told us would precede the coming of the Chosen Ones, were events that held a spot at almost any given time in our lucid histories.”
“What about Absinthe’s death!” Candlelite sounded desperate.
The queen’s hard features softened as she looked at Candlelite for the first time and spoke directly into his eyes, “Forgive us my friend. We have been told that such a thing may pass but as to the when of it, well that we just do not know.”
“Enough of this though,” Zakeriah interjected. “The two of you must be exhausted after so much excitement. A room has been prepared for your comfort. Please rest now and later we will be honored to have you both at our right hands for a dinner celebration.”
“Thank you your highnesses,” Candlelite and Absinthe almost said in unison before being led out by Nefarious.

Although the room that had been prepared for them was absolutely exquisite, Absinthe were not about to stay cooped up for long.
“Oh come on!”
Candlelite was sitting on the massive bed and shaking his head emphatically.
“No Abbie. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Come on!” Absinthe begged. “Who knows if we might get another chance? It’s not like we were told we couldn’t.” She came over and knelt in front of Candlelite and took both of his hands in hers. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
Candlelite had told her everything that had happened to him while they were descending the tower earlier and now he replied, “I don’t know. I just want some time to let everything sink in. So much has happened and I’m starting to have a hard time dealing with it.”
Absinthe could only recall vague bits and pieces from before their crossing through the wormhole and was completely enthralled with everything that was currently happening, Candlelite on the other hand was starting to feel a little overwhelmed by it all and now to top things off she was pressuring him to go exploring. He just was not very comfortable doing that right at the moment.
“I’m sure there will be plenty of time to check things out later,” he said trying to reassure her.
Absinthe though, he was soon to find out, was a very headstrong individual and when she was of a mind to do something there was not much that was going to deter her or convince her to do otherwise.
“Well fine!” She exclaimed exasperated. “If that’s how you feel,” and she stood up. “Then I’ll just have to go by myself.” Then she turned and headed for the door.
Candlelite jumped to his feet to follow her. “All right all ready, have it your way.” And without another word they went out the door together.
The hallway was empty, no guard at their door.
They paused and Candlelite asked, “Well, which way should we go?” And without hesitating Absinthe took off to the left.
The hallway continued for quite a distance before jogging to the right at a forty-five degree angle. They continued on until they were out of sight of their room and had been for quite some time, when all of a sudden the hall opened up into a stairwell with two sets of stairs, one on the left leading up and the other on the right leading down. They went down the right stairwell to the next hallway. After about thirty feet they came to another stairwell and headed down. Once at the bottom, Candlelite was surprised to find that they were outside. The stairs down had led them to a massive courtyard approximately one thousand square feet in size as close as Candlelite’s keen senses could figure.
“Oh my!” Absinthe breathed as she stopped by Candlelite’s side.
The courtyard was laid wall to wall with cobblestones worn smooth from many ages travel by the denizens of the palace. The surrounding walls were made of a smooth concrete-like substance of a kind not found on Earth. In the center of the courtyard was a small fountain from which many small streams flowed up and out. In the center of these surrounding streams sat an ornate sundial carved with many beasts, mythical and otherwise, some of which were unfamiliar to the two strangers.
The sundial read four thirty and the sun was just starting to descend into the west.
“You know,” Absinthe began. “I just realized that we don’t even know the name of this place.”
“The Cobalt Kingdom was what that one guy shouted,” Candlelite pondered vaguely as he looked about.
“Well I know that,” Absinthe poked him. “But I mean the name of this city.”
“Oh, you're right,” Candlelite replied as he looked from the sundial to the sun. “But that’s the least of our worries. What happens after the sun sets?”
Absinthes eyes grew wide as she absorbed his statement.
“You’ve got a good point. I hadn’t stopped and thought about that. I’ve been so caught up with being human again and with everything else going on also, well I kinda forgot.”
Candlelite turned and smiled at her. “That’s all right. After the protection of the wormhole’s stasis dome, I forgot myself. But it’s something to think about.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Absinthe said before looking at the sun. “But we’ve got some time. Let’s do a little more exploring first.”
Candlelite shrugged. “Ok.”
Each of the four smooth walls around them had arched portals that lead through their centers. The stairs entered the courtyard from the north wall so the pair continued their journey and exited through the south portal. This led them into a spectacular garden with rows upon rows of roses directly in front of them. It was readily apparent from the garden’s size that it would not have mattered which portal from the courtyard they had chosen any would have led them to these wonderful gardens.
“Wow!” Candlelite exhaled nearly at a loss for words.
Absinthe said nothing, she just clutched Candlelite’s left arm with both hands.
Both were obviously very impressed.
The gardens seemed to stretch on forever. Beyond the roses were beds of flowers, hundreds and hundreds of varieties. Some were in rows while some were laid out in an infinite conglomeration of circles, stars, shapes and designs of geometric versatility the likes of which had never before been beheld by either Absinthe or Candlelite. Some of this organic artwork was made up of conformities of single species of geneses. Others contained spiraling multitudes of plants all contributing their unique look and color to the beauty of the whole. As the couple strode through the vast stretches of photosynthesizing plant life they came upon patches offering up a bountiful array of berries. These patches contained blackberries, blueberries, huckleberries, grapes of all types, raspberries, boysenberries, salmonberries, a whole slew of others and some they were unable to identify, all of this abstractly arranged in a seemingly meaningless order.
Soon the flowers, shrubs and bushes gave way and opened up to an orchard that advertised an abundance of fruit bearing trees. There were apple trees, pear trees, plum, pear, cherry, peach, and an assortment of other magnificent food bearers. Not limited to just fruits there was also a mixture of nut yielding arboreal that included but was not limited to walnut, chestnut and beechnut.
As they progressed through this never-ending delight of greenery Candlelite felt his hand being squeezed tighter and tighter by Absinthe as her eyes grew wider and wider. It seemed Absinthe just could not open her eyes wide enough to absorb all of the proffered beauty that the garden was laying before her.
Neither Candlelite nor Absinthe had spoken as much as a dozen words since entering the never-ending garden but both turned towards the sinking sun at the same moment and silently but regretfully decided that their time there was up.
They traced their way back to the cobblestone courtyard. Hurrying slightly as they had stayed longer than anticipated after almost being swallowed in man’s creative display of nature, they re-entered the courtyard from the west portal. No sooner had they crossed that threshold than two flashes appeared off in the distance, slightly less than one second apart. Candlelite fell. Absinthe screamed and fell with him.

*****

The assassin was garbed all in black and looked something like Earth’s ninja but on AnEerth the concept was named -ninyiu- or stealthy one. The assassin though was neither ninja nor ninyiu but a hired killer of no mean reputation. Considered by many in her trade as the best in the world, she had only to sneak along the hallways behind her prey as far as the twin staircases to formulate her plan of attack.
As Candlelite and Absinthe traveled lower passages to eventually come to the great garden, the assassin chose to follow the left stairway up and ever up until it finally broke upon a landing. A shallow door led from this landing and the assassin did not hesitate in moving to the hallway beyond. She made her way through the maze of corridors without faltering or stumbling when confronted with a choice for her path. Although she had never been in the capital’s palace before the maps supplied by her employers proved to be extremely accurate.
Her employers had been a most peculiar sort. Peculiar for Sefu had not a shred of magical ability to speak of, something almost unheard of in an individual of her world, and was therefore not generally sought out by wizards. In the assassin’s experience men and women of magic were more than capable of carrying out their own assassinations. Not that her skills were to be considered mundane in any way whatsoever.
Having killed her first person in a fit of rage at the tender age of nine she had fled to escape the persecution of her elders. That this person, her victim, had been her eleven year old brother did not concern her. She had been fully aware of her actions and of the consequences of those actions. So she ran but she had not run far enough and soon she was apprehended. After a thorough investigation by the local and higher authorities which included, but was not limited to a council of the most respected psychologists of the time, she was found to have a full and complete grasp of reality. In light of the discoveries made by both the law and the shrinks it was decided that she was to be tried as an adult and sentenced to Centura 7, AnEerth’s most hardened and secure maximum penitentiary.
This is where her instruction in death truly began.
Soon after her internment at the detention facility she found herself with bloodstained hands once more. This time the deceased was a lascivious pervert by the name of Moe. Apparently Moe had thought that he might have a little sport with the pretty newcomer based on two assumptions, 1) her age and 2) she had yet to acquire any protection. To put it bluntly he was dead wrong.
And so at not quite ten years old she found herself a two time murderer with a prolonged stretch in solitary confinement, for her ‘protection’. However it was after three years of solitary that she finally met the man who had shaped her into the nearly flawless killing machine that she now was.
Vin was his name and he was evil incarnate. As he observed the teenage girls reentry into the general population he could not help but admire the stately way she strode through the room. Head held high she met every stare fiercely and without flinching. And when she deftly broke the wrist of a female who had only approached to offer a bit of friendship Vin knew he had found the receptacle in which to deposit his particular brand of knowledge. Seven years later Vin was dead, killed by her hands. Soon after she was free.
And barely a score of years later she found herself working for wizards, what was the world coming to? Not that she minded because wizards generally paid more than fair, twice as much as she normally charged in fact. They were also very discrete, meeting in a very out of the way place.
A young boy of about six had placed the request for an audience with the assassin and then had met with her after she had agreed to do so. They had left the city together and headed toward the outlying forest where upon her arrival she was met by one of the wizards. After blindfolding her the wizard led her into the forest where they walked until the terrain suddenly changed under her feet. The ground became harder. She could tell they were headed steadily down and there were a few times that her guide had to help her grope her way over a short ledge. The air grew damper and then her blindfold was removed.
Sefu could not see but without warning a torch sprang to life in the wizard’s hand. They were in an immense cavern; there was no sign of the boy. The wizard led the assassin another half a mile into the cave before they rounded a sudden bend and encountered firelight. This time the fire was of a natural source.
“Welcome,” came the low greeting from the man at the fire. “Your presence here has been much anticipated.” He was obviously another wizard.
“What would you have of me?” retorted the assassin as she surveyed her surroundings, quickly concluding that there was not much to see.
“Right to the point now, aren’t we my dear?” the wizard chuckled.
“I see no reason to waste time in this gloom and damp,” sneered the assassin.
The other wizard, her guide, stood there and still would not speak a word.
“That is well,” stated the wizard. “For you see we haven’t much time in this matter. Two strangers have come to our land and are even now preparing to meet with our king and queen.”
The assassin’s eyebrows rose minutely at this information but otherwise her face betrayed no emotion. “And what would you have of me?” she repeated.
“We need these strangers removed,” the wizard replied gravely. “This evening.”
This time the assassin was noticeable surprised. This was most irregular.
“Before the fall of night,” continued the wizard. “This is an important detail.”
“This is most irregular,” the assassin sighed quietly. “I would normally require more time to prepare.”
“No!” The wizard gesticulated forcefully. “There is no more time! Can it be done?”
The assassin nodded. “Aye, it can be done but this is most irregular,” she again prompted.
“You will be aptly compensated for the inconvenience.” The wizard removed a leather purse of medium size from his robes and tossed it to the assassin.
She caught it deftly in one hand and hefted it, judging its weight. She smiled, tucked the bag into her clothes and said, “I must leave immediately.”
“Take her,” the wizard said to the other man with a wave of his hand.
The guide gave the older wizard a short bow and turned to comply.
Her journey into the cave, through the woods and from the city was then repeated in reverse. Much hasty preparation later found her traveling stealthily through the palace. She was in pursuit of a vantage point that would allow her to overlook the grand royal gardens which was the final destination of her prey.
The passage Sefu traveled doubled back on itself and the assassin found that after ten or so more paces it terminated into yet another staircase. Having traveled some distance from the divisionary point of the double stairwell she was now some way apart from the royal gardens. This did not balk her in the least bit though. She ascended the new staircase, which spiraled lazily upward and as she did she began to assemble what appeared to be a lightweight rifle of some sort. Pulling the many pieces out of various, nearly invisible concealed pouches, pockets and slings built into her uniform the rifle went together swiftly in her well trained hands. When she had cleared the last step the rifle was fully assembled and the assassin had the perfect point of perspective for the spiral staircase had led her to one of the palace’s many towers.
Walking toward the garden side windows she procured a collapsible pair of binoculars, opened one of the thick glass windows and scanned the gardens for her targets. In no time she discovered the couple as they meandered through the orchard. Easy as it would have been to make the hit then and there, the words of the wizard who had been her guide came back to her.
“Make sure they will be found quickly.” The only words he had spoken the entire journey, just before he departed.
So she watched the pair for a time until they turned and began making their way back to the cobblestone courtyard. The assassin quickly materialized a scope for her rifle and snapped it into place. Setting the tool of death carefully on the window ledge she then trained its sights on the western portal of the courtyard. The assassin divined from the couple’s progress that this would be their point of reentry into the courtyard and she used her binoculars periodically to verify this.
Just before the two in the garden reached the western portal the assassin put her eye back to the scope which brought her view of the doorway into incredible focus and as her luck would have it the two people walked through the portal together hand in hand. Without hesitation the assassin trained her weapon on the man, pulled the trigger, swung the barrel an eighth inch to her right and pulled the trigger again. She was satisfied to see that both of her targets hit the ground.
Ejecting the used clip from her rifle the assassin reloaded and quickly fired another round into the courtyard. The last shot was designed to emit a pulse of magical frequencies that would undoubtedly draw a crowd to the vicinity rather quickly.
Unhurriedly the assassin gathered her belongings and made her way back along the route she had come from. She disassembled the rifle as she went and bypassed the double stairway in favor of a more direct path out of the palace. Once out of the palace she slipped into the maze of city streets and disappeared.

*****

The first person on the scene entered the cobblestone courtyard just as Absinthe was regaining consciousness. She sat up and touched her chest just below her left collarbone. Feeling wetness and pain she pulled her hand away and stared in disbelief at the blood gleaming red on her index and middle fingers. Then she looked to her right and saw Candlelite collapsed on the ground next to her. A low sob escaped from her throat and using her good arm she tried to roll him over. The newcomer reached her side and together they got him to his back.
“Are you alright?” the newcomer asked her, checking Candlelite for a pulse.
“Yes.”
“Good,” he answered. The newcomer was male and dressed in the robes and armor of the palace guard. He touched a device imbedded in his left ear and spoke shortly, “Subjects found. Plasma wounds- one stable, one critical- immediate response to the south courtyard.”
“Ten-four, response is in the vicinity. ETA two minutes, three for medical.”
Satisfied he turned his attention back to Absinthe. “Help will be here in just a minute. What happened? Why weren’t you in your quarters?” There was no attempt at formality in his voice.
Absinthe immediately became indignant. “What do you mean? I didn’t realize we were prisoners. There weren’t any guards and we went for a walk. As for what happened, I don’t know. We came through that door,” she pointed behind her. “And then there were two flashes of light. That’s all I remember.”
The soldier was efficient and did not even ask where the flashes had come from but looked over his shoulder at one of the towers in the distance. Just as the response team entered the courtyard he placed a hand to his ear again.
“I need an immediate sweep of the palace. Concentrate on the east wing. Plasma originated from the Garden Erie. I repeat the plasma originated from the Garden Erie.”
As the response team began securing the area the medical team arrived and loaded Candlelite onto a stretcher.
“Good thing this was plasma shot,” the lead medical examiner said as he probed Candlelite and then Absinthes wounds. “Or else he would probably be dead.” The heat of the plasma had almost completely cauterized the wounds and there was only a minimum of blood loss. “Can you walk?” he asked Absinthe.
“Yes,” she answered and got wobbly to her feet.
“Good,” the medical examiner replied and put an arm around her for support. “Let’s get you two to the hospital before dark.”
Two of the soldiers came as an escort; one of them was the first who had arrived. As she hobbled across the courtyard Absinthe turned and looked at the sun. It was almost set.

“Don't worry,” King Zakeriah was saying. “We’ve got the magic and the technology to imitate the harashna stasis field. In fact it has already been done.” He was sitting in the plush high backed chair that was a centerpiece in Candlelite and Absinthe’s chambers. Candlelite sat, fully recovered, alongside Absinthe on a short loveseat across a coffee table from the king. The queen was not present. She had been in after their release from the hospital but had not stayed long.
“We appreciate everything that you’ve done for us your majesty,” Candlelite said a bit wearily.
“Of course,” Zakeriah smiled kindly. “Your presence here is very important to us. We could not have anticipated such quick action from our enemies or we would have acted sooner to better secure the welfare of you both. As it is you’re very lucky to be alive. Reports of a black cloaked woman spotted leaving the palace have my intelligence people believing that the attempt on your live was perpetrated by Sefu Atarle, purported to be AnEerth’s deadliest assassin. If it had not been for chance, as well as your innate gift of healing, it is likely that the combined efforts of our magic and our science would not have saved you. As it is you were easily made whole again.”
“And we are eternally grateful for that your majesty,” Absinthe returned diplomatically. “But what’s going to happen now?”
The king stroked his thin goatee absentmindedly for a moment before replying. “I have initiated every option for your safety. You’ll have to stay here,” he gestured toward the room around them. “While we make every effort to capture or eliminate Sefu Atarle you will be put on twenty-four hour surveillance and under constant guard but, Atarle did not become renowned as our world’s top assassin by being easy to catch. So, all of your food and drink will be tested both magically and mechanically for poisons before it is made available to you. I have also taken the liberty to have my magicians place spells of secrecy and defense around these rooms. None who have not been authorized will be able to breach nor even gain knowledge of your location. Also, while I may not disengage my presence from the festivities that have been planned for this evening, I have arraigned that the two of you shall not have to attend. Food and beverage shall be sent to you.” He smiled and sat back in his chair obviously very pleased no aspect had been left uncovered.
Absinthe however was not satisfied in the least. Candlelite had felt her body tense all through the king’s speech until she fairly exploded at the end. “So what you’re saying is we’re prisoners here?!”
Taken aback by the young woman's vehemence Zakeriah sputtered, “No, my lady. Of course not! All of this is for your protection.”
Candlelite quickly took Absinthe's hand in his and squeezed it tightly. “Thank you your majesty, we do appreciate everything. It’s been a long day. We’re tired, we’re hungry and quite frankly just a little bit overwhelmed.” He felt Absinthe get ready to say something else and squeezed her hand tighter.
“Of course,” Zakeriah said, noting the young lady’s restraint. “I will take my leave now. Food will be sent momentarily.” And then without further comment he left the room.

*****

Jeshux, McAriicoys and Max sat around the same table in the dining hall that they had occupied over six nights earlier. Each man had a steaming cup of black coffee in front of him. Jeshux’ and McAriicoys’ were in plain mugs from the kitchen while Max had his favorite personal mug with a pint of whiskey sitting next to it.
“A little hair of the dog?” Max asked picking up the bottle and waving it in the other men’s direction.
McAriicoys, a devout purist of the body as far as mind-altering intoxicants were concerned, gave a polite but firm shake of his head but Jeshux was feeling the strain of the past week and gratefully reached across the table to take the proffered alcohol.
Dumping a generous portion of hundred proof into his cup he announced, “Well we’re just about moved in.”
Max’s head bobbed up and down in assent. Taking the bottle back from Jeshux he dumped a helping twice as generous into his own mug took a healthy drink and then poured some more whiskey in before replying, “That’s good.” Whether he was speaking about the coffee or the move Jeshux and McAriicoys were unsure but before either man could speak Max continued.
“Been crazy having all this commotion going on, after being alone for so long all of the hubbub is a bit much. I expect things will calm down some now?” His last sentence was less a question than a subtle demand.
“Yes,” McAriicoys said. “The last of our equipment should be in late tonight, while tomorrow will be spent in a last minute organization effort and by early tomorrow night things will be settled tremendously.”
“Good,” Max grumbled and took another swallow from his mug.
Jeshux sipped his own cup and then stated, “I won’t be here for all of that.” McAriicoys raised his eyebrows slightly and Jeshux continued. “I’ve just decided that all of these operations can be taken care of without me. Tomorrow I’m going to take a small team through the Harashna. Once back on AnEerth we’ll proceed directly to the palace in Dirsellia and make our report to King Zakeriah.”
McAriicoys began to stand. “I’ll begin preparations at once!”
“No, no. Sit down,” Jeshux waved the man back to his seat. “I require you to remain here, old friend. I need someone whom I can trust to oversee the remainder of our operations here.”
“Yes, very good because I am going to come with you,” Max interjected from left field.
“What!” Jeshux sputtered and choked on his coffee. “No way! Out of the question!”
“And why is that?” Max asked calmly.
“Because I need you to remain here to operate all of your equipment and monitor the Harashna.”
“Baugh, nonsense,” Max waved a hand dismissively. “The man you supplied me with was more than quick in picking up the basics and just as apt in learning what’s needed to maintain an acceptable watch over the wormhole. I hereby certify him in Quantum Technologies!” The old man waved his mug in salute, inscribing a cross in the air.
“In less than a week!” Jeshux was incredulous.
“It’s really not that difficult.” Max yawned.
“And what of your own state of quantum being?” McAriicoys asked. He referred to the scientist’s past sixty years of exposure to the stasis effect generated by the wormhole’s existence. “Are you not worried about shriveling up more than you have already?”
“Ha, ha,” Max laughed dryly. “No actually, I’m not.”
“Why is that?” Jeshux leaned forward, curious.
“Because I’m immortal,” the wizened old man replied casually.
“What!” This time it was McAriicoys turn to sputter in his coffee.
“And how, pray tell, did you manage that?” Jeshux asked, a faint smile forming on his lips.
“Quite simple really. All I did was ask your man, the one that I was training, for a sample of his blood, for analysis of course. I was curious, having never encountered an immortal before and he was more than happy to comply with such an innocent request.” Max took a sip and realized his coffee was almost gone. Picking up his bottle of whiskey for a refill he continued. “Why, he was even willing to give me a detailed history of immortality on your world. This included, of course, the several methods by which an individual may obtain immortality. But even more curious, once I got the blood sample back to the lab I found your man, coincidentally, to be of the same blood type as me. And, well,” he spread his hands in a ‘what can you do’ gesture. “After that it just seemed like the natural thing to do.” Max took a long gulp from his mug.
“So you injected yourself with the sample,” Jeshux grimaced.
McAriicoys was shaking his head in disbelief, “You scandalous old rascal.”
Max just grinned and took another drink. “I’m not getting younger,” he stated. “Not that I’m getting any older either but you can’t expect me to want to hang around here for the rest of eternity, or however long, I've already been sitting around cooped up for over sixty years. I figure with you guys here and that youngster capable of handling my part, maybe I can get out of here for a while.”
“That youngster,” Jeshux corrected as he stood up to retire. “Is quite a few centuries older than you, old man. I can appreciate your tenacity though. We’re leaving at first light. Be ready!”

The next day dawned bright and clear. Jeshux stood in front of the Technicolor swirl that was the wormhole. Beside him were Max and McAriicoys. A picked team of a dozen of Jeshux best men were busy making last minute checks of their gear.
“You know what to do,” Jeshux was saying to McAriicoys. “After last night I want no avenue of approach left unguarded.”
“Of course, you can count on me,” McAriicoys said and gravely shook Jeshux hand.
And Jeshux knew that he could. After what had happened the previous night McAriicoys would take the security of their new base camp as a matter of honor.
It had only been a short while, two or three hours after Jeshux had finally gotten to sleep that he had been suddenly woken by the cacophony of sirens and claxon bells that accompanied anything’s passage through the wormhole. Within a minute he was out of bed, dressed, and storming into the hallway. Immediately he stumbled into one of his men running from the opposite direction.
“Sir, I was just coming to get you,” the winded man wheezed.
“What’s going on here? Who’s gone through the Harashna?” Jeshux demanded.
“I don’t know, sir! It’s just happened. Mr. Kimbal is already at the monitoring station. He spotted me and told me to send for you at once.”
For Death’s sake! Jeshux thought. As if I could’ve slept through that awful noise or not known what it meant and not gone to the monitoring station.
“Very good,” he yelled over the din of the alarms. “Come with me!” And then he set off down the hall at a fast trot, not waiting to see if the soldier followed.
Just as Jeshux reached the door of the monitoring station the noise stopped as suddenly as it had started. He threw the door open and stepped inside to be met by a glance from McAriicoys before he turned his attention back to the video monitors.
“What happened?” Jeshux growled.
“We’re uncertain sir,” McAriicoys responded. “Max is accessing playback from the digital systems now. We think it may have been a pack of goblins though.”
Goblins! Jeshux felt a shiver run down his spine and he gritted his teeth. Disgusting vermin. “How is that possible?” he demanded.
“Hold your horses!” Max snapped. “It should be coming on screen in just a moment.”
Then, as the three men watched, the monitors suddenly came to life showing half a dozen different approaches to the wormhole. After a few seconds of nothing three of the monitors began to show an iridescent shimmer. Suddenly, with a quick wink of silver, a pack of twenty foul and twisted creatures appeared in front of the wonderland portal between worlds.
“Damn,” Jeshux breathed. “Can we get audio?”
Max twisted a few dials and clack-clacked on the keyboard in front of him.
“Nope,” he said. “Something’s blocking the signal.”
“They must have a jammer,” McAriicoys observed.
As the creatures drew closer to the wormhole the better lighting revealed that they were indeed goblins but not all of them, only thirteen of them. There were also five werewolves of the common variety and surprisingly there were also two men. The men seemed to be leading the pack as they signaled the goblins and werewolves through before going through themselves. The last man, just before stepping into the vortex, turned directly towards one of the cameras, made an obscene hand gesture at it and then took the plunge.
“Why that son of a… !” exclaimed an outraged Max.
“They had invisibility cloaks,” Jeshux groaned. “No wonder my men didn’t see them.”
“Don’t let it worry you,” McAriicoys put his hand on his friends shoulder. “There’s no way we could have anticipated this infiltration.”
“You’re right, of course,” Jeshux conceded. “Still, I want a full perimeter lockdown, infrared, ultraviolet, subsonic, the works- nothing in, nothing out. At least until I’m back or you hear otherwise! Any message I send you will be standard double encryption. Anything less or more and you stay put. You hear?”
McAriicoys shot to attention. “Yes sir!”
“Good. Now get to it!”
With a sharp salute McAriicoys turned and strode from the room. Max was replaying the short video again. Jeshux stood silently and watched it with him. “No more sleep tonight,” the little man sighed.
“Nope, you better get your stuff together scientist. The sooner we leave the better.” Jeshux turned to leave. “And don’t forget to put your replacement on watch!”
Jeshux let the door slam shut behind him. The soldier that had followed him was still in the hall. “Go and inform the crossover team to get ready, double time!” Jeshux ordered him.
As the other man ran off to fulfill his orders Jeshux stared after him. Damn! Not even settled into their new camp yet and the enemy had already managed to infiltrate. He must be getting sloppy in his old age. No, McAriicoys had been right, there was not any way they could have foreseen this turn of events. Still though, it rankled. What did this sudden penetration of the Harashna by Harmony’s forces mean? Was it coincidence or was it an indication that the other side had knowledge of Candlelite. There was just too much that he did not know to be making all this pointless conjecture. With a shake of his head he had turned towards his own accommodations to prepare for the journey home.
And now, barely four hours later, he was again speaking with McAriicoys. “One more thing old friend, I think it’s time to gain some intelligence on Harmony and his doings. I’ll leave all of the details to you but I want a team assembled and deployed by the end of the day. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone but I hope to have a full report by the time I get back. Understood?”
“Again sir,” McAriicoys saluted his friend. “You can count on me.”
“I know I can.” Jeshux turned to his waiting men. “Alright men four rows of three, a row at a time. Let’s move out!” As the men formed rank and went through the wormhole Jeshux grabbed Max. “Okay scientist, if you’re ready we’ll go through together.”
Max seemed a bit uneasy but he smiled. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do it.”
Just behind the fourth string, Jeshux and the old man stepped through the vortex.

*****

The names of the men who approached the huge gates of Dirsellia were Dan and Dave. They had been normal boys, born during the time of ‘The Great Oppression’ as the commoners called the reign of Harmony. By the time they were sixteen and seventeen years old their poverty stricken parents sold them into bondage. They were purchased by one of the many goblin slave establishments that had been developed at the Lord Harmony’s request. Their parents had loved their children, of that there was little doubt but under the strain of such hard times they had had little choice but to sacrifice the ones they loved most. And both Dan and Dave harbored their parents no ill will. They were well aware of the conditions under which their society survived and although they were scared and not entirely willing, they had gone to their fate without much struggle.
Since that moment the years passed with the infinite slowness and putridity of a slug. The boys had turned to men and after toiling strenuously without rest they had both hardened and turned cold. This was an inevitable effect of closely living and dealing with goblins on a regular basis. It was also an effect Harmony wished to cultivate and exploit in his human minions. Dan and Dave were no exception. So, after a point, their fall from grace had reached a significant level where because of their ability to endure and stay together no matter what, no one could handle them. It was at this point they were sent to Harmony.
This was exactly what the mad warlock wanted and as soon as he laid eyes on the dirty and bedraggled pair he knew they were perfect, although perfect for what he was uncertain. But that was of no consequence and their blazing defiance in the face of Harmony’s spectacular magnificence proved to be paltry indeed when the force of his magic was unleashed. It was a minor matter to subvert Dan and Dave to his will.
The two men were put to work as cadets in the army and as it was it did not take long for Harmony’s assessment of their perfection to manifest. Dan and Dave proved to be especially adept in the arts of subversion, deception, infiltration and secrecy, the perfect components with which a spy was made and it was not long before the perfect mission for these perfect spies also manifested.
Now standing before the gates of the capital city Dan and Dave grinned at each other and then strode purposely through.

*****

Finding themselves sprawled on top of one of the tallest edifices in human creation Jeshux and Max stood up and found the rest of the crossover team again systematically checking their gear.
“Good, we all made it,” Jeshux said.
“As if there was any doubt,” Max said crossly. He was feeling decidedly ill from the journey through the wormhole and it felt as if his legs could give out at any moment.
Jeshux looked at Max, shook his head, unslung his pack from his shoulders and dug out a small black cylinder with two bloodstones embedded in each end. He pressed a button on the side of the cylinder and muttered a few incomprehensible words at it. Instantly the bloodstones began to pulsate.
“It’s a combination of science and sorcery,” Jeshux said upon noticing the interest in the ailing scientist’s eyes. “A homing beacon that will alert the king to our arrival.”
“Ah,” Max said.
“Men,” Jeshux turned to his waiting comrades. “You know what’s coming next. We might as well not delay.” And without waiting he reslung his pack and started down a staircase set into the floor.
Max had no idea what was waiting for him but by time the team emerged at the bottom of the tower he was exhausted from the exertion. As soon as they hit sand he heaved off his backpack and sank to the ground gasping to catch his breath. Jeshux came over to offer the scientist a bottle of water. He was breathing fine and apparently had not felt the exertion.
“Jesus,” Max breathed. “I never knew it could be so hard going down stairs!”
Jeshux grinned, “Just imagine how it is going up.”
“No, thank you,” Max managed as he got to his feet.
Suddenly the air shimmered and there was a small pop. Both men turned toward the sound and a woman was standing before them.
“Ah, Witch Farewethor,” Jeshux bowed in greeting.
Farewethor returned his bow. “Greetings Commander General.”
Jeshux turned toward Max. “May I introduce Max Kimbal? He’s a scientist from Earth, the world on the other side of the Harashna and one of the men responsible for its creation there.”
Farewethor bowed to Max but the little man took her hand and pressed his lips softly to her knuckles. “Enchanté mademoiselle.” Surprised at the foreign greeting the witch blushed though she could not understand the words.
Concealing a smile Jeshux continued, “You’re acquainted with the rest of my men of course.”
“Of course, gentlemen,” Farewethor regained her composure and bowed to the crossover team. The men bowed in return and then to Jeshux she said, “The king is greatly anticipating your report and bid me bring you in all haste.”
“Excellent! We’re ready when you are,” and then to Max. “Brace yourself. This may be a bit, unpleasant.”
Suddenly Max found himself being pulled apart, seemingly with a piece of him in one place and a piece in another. With a quick wrench the two pieces came colliding back together and Max was left to maintain his balance on his own while the rest of the team, Jeshux included, struggled to contain their laughter.
With almost motherly concern Farewethor came over and put her arms around him. “There, there. It’ll pass. Just breathe deep and keep your eyes closed for a minute.”
Max did as he was told and soon he was able to stand on his own. When he opened his eyes he found that the world had stopped spinning and instead of sand he was standing on flagstones inside a courtyard in what seemed to be a huge castle.
Quickly recovered the scientist muttered, “What a rush.” As bad as it had been instantaneous matter transportation was not the same as quantum tunneling.
Jeshux came over and clapped him on the back. “Unpleasant?”
“To say the least,” Max grumbled.
“Sir,” Farewethor stepped forward as she addressed Jeshux. “The king waits.”
“Yes, yes. By all means,” Jeshux replied before yelling to his men, “Everyone, to the barracks! I'll meet you there in no less than four hours. Kimbal, you’re coming with me.”
The company of men that made up the crossover team grinned at each other and exited through a low door in the south wall while Jeshux and Max followed Farewethor through an open portal in the east wall. Once through the portal the witch led the two men through a twisting maze of doors and corridors, past great hanging tapestries depicting scenes from AnEerth’s history, statues of men and women in various poses and stages of undress, also werewolves and vampires, until finally they came up short in front of a small ironwood door inlaid with fine strands of gold and silver.
“Through this door is the private chamber of the great King Zakeriah, overlord of the entire planet of AnEerth,” Farewethor was speaking to both men but it was obvious to Max this presentation was entirely for his benefit. He listened carefully as Farewethor continued, “He is the single most powerful man in the world. Not because of magic, he wields but little, and not because of technology, although he is as capable as the most brilliant scientist, but because he is both wise and tough. He has gained the respect of the entire kingdom through his ability to cut to the heart of any matter and make quick, fair and oft times difficult decisions concerning such. He is very kind but do not mistake that kindness for weakness.” Then the witch stepped to the door and knocked out a rhythmic beat on its surface.
“Enter!” The voice was loud and clear in Max’s ear and seemed not to come from the other side of the door but from the very air around them.
Farewethor pushed the door lightly and it swung open easily without noise. She then stepped clear so that Max and Jeshux might enter, shutting the door once the two men were through.
A stone walled room it was, round in nature with a round coffee table in the center surrounded by several chairs. Tapestries and other wall hangings decorated the enclosure with multicolored splendor and in front of them, opposite the entrance was an opening with an ornate curtain as its door. From this a man stepped through. He was of average height with a baldhead, piercing blue eyes, gaunt in appearance and a thin goatee of about three inches sprouted from his chin.
“Your Majesty,” Jeshux performed a deep bow. Max, uncertain, just stood there. This man certainly did not look like a king. In fact he looked as if you could throw a pair of overalls on him and he would blend in fine with any commoner.
“Now, now, none of that,” the man said striding purposely across the room and enveloping Jeshux in a deep hug. “It’s good to see you again my friend. What’s it been, fifty-five, sixty-five years?”
“Ummf!” Jeshux said and returned the man’s embrace. “Too long, Zakeriah, too long.”
“And how goes it Earth side?” Zakeriah asked. “How is young McAriicoys? I understand that he did not accompany you.”
“No sir, he did not,” Jeshux turned to indicate Max. “Might I introduce to you Max Kimbal? He’s one of the scientists that made the opening of the Earth side harashna possible.”
“Sir,” Max said trying to imitate Jeshux bow.
“A pleasure,” the king said. “But I believe that on your planet they do it in this fashion.” Zakeriah stuck out a hand, which Max readily shook.
Jeshux raised an eyebrow at this. “It seems that you’ve become somewhat informed about Earth your majesty.”
“Indeed,” the king frowned and gestured for the two men to sit. “Before we get to business though, may I introduce either of you two men to a drink?”
“Wine, please,” Jeshux answered. “And I believe that Mr. Kimbal would like some of that fine whiskey you’re fond of collecting.”
“Yes,” Zakeriah said. “But never for drinking. Is merlot alright?”
“Of course.”
The king returned with a tumbler of amber fire and a goblet of deep red. He handed these to his guests and then took a seat with a goblet of his own. “There, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, business may be attended.” The king sipped his wine obviously savoring the taste. “Now to answer your question, yes I have become familiar with our neighboring dimension. You see I have managed to pick up a stray. One of yours it would seem, if the tale has been told with accuracy.”
“Candlelite!” Jeshux eyes gleamed as he spoke.
“He’s here?” Max sat forward in his chair.
“Where is he? I must speak with him.” Jeshux was visibly chomping at the proverbial bit.
“Yeah, me also,” Max added.
“Patience, patience gentlemen,” King Zakeriah intoned with one hand raised. “First we must discuss business. Much has gone on in your absence Commander General.” All informality had vanished from the king’s voice. “And I’ve many questions concerning this ‘Earth’ of Mr. Kimbal’s. The young werewolf and his companion have been able to provide little of the information that I would deem pertinent.”
“Companion?” Max queried.
Jeshux, better able to conceal his own surprise, asked, “You’re not referring to the bear, your majesty?”
“A young woman,” the king swirled the remains of his wine around the crystal goblet.
“Ah,” Jeshux relaxed. “Of course, it’s just that he made a most daring escape on the back of a wild grizzly.”
Zakeriah smiled mischievously. “Not so wild, I would think, although she is very high spirited.”
Jeshux and Max both looked at each other, confused anew by the king’s words.
Seeing this Zakeriah smiled again. “You see this bear and the young woman are one and the same. And your man Candlelite it seems was put on the spot to supply this bear turned woman with a name upon their timely arrival here.” At this the king fixed Jeshux with his intense stare. “The name he chose was Absinthe.”
Looking back at the king Jeshux jaw dropped as the implications were made perfectly apparent. “You don’t mean to suggest…” He let his question trail off unfinished.
“I suggest nothing. The facts speak for themselves.”
“Then what you’re saying is that the time of the prophecy is upon us your majesty?”
“Precisely.”
Jeshux pressed his fingertips together and bowed his head. “Oh my God,” he breathed. “The Werewolf Candlelite, of course, why didn’t I see it before?”
Max meanwhile just looked from man to man somewhat bewildered. Instead of professing his ignorance, which no doubt both men were aware of, he inclined his empty tumbler toward Zakeriah and asked, “Mind if I partake in some more of your finery, Kingy?”
Jeshux was still in thought and had not noticed the manner in which Max addressed Zakeriah but the king could not fail to notice. His eyes grew wider by a fraction of an inch and then a bemused smile began to play at the corners of his mouth. Reaching for the scientist’s glass he replied graciously, “But of course.”
“Much obliged.” The wizened old man smiled benignly.
After a few moments of silence, in which Max received his drink, Jeshux looked up and said, “They’ve been informed of the prophecy.” It was a statement not a question.
“Yes. After their arrival the witch Farewethor, who first suspected their identities, approached them. She then came back to the palace to inform me and I sent Nefarious to bring them here straight away. Upon their deliverance the queen and I greeted them in open court. After a series of questions and some discreet magical prodding the conclusion was reached that they are indeed the saviors of which the prophecy speaks.”
Max, who had followed a little of what Zakeriah had said, suddenly interrupted. “And where are they now, sir?”
“Ah. They are currently under guard. It was necessary to place the two of them under protective custody.”
“Protective custody!” Jeshux exclaimed. “Why? What happened?”
The king looked thoughtful for a moment and then explained. “It seems the opposition is more aware than we had previously suspected. There was an assassination attempt the evening of their arrival.”
“What!” Max began to choke on his whiskey.
Jeshux looked at the king. “Sefu Atarle?”
“Yes. It’s probably safe to assume that Harmony supporters have the Harashna under surveillance. After all Harmony himself was the one who opened it.”
“So Candlelite’s safe,” Jeshux mused to himself. And then to the king, “We have secured the Harashna Earth side. This effort, unfortunately, was conducted only last week. Early this morning, while we were still in transition, a group comprised of thirteen goblins, five werewolves, and two men infiltrated our camp. This group did not attack but snuck through our lines and made use of the Harashna. All of this took place approximately four hours prior to our own departure. I had to wonder at the presence of men among this group. Now it seems to make sense to assume that these men were included to act as spies.”
“You mean that they could be here, in the city?” Zakeriah looked concerned.
“Yes, your majesty. I’d say it’s safe to assume that.” Jeshux looked grim. “I want your permission to remove Absinthe and Candlelite from the city at once.”
“Out of the question!” Zakeriah suddenly grew tense. “We cannot allow such vital individuals out of our care. There’s too much at stake. Besides, I have implemented adequate security measures. There isn’t a chance in hell that Harmony or anyone else could break through them.”
Jeshux shook his head. “Do you trust me Zak?”
The familiarity of this nickname seemed to penetrate the king’s defenses momentarily. He slumped in his chair and took a swallow of wine. Then he looked up with a weary smile. “Of course, my friend, I’ve always trusted your abilities. Above and beyond that you are one of my closest friends and I have faith in you.” And then he hesitated before proceeding, “But you must understand, this goes far beyond just you and me. It has even gone further than AnEerth to include, not just another planet but possibly a whole other universe. We have in our possession the means to our salvation. We cannot risk losing that salvation, not for anything. We have here the means of keeping this salvation safe. I see no reason to chance a move.”
Max looked from the king to Jeshux but did not speak. Jeshux looked at the king for a few long seconds and then cleared his throat.
With the most formality and respect he could muster Jeshux said, “Your majesty, King Zakeriah the Wise, sire, you must now listen closely to what I tell you. You know Harmony’s strength and you know his power. You knew that if he had banded together with the other renegade mages of AnEerth that he would have become a force unstoppable. This was why you came to my mercenaries and me. This alone is why I agreed to risk the lives of my men. This is why I agreed to pursue this vile creature. And even after he had been driven from the land and we were no longer under contract to pursue him, this is why we followed him through the Harashna. I acknowledged my responsibility to keep not just AnEerth but any world safe from his evil, as you have just done.”
Jeshux lowered his voice gravely. “Let me tell you though that in this I have failed! Earth has, in its entirety, fallen under the tyranny of the warlock Harmony’s rule He has conquered and made the entire planet over in his image, just as he would have done here. And still he is not satisfied. I have gathered reason to believe that through his domination of Earth the Dark Lord has not doubled his power, has not tripled his power, has not even quadrupled his power but has in fact increased his power tenfold! And we both know that he lusts for AnEerth in a manner no sane man may comprehend.”
Suddenly Jeshux fervor subsided and it was his turn to slump in his chair. His voice softened and became such as he seemed almost to plead. “Your majesty, even now I sense that Harmony is ready to deploy his army. Do you still claim, in light of what I just told you, that you are capable of defense against anything that he may attempt? Do you still think that you are capable of assuring the Chosen Ones safety? I do not believe it is so and even now I await affirmation of Harmony’s intentions but my scouts may not return before it is too late, if they return at all.” And with this statement Jeshux went silent.
King Zakeriah was silent for some time before he rose from his seat and refilled his and his guest’s glasses. He then began to pace for some time before refilling his own glass once more and returning to his seat.
“I’m sorry Jeshux,” Zakeriah said. “But without confirmation of what you say I cannot in good conscious grant your request. As a person, an individual and your friend, I trust your word as gold. But as a monarch, as the embodiment of a people, a state, for Death’s sake an entire planet, I cannot base a decision on that trust alone.”
Jeshux expression went hard and he fought a moment for possession of his voice. “I understand. Might I request an audience, for Mr. Kimbal and myself, with the captives?”
“They are not captives!” the king stiffened indignantly.
“Have they been allowed a choice in this matter?” Jeshux watched as Zakeriah said nothing. “As I thought. What say you, your majesty?”
“Yes. I’ll grant you leave to speak with our guests. You may do so at once. I’ll send for an escort.” With a dismissive gesture the king ended the conference.
Max swallowed the rest of his whiskey as he stood up. Jeshux was doing the same but Max noticed he left his last goblet of wine untouched. Within moments the two men found themselves waiting in the hallway outside of the silver and gold gilt door.
“Well,” Max ventured cautiously. “That seemed like it could have gone better.”
“Indeed,” Jeshux replied solemnly.
“What do we do now?” Max asked.
“We wait.”
“For the escort?”
“Yes.”

*****

For many days activity at the Empire State Building had been at a peak of frenzy. Troops and other various military personnel were busy bringing the mad sorcerer’s army to combat readiness. Earlier in the week Harmony had given the go ahead to move forward with the beginning stages of his military operation against AnEerth.
Little did McAriicoys or any of the mercenaries in Jeshux camp know but the morning Harmony’s forces infiltrated the Complex not all of the infiltration team crossed through the Harashna. Two goblins had been instructed to remain behind and, under the protection of magic giving them invisibility and stealth, they had done so.
Sneaking about the two goblins acquired bits and snatches of information gleaned by listening to the conversation and gossip of the soldiers. In this way they were able to learn about the prolonged chase and failed attempts to capture the werewolf Candlelite. They were especially interested to hear about the most recent attempt where the werewolf had seemingly been in complete custody when out of nowhere a large animal, reportedly a bear of some kind, had charged in and scattered the Commander General’s troops. The goblins were surprised to learn that as the following confusion ensued the werewolf had leapt astride the great bears back and rode it through the Harashna. What came as an even bigger and more interesting surprise to the goblin observers was the detail that even though this Candlelite was purportedly a werewolf, he was described at the time of all of this as being in the form of a man. The two goblins did not pretend to understand these tales as everyone knows a werewolf is a werewolf and cannot be confused as being anything but a werewolf. They then fell to listening in on the meeting in front of the Harashna. Here they heard the Commander General lay out his plans for returning to AnEerth and his expectation that a force be sent to the lord Harmony’s demesne for reconnaissance. Although this news was a little disturbing both of these bent creatures knew that the lord Harmony had little to fear from these pathetic soldiers. After the departure through the Harashna of the Commander General and his men the spies took to following around the one called McAriicoys. It was through these observations that they were able to learn about the new preparations for the perimeter defenses. Now this knowledge was very disturbing indeed and in order to avoid what would most certainly be definite capture the goblins learned everything they could about the new defenses and then hightailed it away from the Complex before they could be implemented.
Upon their arrival in the broken ruins of New York City they were well received by their brothers and brought forth immediately before the Dark Lord. After their reiteration of all they had learned they knelt groveling in supplication until Harmony sent them away.
The vile sorcerer was immensely pleased with the thorough efficiency in which his servants had gathered this information. One thing bothered him though, the story of the so-called Candlelite who was both a werewolf and a man. Harmony, unlike his minions, was well versed in the tale the prophecy told. The confirmed report of this Candlelite’s miraculous escape through the Harashna upon the back of a bear was most disturbing and the implications were not lost on him.
But no matter for with Commander General Jeshux out of the picture and back on AnEerth he chose to again shelve the matter of the werewolf and his bear. This was an opportune time to deploy his army and take for his own the facility of the Harashna. Once this was done he could use his magic to augment the Harashna, transforming it to gargantuan proportions and thus allowing his forces more convenient access to AnEerth.
Less than a few weeks after the return of his goblin spies, as he was overseeing the preparation of a great new weapon of technological achievement, Harmony was brought news that four mercenary soldiers had been spotted roaming the ravaged streets of his desolate city. He gave the order that these men should be captured post haste and then returned to the task at hand.
The mighty warlock had spent many years supervising the research, design, and construction of this new weapon and was greatly anticipating its completion. Within just a few short days the first prototype would be assembled and ready for its preliminary battery of tests.
Both long-range projectile device and wide circumference devastation machine, this new weapon was in essence a gun and a bomb rolled into one. It was designed to be powered by the unique signature of Harmony’s magic and would be able to lock on and fire upon targets well over five hundred miles away, utilizing an accuracy of within centimeters. It would also be able to have its main storage cylinder disengaged from the gun body. This battery of arcane energy was only about the size of a large beach ball and weighed in at about ninety-two pounds. With separation implemented the storage cylinder could then be armed and would produce an estimated detonation roughly equivalent to fifty fifty-megaton nuclear devices. Perhaps a little overkill to some but to Harmony the word was meaningless.
Thinking about the upcoming death and destruction brought an instant smile of gratification to the warlock’s thin, bloodless lips and the inarticulate howl that was his laughter would have froze the blood in any man’s veins, if there had been any men around.

*****

After Jeshux departure McAriicoys kept busy by seeing to the construction of the new perimeter defenses. The ones that had been put in place by the scientist Kimbal were serviceable but hardly competent when dealing with forces outside of the physical. However they were kept in place as adequate protection against the intrusion of any ordinary visitors and they would make for an excellent start as the groundwork for the new, wider spectrum of sensory detection that Jeshux had specified.
McAriicoys first stop after he left the wormhole was the quarters in which the security teams were stationed. He was looking for one person in particular and she was a woman by the name of Pentooli Adamschild.
Jeshux mercenary force did not have many women in it for two reasons, 1- there just were not many woman who were immortal, and 2- the ones who were of enlistment age did not necessarily wish to spend their lives in combat. Despite these factors there were a few and of the ones under Jeshux command Pentooli- or Pen, as she was known- was one of the best. She had a knack for electronics, talent with magic and she tended to concentrate on employing her skills inventing new and improved forms of security devices, both passive/aggressive and personal/impersonal. This made her a very valuable asset in Jeshux modest little army and also the most qualified person to upgrade the Complex’s defense system.
When McAriicoys made it to the security barracks he was informed that Pen had gone to the mess hall for breakfast. He changed directions and made his way to the main dining hall where he had had coffee with Jeshux and Max the night before. As he made his way to the mess hall the hairs on the back of his head kept standing on end and he had the sensation of being watched or of being followed. Every time this would happen he would turn around to see who was there and the halls would be empty. McAriicoys even went so far as to duck into an empty supply closet in an attempt to catch his pursuers off guard but to no avail, the halls remained clear. Infuriated with himself for his paranoia he stepped from the closet. It was not very often that his well-honed warrior’s instinct led him so completely astray. He shook his head and continued on to the dining hall where he came upon the esteemed personage of Pentooli Adamschild.
There was no mistaking who McAriicoys had come to see. He went straight to her table. Seeing him coming Pentooli stood up and snapped her superior a sharp salute which McAriicoys returned.
“At ease, Pen,” McAriicoys barked as he sat down across from her.
He took a moment to formulate his thoughts and did an automatic assessment of the woman in front of him. Being five feet, eleven inches tall Pen was not exactly short. Stunning bright green eyes peered at him curiously from under light sandy brown hair. A perfect figure was hidden under the bagginess of her uniform which made her appear somewhat dumpy. McAriicoys knew better though as this woman could glide, when she walked it was with the lithe grace of a jungle wildcat. Every man stopped to watch although it was rumored that none touched. Pentooli had a reputation for displaying the ferocity of a feline predator if approached in any manner other than the professional.
“What’s on your mind Mac?” she asked, all business as usual.
McAriicoys allowed himself a tight smile before speaking. “I’ve got a job for you Pen.”
For some reason this ice queen had the power to melt the ice of his own personality and McAriicoys found himself not being as formal around her as he was in any other situation. “I’m sure you heard about the infiltration of the goblins early this morning.”
“Of course,” Pentooli grimaced. “How could I not have? Those damned alarms woke the entire complex.”
“Well, I need you to help me ensure nothing like that happens again,” McAriicoys continued slightly amused at her displeasure.
“Alright Mac, what do you have in mind?”
“Are you familiar with the existing array of sensors?” he asked.
“Are you kidding?” she scoffed. “Those aren’t sensors! I went over them and they’re the most archaic, amateur bit of cobbled electronics I’ve ever seen.”
“Good,” McAriicoys allowed himself a smile. “Then you are familiar with them.”
“Yeah,” Pentooli shoved a fork load of slop into her mouth and spoke around it. “I'm familiar with them.”
“Ok. What I think is that we can use them to lay the groundwork for something a little more sophisticated.”
“I’m following. What do you need?”
“Well, the goblins came in using either tech or spell to induce a state of full cloak, both visual and audio. We’ve got to make sure that we’ve detection against this. We don’t want a repeat of last night. The boss was pissed and made it clear it wasn’t to happen again.”
“Alright,” Pentooli agreed. “It’s doable. And I think using the pre-existing system will work out fine. Full spectrum enforcement, I imagine?” At McAriicoys nod she went on, “What’s the deadline?”
“What can you have done tonight,” McAriicoys asked.
Pentooli popped another bit of food into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I can have a basic perimeter set up with a start on the rest but that’s it. I’m going to have to spend most of the day getting the equipment together and training some techs to install it. I’ve some spells that I’ll have to take care of personally, also. That’ll take time. By tomorrow things will be rolling smoothly though and you can figure on a completion by,” she ticked off a few fingers on one hand. “Let’s say Tuesday.”
Pleased McAriicoys nodded his head. “Excellent. Then I’ll leave you to your breakfast so that you can get to it. I’ve a few things that require my attention or I’d join you.”
He got up and started to walk away, then turned around and said, “Thank you Pentooli.”
“Any time Mac.”
Certainly there was a glow that he felt around that woman but it was already fading as McAriicoys reached the door and stepped into the hallway. Oh well, he had other things to worry about than women, even beautiful, dangerous ones. Now was time to get a team together to send on the New York mission. McAriicoys already had the team chosen. All that remained was to get them together, brief them, and send them on their way. To do this he needed the intercom so he made his way to the main control room, or ‘Whiskey Control’ as the men were coming to call it. The place definitely had an aroma of booze about it, acquired no doubt through years of Kimbal’s incessant alcohol abuse.
McAriicoys made it from the dining hall to Whiskey Control in less than ten minutes. Upon entering he found Horace Hannible, Max’s replacement, sitting at the console in Max’s tattered swivel chair sipping coffee. Not bothering to stand the little man threw McAriicoys a salute.
“At ease,” McAriicoys returned the salute. “Not that you aren’t already.”
“Morning to you too, sir,” Horace greeted. “There’s coffee if you want it.”
“No, thank you. Put out a bulletin. I need these six men rounded up in no less than five minutes and assembled in the conference room.” McAriicoys handed Horace a piece of paper with the names on it.
Horace raised a questioning eyebrow. “Special Ops huh?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just do it.”
“Yes sir.”
McAriicoys strode out of Whiskey Control and made his way to the conference room as Horace’s voice crackled over the loud speakers, calling the names of the men he had been given. A good man Horace, a bit insubordinate but not so much it could not slide in light of his performance.
When he had reached the conference room he was not surprised to find that one of the men had arrived ahead of him. He returned the salute he was given but remained silent as he waited for the arrival of the other five men. One by one they made their way to the meeting, coming from all over the Complex in response to the summons. Once they were all assembled McAriicoys bade them take a seat and proceeded to look them over. McIntovov, Hardim, Donin, Stanfvorf, Stick, and Tol were six of the oldest and most loyal men in Jeshux army. They were also the six most highly trained spies in the outfit and the most likely to make it through the city, pick up the intel that Jeshux was after, and make it home again.
Before he could speak the tall skinny man called Stick cleared his throat. “I take it this isn’t a social call.”
“Shut up, Stick!” Hardim retorted. “Of course this isn’t social.” Hardim was short, squat, and built like a ton of bricks. A complete contrast in almost every way except for their personalities, they were both total smart asses.
Stanfvorf was an analytical man who it seemed was always weighing the facts and considering every factor in a situation. For him there were not any possibilities only certainties and he never spoke hastily. “I would say this has something to do with our guests last night. Perhaps we’re going to repay the visit?” Stanfvorf’s eyebrow arched at the question but he already knew the answer.
“Yes. On both counts,” McAriicoys suppressed a smile. “Jeshux is a little worried about our guests, as you put it Stanfvorf, and I can’t say as I blame him. We’ve been too caught up in our werewolf hunt lately. We’ve lost sight of our primary target and that’s Harmony. We need to find out what he’s up to.”
“You need information and you want us to get it for you,” McIntovov spoke with the same sense of duty that McAriicoys did. This was not surprising as both men came from the same part of AnEerth and were from neighboring tribes. McIntovov, however, was McAriicoys senior by more than a couple of centuries and his trade had supplied him more than an ample amount of wisdom.
“Yes. Exactly,” McAriicoys answered. “I want you men to get your gear together and be prepared to depart for NYC within the hour. We need to know exactly what it is Harmony’s doing, what his plans are as far out as possible, and just what the hell the purpose of the team that got through the Harashna is. Any information that might be deemed pertinent, you know the sort we’re looking for. You’ve all been doing this kind of work for a long time. I trust your judgment.”
“All right,” McIntovov stood up. “Let’s get going.”
McAriicoys raised a hand. “Hold on a second. There’s one more thing.”
“There always is,” Hardim snickered.
McAriicoys gave the short man a hard look and then turned his attention to the two men who had yet to say anything. “Tol, Donin, I want the two of you to get your gear ready but don’t leave. I’ve got a different mission objective that I’d like to discuss with you tomorrow morning, so don’t go anywhere. Understood?”
Both men looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded at McAriicoys.
“Good,” he said standing up. “Alright then, dismissed!”
The six men stood, saluted, and walked out the door. McAriicoys waited until they were gone and then looked around the room uneasily. He was still getting the feeling he was being watched but there was no one around. Strange, his instincts had never been so off. Whatever it was had definitely evoked a little paranoia or else he would not have told Tol and Donin to wait. His plan had been to have the two men follow the other four in concealment, full cloak but something had made him hesitate, had made him change his mind about even mentioning his plan to the two of them. McAriicoys took one long look around the room before shaking his head and leaving.

The next morning dawned gray and overcast. McAriicoys was awake with the birds and making rounds before most of the Complex had gotten up. His first stop, after wandering around for a while, was the barracks where Donin and Tol were bunked. Both men were expecting him and were up making last minute adjustments to their gear. McAriicoys was at ease as he walked in. He had not had any misgivings all morning, no strange sensations of being watched, and no feelings of being followed.
Donin and Tol looked up from their packs and saluted McAriicoys and then went quickly back to work. McAriicoys waited patiently for the two men to finish, watching the efficient way in which everything was checked and double-checked.
When they were finished Donin looked up and spoke in a quiet tone. “What’s this about boss?”
McAriicoys knew that he could trust Tol and Donin so he stuck to the truth, laying down all of his mixed up feelings and instincts seemingly gone awry and finally wrapping it all up with his on the spot decision of the morning before. “I don’t know what it was but all of a sudden I felt like I had to postpone what I was going to say. That’s why I told you guys to wait until today.”
Both men had been quiet until McAriicoys had finished and then Donin spoke again. “So do you think someone was eavesdropping?”
“I don’t know,” McAriicoys shook his head. “But today everything seems normal. I took a long walk around the Complex this morning, everything feels fine.”
Tol made some quick gestures with his hands and fingers. He was a born mute and nothing in either magic or science had been able to help him. McAriicoys had always meant to learn the sign language him and the other men employed but as of yet had not gotten around to it. He turned to Donin for translation.
“Tol’s asking what we’re supposed to do.”
McAriicoys nodded. He should have guessed. Like Pen, Tol was all business.
“Yesterday I was going to have the two of you go out in full cloak, right behind the others, as backup. Today this is still the plan but now you’re going to have to play catch up. Will this be a problem?” The two men shook their heads. “Good. When you get caught up with the other four I want you to warn them to watch their steps, especially once you get to New York. Just in case...”
“In case someone was eavesdropping,” Donin said.
“Precisely.”
Tol’s hands and fingers flew. “He says the goblins came in under concealment, do you think some could’ve stuck around?” Donin translated.
“I don’t know,” McAriicoys told them. “But that would certainly explain my jumpiness. I’ve never once had my instincts betray me, not in almost a thousand years and I don’t see why they’d start now.”
Tol’s hands moved. “It’s something to think about. If there were goblins lurking around following you yesterday, what did they learn?”
McAriicoys looked grim. “Who knows what could’ve been picked up just by wandering around? Let’s hope not much, some gossip maybe. It’ll be up to you and the others, to find that out. As far as following me, well the only things I did yesterday were talk to you guys, and I spoke with Pentooli about the new security measures.”
“That’s not good,” Donin muttered.
“It’s not necessarily bad either,” McAriicoys thought for a minute. “We’ll have to effect some more changes that’s all. I’m going to speak with Pentooli right now for a status report; I can mention these possibilities to her and get her opinion. For now you two know your mission. I want you to get to it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Donin spoke and Tol nodded.
“Good. Dismissed!”
McAriicoys left the two men to finish their preparations, confident they would leave immediately, and went to find Pentooli. He was a little perturbed at the idea that a couple of goblins might have stayed behind to spy on them. Another detail they had shortsightedly failed to consider, it was entirely possible and more than a little probable. It even made sense they would not have stuck around after learning about the new sensor array, explaining why everything felt normal today.
This morning McAriicoys found Pentooli in her barracks. It appeared as if she was just getting ready to leave.
“Morning, Mac,” she greeted with a salute.
“Good morning, Pen. Going somewhere?”
“I was just getting ready for breakfast. I’ve been up since daybreak working on those sensor mods you wanted. Would you care to join me? Or are you too busy this morning, also?”
“Not at all, actually there’s a small matter that I need to discuss with you.” McAriicoys smile concealed his nervousness. What was it about this woman?
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Don’t worry I don’t think it’s anything major, if we take care of it now, otherwise it could be. Anyway let’s get breakfast. I haven’t eaten yet and I’ll tell you then.”
The two soldiers made their way to the dining hall and found a small table somewhat away from the others. McAriicoys picked it out. He did not want to needlessly alert any of the nearby soldiers with tales of lurking goblins sneaking around camp. It was entirely possible he was being paranoid, but better safe than sorry.
He waved over a soldier and ordered him to fetch breakfast for Pentooli and himself. Being a ranking officer did have its perks. Normally he would stand in line with all the rest but today he didn’t want to waste any time, what he had to say to Pentooli was potentially too important. He wanted her to be able to act on the information as quickly as possible.
While they were waiting for their food McAriicoys proceeded to tell Pentooli everything that had happened since he had left her the day before, even how he had embarrassingly ducked into a closet, he told her all about the feelings he had been having, the briefing of the New York team, and how he kept Tol and Donin behind. He told her of his discussion with those two this morning and of the theories they presented. When he was done he sat back, their food had arrived and was growing cold on the table before them.
“Well, I don’t think any of this should prove to be a problem. At least from a home security standpoint,” Pentooli told him. “Everything that we’ve implemented is pretty standard defense. Everything else we talked about is standard stuff, also. The team that got in here was probably expecting to encounter it and considered themselves lucky when they didn’t. The only thing out of the ordinary will be some of the offensive systems that I’ve been customizing from scratch and we didn’t say a word about those. But if you’re worried I could slip in some of the less conventional fail safes.” She grinned wickedly.
McAriicoys felt his legs go a bit rubbery at that smile but retained his composure. “Excellent. I was having some of those same thoughts but wanted to run everything by you just in case I had missed something.”
“I wouldn’t worry Mac, everything’s under control. We’ll have plenty of warning the next time the bastards try to sneak in.”
“Good. I never doubted it for a second. I’ve got full confidence in your expertise Pen, that’s why I came to you in the first place.” And with business settled McAriicoys dug into his breakfast. Pentooli sensed that they were done and followed suit.

*****

Donin and Tol made good time in catching up with the others.
McIntovov, Hardim, and Stick were sitting beside a small fire sipping coffee. Stanfvorf was a little further off relieving himself behind a tree when he heard Hardim swear. He turned just in time to see Hardim’s coffee cup hit the ground and the other two men go flying into the air. There was a shimmer of rainbow luminescence and all of a sudden Donin was standing in front of him with his rifle aimed at his chest.
“Bang,” Donin said quietly.
The other three men were reaching for their weapons when the form of Tol shimmered into view, his whole body shaking with silent laughter.
“You dead head mothers!” Stick jumped up and punched Tol in the chest. The mute paid him little attention and continued to laugh.
McIntovov picked up the coffee cups and refilled them, handing one each to Donin and Tol. “About time you two got here,” he said gruffly.
“What took you so long?” Hardim interjected.
Donin had dropped his pack and taken a seat around the fire. Keeping his rifle close at hand he shrugged. “How’d you figger we’d show?” he asked.
Stanfvorf looked at him in disgust. “Do you have to ask?”
Tol, still laughing, made some quick signs. “It was obvious to you also?” The five companions all understood his signs. The language he used was actually a more sophisticated system based on the hand signals the spies had developed for use in the field.
“Of course,” Stanfvorf said. “We all knew you were meant to come with us. We could tell that something had McAriicoys spooked and he changed his mind about telling us at the last minute, why?”
Donin went into detail, filling the other men in about McAriicoys suspicions.
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” Stanfvorf shook his head after Donin finished.
“It makes sense,” McIntovov grunted.
“Yeah, great,” Hardim enthused sarcastically. “So Harmony knows we’re coming. We’re walking into a trap.”
“We’ll have to build our plans based on that assumption, yes,” Stanfvorf stated matter-of-factly. “But that just might work in our favor. Harmony doesn’t know about Tol and Donin. Even if he suspects them he won’t be certain and that gives me an idea.” So as the team ate, and still later, until well after the fire had burned low and they were all ready for bed, they discussed various plans and hammered out the strategies they would employ in their infiltration of Harmony’s capital of evil.

The reconnaissance team made its way across the country to the outskirts of the city in a surprisingly short time and their progress was quickly made easier. One morning as everyone was getting up a battered old station wagon rolled up to their camp with Hardim behind the wheel wearing an ear to ear grin. When they first made their way to Earth none of the mercenaries had any experience with these types of vehicles but all of them had picked up plenty of experience in the decades since.
The mercenary spies were ecstatic at not having to walk any longer and eagerly piled into the ancient automobile. Tol and Donin resumed their concealment and while they joined their companions in the comfort of the station wagon they did so under the cover of full cloak so as not to blow their cover. The station wagon was only able to go so fast over the broken and rutted road but even so it quickly ate up the miles.
The devastation of the countryside was disconcerting to the six men, to say the least, but none of it compared to the squalor of New York. Even on the outskirts the destitution of the inhabitants was in evidence. People were dirty and dressed in rags; children were running around scantily clad or naked even though it was getting to be the cold season. Buildings were dilapidated; crumbling structures where people sat huddled together next to small fires under the scant protection of open walls. The few homes that were intact were primitive things cobbled together from the debris that could be found scattered everywhere. The spies’ hearts grew hard at these sights and served to further their resolve. If this was the type of world created under Harmony’s rule then the mad sorcerer had to be stopped at all costs. The world that was Earth had to be freed from this oppression and AnEerth had to be spared the fate of similar suffering.
Once New York’s borders were pierced the four visible men traded the station wagon to a peasant family, who were obviously worse off than their neighbors, for information about the safest, most discreet avenues into the heart of the corrupt city. So evident was the family’s gratitude at receiving this unexpected godsend that there was no doubt at all in the soldiers minds as to the authenticity of the information they were provided.
Before they set out the soldiers also appealed to the generous nature of these peasants for some garments they could use as outer wear which would help to disguise their identities. Still overjoyed at the gift of the station wagon happily were they obliged by these poor folk.
The sun set while the mercenaries navigated the twisted remains of what were once four lane roadways. Tol and Donin, always under concealment of cloak, broke trail for their companions and kept a wary eye out for any signs of the enemy. The team made their way slowly through the desolate streets of this once prosperous city.
They had penetrated deep into the outer perimeters and were preparing themselves for a final push to the mysterious tower known as the Empire State Building when Donin suddenly made his presence known. He turned off his audio damper just long enough to whisper to McIntovov, “It’s time. Tol has point. Sixteen goblins approach. I’ll follow. Move forward. Contact in three quarters of a mile.” And then he was silent.
McIntovov knew what to do. He tapped each of his comrades on a shoulder and through hand signals communicated the enemies approach. The men trained their gazes ahead and sure enough the goblins could be ascertained through the gloom. Nobody hesitated. The four visible men maintained a nonchalant pace, giving no outward signs that anything was wrong or of suspect.
The two parties met in the middle of the street. The larger goblin force had their weapons drawn and trained on the mercenaries. They surrounded them silently.
“I hope this works,” Stick signed. Nobody else moved.
One of the goblins broke rank and approached the protective circle the men had instinctively formed. “Who is your leader?” it asked in raspy guttural English.
“We don’t have a leader,” Hardim spoke up.
“Lies! They lie. Bah!” Whisperings and muttering were taken up amongst the goblins.
“Silence!” the spokesgoblin barked. It stepped closer to the four men eying them warily, nostrils flaring. Suddenly it turned toward McIntovov. “You! You are the leader. Do not deny this. We know who you are, mercenary trash!” The goblin spat out the last two words vehemently and made a gesture. Four goblins detached themselves from the group and grabbed the soldiers. Four more approached and disarmed them. There was no resistance.
McIntovov stared at the goblin leader and said nothing.
“Where are your denials now human?” It asked harshly.
Still McIntovov did not speak. His fingers moved almost imperceptibly but the other men picked up his message. Do not resist. Do not speak. Their silence indicated that they understood.
“You will not talk?” The goblin glared at them. “No matter, the Lord Master has many ways in which to coerce your tongue.” And without another word his troops began to herd the men through the streets.
Donin heard everything. Maybe this plan will work, he thought as he approached the spot where he had left Tol. Finding his cloaked companion with a skill born from practice the two men followed their ‘captured’ friends as they were led away.

*****

It had not taken long for someone to come and take Jeshux and Max to where Candlelite and Absinthe were quartered. Not five minutes had passed before a petite little blonde woman appeared and beckoned them to follow her. The two men did not hesitate and soon found themselves in front of a wooden door of medium size. Their guide bowed low and left them with two guards who were stationed to either side of the door. Although Jeshux was a mercenary commander and had no official authority he was recognized and well known by every soldier garrisoned at the castle. The two guards saluted him and one turned to knock on the door. There was a brief pause and then the door opened a crack revealing the silhouette of a man. The door abruptly jerked the rest of the way open and Candlelite stood there with a surprised look upon his face. “Max!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”
The little scientist stepped forward and embraced the younger man warmly. “It’s good to see you kid. You look well,” he said.
Candlelite saw Jeshux from over Max’s shoulder and his eyes grew cold. “You,” he breathed.
“Hello Candlelite,” Jeshux spoke cordially.
“What do you want?” Candlelite asked.
Seeing the tension mounting Max asked, “May we come in?”
Still looking a Jeshux Candlelite stepped aside. “Sure.”
The two men entered as a beautiful young woman approached and took position at Candlelite’s side. Max’s jaw dropped and Jeshux raised an eyebrow. “This must be Absinthe.” The soldier bowed to the woman.
“I am. Who’re you?” Absinthe inquired curiously. She did not recognize him as Candlelite had.
“My name is Jeshux,” Jeshux introduced himself.
Candlelite inhaled deeply. “This is the man who hunted me.” He said the word hunted with disgust.
“Ah,” Absinthe placed a protective arm around Candlelite’s waist.
“Do you have anything to drink?” Max piped up.
“Are you Max?” Absinthe asked. When the older man nodded she said, “Candlelite told me he suspected you of being a whiskey drinker.” When he nodded again she smiled and went to fetch glasses.
Candlelite flushed a little and confessed to Max’s questing glance, “You have a little bit of a smell.”
Max followed Absinthe with a bemused smile and Jeshux stepped up to face Candlelite. Speaking firmly and to the point he said, “Look, I don’t want any animosity between us. I was doing my job and I couldn’t have known that you were friendly.”
“You could’ve asked!” the young man retorted.
“Would you stop and ask a werewolf if he wanted to be friends?” Jeshux responded smoothly.
Candlelite frowned as his own origins cast their heavy shadow across his memory and his shoulders slumped as the anger drained out of him. “No. I guess you might have a point.”
“I’m sure you’re aware of the reasons behind my actions,” the soldier stated. “I’m not going to ask if we can be friends but can we work together?”
Candlelite looked at the soldier thoughtfully. “Sure,” he finally said and shrugged. “But I don’t think we’re going to get much done. As you can see we’re not exactly free to move around much.”
Jeshux nodded his understanding. “Let us talk.”
“Alright,” Candlelite led Jeshux over to where Absinthe and Max were seated. They were chatting and Max was enjoying a tall glass of liquor.
“So, what do you want to talk about?” Candlelite asked taking a seat next to Absinthe.
Jeshux sat next to Max and asked, “How would the two of you like to get out of here?”
Candlelite stiffened and Absinthe suddenly grew interested. “What are you saying?” she asked.
“It’s obvious that, for all of his good intentions, King Zakeriah has imprisoned the two of you.” They nodded and Jeshux continued, “I can understand his logic. You’re very important to these people right now but this is exactly why I can tolerate his approach to this situation only to a certain degree. If the two of you are the chosen saviors, spoken of in prophecy some thousand odd years ago, then how are you suppose to do any saving locked up in here. It’s not to our good to keep you here for your good. Get what I’m saying?”
“Sure,” Candlelite grunted. He was still unsure of all this.
“So what do you suggest?” Absinthe asked.
“A jail break,” Jeshux confided in low tones. “Plain and simple.”

If Candlelite was excited to be free of the castle then Absinthe was absolutely thrilled. They were traveling with Max, Jeshux, and the other mercenary soldiers that had come through the wormhole. The party was sixteen strong and making fairly decent time through a dense forest.
Moving on foot Jeshux had taken point and was leading them to an as of yet undisclosed location. He set a brisk pace that everyone was able to match with a semblance of ease. That is except for Max. When it came to the frail little scientist all semblance was lost. The old man was just not used to that type of exertion, or any other type of exertion for that matter, and after only a little bit of time had passed he was struggling to maintain the pace.

After discussing his plan in thorough detail Jeshux had taken leave of Candlelite and Absinthe, dragging a ‘slightly’ intoxicated scientist with him.
The plan was simple and surprisingly without much risk. Jeshux explained that he would have Max waiting beyond the palace gates, in the city with his men, whom he would brief directly upon departing from these rooms. He would then wait until dark, return alone, and incapacitate the guards. This would be done with ease and then they would be free to make their escape. There was one small flaw in both the magical and mechanical security devices that would allow this, they were all designed to keep people out not to detect people leaving. The only hitch with Jeshux plan, and there had to be one, was one of time. The only chance they would have to leave the castle premises without being confronted was if they left well after dark when most everyone was asleep. This of course would have been fine under normal circumstances procuring the ‘release’ of normal individuals but because of Candlelite and Absinthe’s rather unusual ‘condition’ this could create a potentially embarrassing situation should they be seen. Not everyone would understand having stumbled across a werewolf and a grizzly bear seeming to chase a very recognizable and prominent leader of a respected mercenary army through the castle. So herein lay most of the risk but it was unavoidable and would have to be left to chance.
Things had gone smoothly though. Jeshux had knocked on the door almost silently at fifteen after midnight. Not waiting for a response he pushed it open but did not step into the room beyond. He had mentally prepared himself for the sight he knew was waiting for him but he still reached automatically for the pistol at his waist.
The werewolf and the bear were waiting. At Jeshux sudden appearance the werewolf raised a large, wickedly taloned hand in a gesture of greeting while the bear sat on its haunches and similarly raised a paw. These completely human gestures instantly decided the wary soldier. While a bear might raise a paw in this manner it was an affectation no werewolf, domestic or wild, would ever adopt. Those animals would rather launch an immediate, direct assault than waste time with something so congenial.
“Are you ready?” the immortal asked. It was an obvious question but one Jeshux raised automatically.
The werewolf emitted a low growl from its inhuman larynx while the bear again raised a paw. The answer was as obvious as the question had been.
“Good. Let’s go,” Jeshux said and turned away from the door. It’s a good thing they were placed in these quarters, he thought, or they would never have fit through the door. As it was the werewolf crouched low to pass while the bear only just squeezed her shoulders through. Noting this inconvenience Jeshux had to adjust his decided path of flight in favor of larger portals which placed their little party into more habited regions of the castle. Fortunately luck was on their side and they were able to make it undetected from the castle.
It was almost ten minutes until one o’clock in the morning when they burst into an outer courtyard, through a final set of double doors- almost gate like in their structure- and out into the city proper. Jeshux men were precisely where he had sent them to wait with a visibly agitated Max.
“Thank God you made it!” the scientist wailed. He was not used to all the stress of this cloak and dagger business. Everything had progressed so rapidly throughout the day that he had had trouble keeping up with it all.
“We’re not out of the woods yet,” Jeshux informed him stoically. “We’ve still got to make it free of the city.”
He sent two men ahead on point and then fell in behind them. Then came Max who kept glancing furtively over his shoulder at the monstrous forms of Candlelite and Absinthe as they followed him. Bringing up the rear were four more of Jeshux men with the other six spread out on all sides to form a secure perimeter. Again Lady Luck was with them and it was in this manner that the now fugitive party escaped the over protective clutches of AnEerth’s reigning monarch.
No one noticed the two shadows that doggedly followed them from the city and through the woods.

“I’ve got to stop!” Max finally managed to wheeze as he stumbled to a halt.
The rest of the party came up short and Jeshux turned abruptly. “Damnit! We don’t have time for this Max. It’s almost two and we still have a long way to go.”
The scientist was about to stutter a protest when he was suddenly seized in the strong-clawed grip of Candlelite and placed unceremoniously astride Absinthe’s massive back.
Jeshux chuckled softly at Max’s fearful look and said, “Good. I suppose we can continue now?”
Candlelite nodded his shaggy head and growled in assent.
“Let’s go then.” Jeshux turned away and again made his way swiftly through the forest, traveling a trail that only he seemed to know.
In this manner the fleeing party made their way down the avenues that wound through the dark forest. The moon was full, or near to it, but little light filtered down through the branches. Jeshux began to push for more speed as dawn approached and they were still within wooded confines. He had a destination to make before the light of the dawning sun rose to pierce the horizon. If they were even one second late their refuge would be denied and they would be obliged to seek safety elsewhere. It was improbable that they could accomplish this as he steadily led them further and further from the settled territories.
The edge of dawn stalked the eastern hills and barely lit the edge of the horizon when they burst from the restricting environs of the forest. Jeshux stumbled to a halt and everyone else did also. Breathing heavily the Commander General and his men took a moment to get steady. Although these were disciplined men who were used to such feats of endurance they had been traveling hard for the better part of four hours. They may be immortal but they were still human. Max, from his position atop Absinthe, was less tired. He had been forced to run off and on throughout the long night for Jeshux insisted that if he was to travel with them then he would need to accustom himself to such displays. The two ‘animals’, both heavily muscled, were the least inconvenienced of the party.
The mercenaries were soon to recover and Jeshux gave the order to move out. Dawn was almost upon them and they had little time to spare. Suddenly there was a familiar luminescent shimmer and a woman appeared in their path.
“Farewethor!” Jeshux exclaimed. “Damnit woman, what are you doing here?”
“Commander General, it is good that I found you. The king has been aware now for near three hours of your absence. He has become much vexed and ordered your arrest. It would do you well if you and your companions were to accompany me.” The good witch looked stressed and not altogether sure of herself, as if she waged some sort of inner war, but still she stood fast.
“Listen to me Farewethor!” Jeshux barked. “I don’t have time to argue with you. We need to get to the monastery before first light. I will not let Zakeriah’s good intentions doom us all.” And then with a note of finality he said, “We will not be be returning with you. Not now and not later!”
The small woman smiled sadly and shook her head. “I had feared as much. I do not wish to resort to force sir but I have been authorized for such.” Her eyes seemed to say what her voice could not, please don’t make me do this.
The twelve mercenaries formed a crescent behind and to either side of their leader, drew their rifles and coldly aimed them at the unarmed woman.
“You cannot think your weapons pose any threat to me?” Farewethor asked incredulously.
And indeed they did not. Jeshux was aware of the uselessness of such armaments against the witch. If they had been two dozen strong then perhaps they would have stood half a chance but as it was he gave a silent signal and his men lowered their arms.
“Are you prepared to see reason?” The witch arched an eyebrow.
“No,” Jeshux replied casting a quick glance to the east. The sun, he knew, would soon be upon them. “But perhaps you are.”
Farewethor smiled but her resolve was strong. “And what reason would you present other than the reason before us?” she asked.
Jeshux cleared his throat and then spoke, “You’re an intelligent person Farewethor and I think you realize that in this matter the king is wrong. These two individuals,” he indicated Candlelite and Absinthe with a sweep of his arm. “These two are the Chosen Ones. Without their aid Harmony will surely succeed. How are they to accomplish anything if they’re forced to remain locked behind closed doors in the ‘safety’ of the castle?”
He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. He knew there was uncertainty in Farewethor’s heart and he saw her resolve falter just a little. She was only following orders but she knew the logic behind those orders was faulty and if only he could find the right combination of words, Jeshux knew that Farewethor could be persuaded to abandon her mission.
“Is that what you want?” he asked staring straight into her eyes. “Do you want to live in a world enslaved by the dictatorship of Harmony’s rule? You have family Farewethor. Do you want them to suffer? Do you want them to endure atrocity? You can’t even begin to imagine a land bound by the shackles of evil. I can, I’ve been to Earth. I saw firsthand the brutality of Harmony’s conquest. I, and my men, can attest to the savagery of his takeover.” The other mercenaries nodded in agreement. “And this is a world he has no feeling for. I tell you, with the hatred he harbors his homeland the evil of his actions will only be multiplied. I implore you Witch Farewethor, do not condemn our fair country to the horror of Harmony’s onslaught.”
“Jeshux,” Farewethor bowed her head, all formality abandoned and the pain of her indecision plain upon her face. “If I do not return with the Chosen Ones then I cannot return at all. My betrayal to the crown will be easily made known.” She looked up directing the full force of her gaze at Jeshux. “What would you have me do?”
Relief flooded through Jeshux entire body. His men sensed the change in their situation and began to relax, the tension all but disappeared.
“There’s only one thing I ask of you,” Jeshux returned the witch’s stare steadily. “We’re bound for the Midnight Monastery. We have already been delayed too long to arrive there before the sun rises. You know the importance of this requirement, so this is what I ask.” The Commander General stepped forward and offered his hand to Farewethor. “Join us. Join us and deliver us on time to our destination.”
Farewethor stood without moving, pondering the choices of her dilemma. Then without a word she grabbed Jeshux hand in hers and the entire party began to shimmer with a rainbow luminescence. Farewethor could only hope she had made the right choice.

*****

The two shadows moved from where they were concealed within the trees and stood in the confusion of footprints that covered the area.
Dan and Dave had followed the fugitives all night as they made their way through the dense forest. Their presence had never been suspected.
Observing the drama that had just unfolded they experienced a brief moment of panic at the thought of returning to the city they had just left. Now though they were in a deeper state of panic as they surveyed the ground around them. They had lost their prey and had no idea where the witch had spirited them. Had she in fact spirited them back to the confines of the castle, or had she been seduced by the soldiers touching speech and rushed them to the safety of this Midnight Monastery?
As it was logic served the situation. Although the two spies had no means of communicating with each other over long distances they still had two possible answers, leading in two opposite directions, to two destinations, they decided to split up.
Unfortunately they had never been to, or even heard of, this Midnight Monastery but both agreed that logic seemed to dictate that if one of them proceeded in the direction they had been headed in then he would in all probability reach this unknown place.
And so it was agreed. After spending nearly their entire lives together Dan and Dave said their farewells and set out on separate paths, Dan in the presumed direction of the Midnight Monastery and Dave back to the city of Dirsellia. Neither man suspected that this would be the last time they would see each other.

*****

King Zakeriah was furious. He had never been so angry in his entire life. He was known throughout the kingdom- throughout the globe- as a fair, wise, and above all calm man. Even the queen, who had been his companion for many, many years, had not seen him in such a state of agitation. She sat on a small stool and watched as he paced up and down the length of their private apartment. Occasionally he would suddenly stop, turn toward her his face red with rage, fire a sentence or three in her direction, and then resume pacing as she struggled to answer his tirade in a calming manner.
“Betrayed!” he wailed. “And by one of my most trusted friends!”
“His reasons are his own, my lord,” she spoke softly. “He has not effaced this act through maliciousness.”
“Be that as it may,” the king retorted. “I am still ruler of these realms.”
“And I am sure Lord Jeshux is still loyal to you as such,” Mega’N soothed.
Zakeriah spun to face his queen. “Bah! He is no lord and loyalty, for its worth, has been proven.”
“My Lord,” Mega’N was calm. “I do not wish to take sides in this manner but Jeshux logic proves a point…”
“It proves nothing!” the king roared.
Seemingly serene the queen’s face did nothing to betray her thoughts. My what a reversal of roles this is, she mused, normally I am the unreasonable buffoon.
Aloud she continued as if Zakeriah had not interrupted her, “How could the Chosen Ones have fulfilled the prophecy with you keeping them under lock and key?”
He spun to face her again. “Providence,” the king spoke. “The will of the prophecy would have shown us the path.”
Ah ha! Queen Mega’N smiled inwardly. Here is the opportunity that I have been awaiting. “My lord,” she smiled her sweetest smile. “Wouldn’t it seem that this is exactly what has happened? Are our feet not treading the very path which you were seeking?”
At this the king stopped his restless pacing but this time he did not turn.
“My lord?” Mega’N inquired gently. “Can you not trust fate?”
The proud king turned to his beautiful wife, his Queen, and there were tears in his eyes. One single drop rolled down each cheek as he knelt before her and took her hands in his before speaking, “I am going to increase the search teams tenfold.”
This was not the response Mega’N had anticipated. “Ten fold! But Zakeriah, why?”
And then the king smiled and the light of sanity was returned to his eyes. “Because, my wife, Lord Jeshux may need my help before this war is over and I cannot give it to him if I don’t know where he is.”
The queen sighed with relief and hugged her husband tightly. “Oh my lord, I knew you would see reason!” she cried.
“Yes, my love. Let us hope that I may repair the damage that I have wrought.”

*****

The four mercenary spies sat in opposing corners of the damp subterranean cell they had been deposited in. They were cold, they were frustrated, but above all they were hungry.
“Where the hell is Tol and Donin?” Stick muttered for what seemed the thousandth time. “We’ve been stuck in here for at least three days!”
Hardim laughed hollowly. “Shut up Stick. You sound like you’ve never been in a situation like this before.”
“Just because I have the experience doesn’t mean I have to like it,” the skinny spy grumbled.
From outside their cell door came quiet sounds of a short skirmish. Stick jumped to his feet in sudden animation. “Finally!” he exclaimed gaily as the locks clicked and the door creaked open.
The four prisoners stumbled out squinting in the sudden light of the hallway. Tol and Donin stood before them grinning and handed each man their guns and a slab of what appeared to be beef. Two goblins lay dead on the floor at their feet.
“What the hell took so long?” Stick demanded around a mouthful of meat as he eyed the green devils.
“Eat on the run,” Donin told him. “We don’t have time to explain!”
Tol had already started down the passageway, his figure shifting to invisibility as he moved. The four men looked at Donin grimly and shrugged. They made sure their rifles were ready for action and started after their mute compadre.
The fleeing soldiers came quickly to a set of stairs. Taking them two at a time they reached the top and rounded a corner just in time to see a handful of goblins barreling towards them. An invisible Tol hurled through the bunch and they scattered, falling to all sides as the plasma rifles of the other men flared and cut them down. Then they were through and headed up another flight of stairs.
Electric lamps hung from the ceiling in the next hallway and blinked their wane light intermittently; casting the soldier’s shadows across the walls in strange, disjointed patterns as they fled. Behind them a closed door abruptly swung open and goblins began to pour into the hallway firing an assortment of projectile weapons into the dodging shadows. Stanfvorf spun around, dropped to one knee, and began to fire a volley of hot plasma at their attackers. Goblins screamed as the liquid fire burned into them but for every one that fell three more appeared to take its place. A bullet tore into Stanfvorf’s body, piercing his lung before continuing its journey into the wall. The man screamed and his voice gurgled as his lungs filled with blood but he kept pumping plasma into his enemies.
McIntovov appeared with Hardim and both men helped scatter goblins with their own weapons. Then each grabbed either side of Stanfvorf and the trio staggered away while a manic Stick covered them from a doorway at the hall’s end. Stanfvorf gurgled as he attempted to scream again as his left knee was blown out by one of the goblins and his saviors staggered under his full weight, barely getting him around the corner. Stick fired another couple of shots and then ducked around the corner himself.
Stanfvorf sat with his back to a wall while McIntovov tried to stop the flow of blood that was pumping from his chest but it was no use and Stanfvorf knew it.
Smiling a bloody grin he tried to shout, “I’m done for old friend! Leave me!” He only managed to cough up more blood and in no way made himself heard over Stick and Hardim’s cover fire. The dying man pulled a thermite grenade from Donin’s belt as he suddenly reappeared at his side.
Looking into the dying mans eyes McIntovov nodded gravely and signaled to Stick and Hardim. The two men glanced at him, then at their dying friend, fired a couple more rounds and turned and fled. McIntovov again looked into Stanfvorf’s eyes then he and a vanishing Donin also turned to make their escape.
The goblins came cautiously around the corner expecting an ambush. What they were not expecting was a blood spattered human with a mangled leg and a grenade.
Stanfvorf looked at the green skinned freaks with dimming eyes and coughed up a puddle of blood. Then the goblin in front of him widened his eyes in surprise and tried to order its confused brethren away as the human raised the grenade. The pin was already gone.
“Time to fry,” Stanfvorf gurgled and popped the priming latch.
There was a blinding flash of light and a heat as hot as the burning core of a sun. A tongue of flame burst down both passages from the corner of the hallway. The incendiary torch that was the thermite grenade annihilated any trace of Stanfvorf and the goblins nearest to him. Those further away were still burnt to a crisp, most beyond all recognition. The hallway became an impassable wreckage of burning rubble.
“Death’s head,” McIntovov shook his head as he ran feeling the barest touch from the great heat upon his back. “Poor Stanfvorf!”
But the enemy gave the big man no reprieve for his grief. The stricken team of escaped spies had been imprisoned under a neighboring building of the Empire State Building and as they burst from the set of double doors at the top of the last flight of stairs they suddenly found themselves in a ground floor foyer.
“Thank you! Thank you!” Hardim exclaimed as he flanked to the right.
Stick flanked to the left, his gun at the ready and his face grim. He and Stanfvorf had joined Jeshux mercenary force at the same time. Except for McIntovov they were the two oldest special ops spies. The loss of his friend had begun to sink in. It affected him deeply and erased his carefree nature. As the small team escaped the restricted confines of the building his face was set in a mask of hatred. Bloodlust welled up inside of him and he began itching for something to kill, anything. He did not have to wait long.
They banged through the turn style door of the main exit and staggered outside onto a wide sidewalk. The sun was shining down through the long corridors of tall buildings, brighter than any electric lamp. The men squinted at its intensity and tried to get their bearings. They were not given the chance.
The werewolves swarmed from the alleys on either side of them. Firing their weapons wildly into the slobbering horrors converging on them the soldiers took the only course available, the broad avenue directly ahead. They crossed it moving at an angle and ran for all they were worth into a darkened alley the sun had no way of penetrating. Trash and debris littered both sides almost a man’s height deep in places.
Trudging through the stinking refuse the men fired their rifles over their shoulders at the mindless animals and prayed fervently for the passage ahead to remain clear until they hit the open street. But no such luck was with them this time. As they got to within twelve feet of the alley’s end more of the shaggy gray beasts appeared and rushed toward them.
They had no choice, without stopping they tried to clear the way with a barrage of molten plasma but it did not seem like it would be enough. Suddenly a grenade blinked into existence and flew into the alley from the sunlit street beyond. It landed into the middle of the monstrous beasts and exploded sending bloody chunks of meat and unidentifiable body parts in every direction. A taloned paw larger than a grown man’s foot went sailing past McIntovov’s head as he ran.
“It’s Tol,” Donin’s disembodied voice intoned from somewhere in front of the three other men.
Then they were all in the street and the path was clear for the moment. Tol’s grenade had done its job. McIntovov signaled and the men made their way through the streets always moving in an southern direction. If they could get out of New York and into what used to be New Jersey McIntovov knew they would be okay. Luck, it seemed, was proving to be a fickle mistress.
The mercenaries turned right down a narrow one-way street and found themselves stumbling into the rear guard of a mixed goblin, werewolf force. They did not give their foes a chance to react as grenades were thrown and plasma fired before they beat a hasty retreat back around the corner.
“McIntovov!” Hardim cried out in warning.
The old spy turned as a shadow flickered in his peripheral vision. He was just in time to catch the full weight of a medium sized werewolf square on his chest. The animal was gray, like most werewolves but with streaks of brown and black shot through its fur. Baleful red eyes, sunk deep into the hollows of its skull, glared at McIntovov as he stumbled backward. Taking advantage of the brief opening the mighty creature latched onto the grizzled warriors left shoulder and tore out a huge chunk of flesh. McIntovov cried out in pain doubly intense as he landed with the weight of the werewolf on his left arm, which cracked the bones cleanly in two. Then as suddenly as it had appeared it was gone, blown free from atop its victim by a flurry of plasma.
Looking grim Hardim stood over his fallen companion. He reached out, grasped McIntovov’s good arm, and hauled him to his feet.
“Thanks,” the older soldier grimaced. “I owe you one.”
“Don’t mention it,” Hardim grinned humorously.
“Let’s go already!” Stick called out. The tall wiry man was raining plasma into the enemy force that had begun to make its way around the corner. After recovering from the initial surprise of the human attack the goblins and werewolves were thirsty for their blood.
“Damnit!” Hardim yelled as they ran. “This city is nothing but a giant den of evil. We’ll never make it!”
“Shut up and save your breath for running!” Stick yelled back.
The men were getting worried though. There had been no sign of either Tol or Donin for a while now. This would not have been so bad if they did not have all of the ammo. The three spies had all noticed the low charges of their rifles and started to worry about when those charges would be depleted.
Without warning a manhole cover in the street in front of them went flying into the air. Hardim ran while half turned around and fired his almost empty clip into the pursuing masses. Hearing the clang of the heavy circle of iron as it hit the ground he turned back the way he was heading just as the werewolf cleared the dark hole in the cracked asphalt. Only five feet away the startled soldier did not stand a chance. As he swung his rifle around to take aim at this new opponent the lupine creature snarled, cleared the distance between them and tore out his throat, taking half of his neck with him. Hardim’s death was almost instantaneous as he collapsed in a gush of arterial red.
Two streams of plasma converged, burning through the monsters torso as McIntovov and Stick ran past their fallen comrade. Hot on their trail the terrible crush of creatures gave them no time to pause to feel the hurt of another friend lost.
Grenades suddenly winked into existence again and fell once more into the pursuing horde, raining hot shrapnel and liquid fire into their midst. This fortuitous turn of events gave the two men a slight reprieve as the werewolves and goblins dove for cover.
“Hurry up. This way!” intoned the frantic voice of Donin.
The two mercenaries increased their pace and veered off to the left into the alley the voice had called from.
As soon as they were within the alleys gloom Stick and McIntovov were pushed roughly into the now familiar piles of debris. As they lay side by side both men felt an almost smothering pressure of invisible weight as it settled none too gently on top of them.
There was a quick rustle of fabric and then close on their ears they heard Donin whisper, “Don’t move. Don’t even breathe. Tol and I have thrown our capes over us. Hopefully it’ll be enough.” Both men instantly understood. They were under concealment, not full cloak but surely enough.
They did not have to wait long to find out if their desperate ploy would work. No sooner had Donin fallen silent then a group of their attackers entered the alley. The goblins entered behind a pack of werewolves, projectile and plasma weapons ready. The lupine part of the force dropped to all fours, snuffling and sniffing as they tried to follow the potent scent of fear their prey had exuded.
The creatures smelt of death, a rancid mix of rotting meat and excrement. As the beasts stopped near them the stench almost caused the concealed men to retch and reveal their position. Barely managing not to gag they were relieved when the animals continued down the alley and took the questing goblins with them.
Confused at the sudden disappearance of the trail it had been following one of the werewolves came back to where the four men lay, lifted one leg, and marked the spot with a quick jet of urine. After it was done it let out a long howl of frustration and loped off to follow its fellows.
Thoroughly disgusted the soldiers managed to stay quiet as they waited for a safe amount of time to pass, giving their pursuers a chance to leave the vicinity. One of the cloaked men rose and made a quick survey of the area. Upon his return a quick succession of taps on McIntovov’s shoulder were enough to inform him that it had been Tol. The coast was clear.

*****

The Midnight Monastery was a medium-large solid stone structure that measured around two hundred and seventy five to three hundred and fifty feet square. Its walls were made of large quarried stones that had been hand hewn into two foot by four foot tall by two-foot deep bricks that were carefully staggered on top of each other utilizing only their weight to keep them together. A massive gate made entirely of ironwood thirteen feet tall, five and a half feet wide was opened to the rising sun. This was the outside, inside the monastery was just as plain. Once through the gate there was a small courtyard with a dirt and gravel floor that opened to the sky. It was about fifteen feet by twenty feet square. Directly opposite the outer gate was another door also made of ironwood, but made to fit human proportions. This small, enclosed area was where Jeshux and party suddenly found themselves scant minutes ahead of the dawn.
“Whoa,” Max said as he tried to steady himself. “Not nearly as bad the second time around.” Jeshux however, completely acclimated to the effects of teleportation, wasted no time and ran over to pound on the inner doorway.
“Hello!” he yelled as he banged his fists against the solid wood. “Sanctuary! We seek sanctuary! Hurry, please. Sanctuary!”
There was the audible click of a lock being loosed, and a thunk as the bolt was drawn, then the door swung silently outward on well oiled hinges. Jeshux stepped quickly backward and out of the way.
An old, somewhat short and stooped man stood in the doorway. He had a balding head supporting the barest hint of hair around its fringes. He also had a long thick mustache that fell on either side of his mouth, past the bottom of his chin. He was dressed in typical monk fashion, a coarse, brown robe of plain burlap, soft with the frequency of use and held around the middle with a wide leather belt that had begun to crack with age.
“We seek sanctuary,” Jeshux repeated.
He glanced at the strangers and only showed a twinge of interest at the sight of a werewolf and a bear in his courtyard, the monk smiled broadly and gestured inside. “Be welcome. You’re a little bit late.”
At that very moment, seemingly by magic although it was not, the two animals began to melt and twist into themselves in a grotesque manner that could have been described as revolting if not for the fact that it was utterly fascinating. Skin flowed like hot wax, bones cracked and reformed, joints popped in a sickening symphony of sound, and hair shortened until in most places it disappeared entirely. All in all the sight of such an unnatural transformation was disconcerting and more than a little disturbing. It boggled the mind as the senses were assaulted with the impossibility of all that mass shrinking, not disappearing but transmogrifying into a smaller form. Max was especially stupefied. Not only had the little scientist almost no experience with magic but also as a physicist this transformation defied all the laws of nature he had learned to except as almost sacred and pushed the meaning of the improbable as he knew it all out of proportion.
As unexpectedly quick as the transformation began it was over. The first rays of the newly dawned sun came streaking over the top of the wall into the shadowed courtyard, illuminating just the barest first centimeters of the inside top of the west wall. Where the werewolf and bear had been now knelt the naked forms of a man and a woman.
Candlelite rose shakily to his feet and then moved to help Absinthe take hers. The monk was grinning broadly, obviously delighted by their sudden transformation, and gestured impatiently for everyone to hurry inside.
Seeing the two naked people, faces red with embarrassment and unsure smiles fixed as they shuffled into the dimly lit enclosure of the monastery, Farewethor quickly waved her hands through the air and produced a simple set of clothes.
“Thank you.” The pair gratefully took the proffered garments and stepped off to one side of the room to dress.
The old monk nodded in satisfaction at these proceedings and then led the group through narrow, poorly lit hallways until they reached a stairwell that led down into further gloom.
Indicating the stairs the monk said to Jeshux, “Your men may go below. There they shall find accommodations suitable to their needs. As for the rest of you, please follow me.”
Turning to his men Jeshux barked, “Alright! You heard the man. Proceed below and I’ll be down to debrief you ASAP, dismissed!” And then he turned with the others to follow the old monk who was beginning to move down another hallway.
As there was only one floor of the monastery at ground level and it was not too terribly large, they did not follow the monk far. After only a short distance he paused at a door and held it open with one hand while he ushered everyone through with his other.
This new room was not large but nor was it small, some would have called it cozy. A fireplace set into one wall sat unused in these warmer days but was clean and fueled, ready to be lit when needed. A small table was pushed into one of the corners with two chairs, one at each of its exposed sides, and a large candle unused sat at its center. There was also an oak bookshelf against a wall that easily held a thousand volumes on various topics. A sparse bed lay against the only free wall. Little more than a mattress it was none-the-less impeccably made up. The last of the room’s prominent features was a large old fashioned chandelier made of candles and a large hand woven throw rug that had been laid in front of the fireplace.
All of the candles in the chandelier were lit and it was to the rug that the monk directed his guests, sitting down on it cross-legged as an example. One by one the refugees also sat on the rug until they were all in a circle and faced one another.
“Ah. Good, good.” The monk nodded his head. “Welcome to my room, all of you. We of the Midnight Monastery have been waiting for you. My name is Jinnihannahowuu but you may call me Jin.” And then he began to nod his head again.
While the old man spoke Candlelite had thought, we of the monastery, and considered it kind of odd as he had not seen anyone other than Jin as they made their way to the room.
“And where is everybody else?” Absinthe beat him to the punch.
“Oh they’re around,” Jin grinned and waved a hand about absently. “May I ask if you’ve been named yet she-bear?”
Absinthe managed only to look a little startled at the old man’s question but composed herself quickly and answered, “My name is Absinthe.”
Jin looked into her eyes and said, “Yes, yes. Perfect.” He turned to Candlelite. “Absolutely perfect.”
Candlelite looked across at Jeshux and asked, “Does the whole world know who we are?”
Jeshux shrugged his shoulders and nodded towards Jin. “He can tell you more than I can.”
“Yes. I’m sure I can,” the old man giggled. “And you are sir?”
“Commander General Jeshux DuTerriux Jules, founder and leader of the IMEC,” Jeshux informed him formally.
“Ah yes, the Immortal Mercenary Elite Corps. Well, now I know the three of you and you know me but who are you two?” Jin looked to the witch and the scientist.
Farewethor squared her shoulders proudly. “I am Witch Farewethor, thaumaturgical member of High King Zakeriah’s Magician Consultans.”
“I’m Doctor Maximillian Kimbal, a physicist from Earth,” Max said simply. “I don’t suppose you have anything to drink?”
Jin smiled, “Nothing alcoholic Earthman and I’m sure that’s what you are after. I can offer you a most pleasing selection of non-alcoholic beverages.”
Max declined looking more than a little disappointed and the monk nodded his head. “Anyone else?” He nodded again after the rest of the group had also declined.
“Well then,” he said. “Now that we are all acquainted I can answer your question young man.” Looking at Candlelite he continued, “Not everyone on AnEerth will know your identity, no. In fact I would be surprised if many would recognize you on sight, although there will be a few and there are more than a few now who are aware of your presence in our world.”
Candlelite regarded the old monk for a moment before he asked, “And who are you exactly? What is this place?”
Jin looked quizzically at Jeshux. “You are the leader? You brought them here?” They had been more statements than questions proper but when Jeshux nodded Jin asked, “And you told them nothing?”
“No,” the soldier answered. “We were sort of pressed for time.”
“Ah yes, the king,” Jin’s brows furrowed and he turned back to Candlelite and Absinthe. “This, as you know, is the Midnight Monastery. I, Jinnihannahowuu, am the Monk Manager and Keeper of the Prophetic Teachings. These are wisdoms that include, but are not limited to, the prophecy of the Werewolf Candlelite and the Nameless She-Bear. In other words I am a seer and an oracle.” Jin smiled, something Candlelite was noticing the old monk did quite a bit of.
“So you can see the future,” Absinthe said delighted.
“Oh no, at least not in the manner that you imply, there are no true seers or oracles alive today. At least that we know of. The ones who do exist are only tellers of knowledge already divined, such as the prophecy dealing with your arrival. You see, for some reason that none have yet to fathom, none of the prophecies can be recorded in the traditional way. Instead with the passing of one seer or oracle the knowledge that the person has is transferred, or imprinted rather, into the mind of whichever of his or her apprentices which has been deemed suitable. Only in this way can the prophetic wisdoms be saved, passed on from generation to generation.”
“Quite unbelievable,” Max interjected. “And you say there aren’t any more new guys?”
Jin shook his head sadly. “There have been no new visions in almost nine hundred years. Not since the time of the last great seer, the Prophet Elijah.”
“And what did he predict?” Absinthe asked.
“That I can not divulge,” Jin told her.
“And why is that?” Absinthe resorted to her best petulant little girl voice.
“Now, now child,” Jin nodded his head and smiled. “Do not take that tone. I do not deny you this knowledge out of spite but out of necessity. There is a time when the general revelation of a prophecy will do the most good, too soon or too late and things may turn catastrophic. The time to reveal Elijah’s teachings has not arrived.”
“Oh, ok,” she said. “I guess that makes sense.”
“Shouldn’t prophecy be impartial?” Max spoke up.
“What?” Jin asked.
“Shouldn’t prophecy be impartial?” Max repeated. “You said that there was a time when a prophecies revelation would do the most ‘good’. I’ve always considered prophecy, in concept, to be a thing of neutrality not something that takes sides.”
“Ah,” Jin nodded his head. “This is true. Prophecy is a thing of neutrality and to the extent of relaying the truth of the prophecy the prophet must remain impartial. This does not mean that a prophet must be impartial. A prophet is still a person, is still a man or woman and as such is a creature that possesses morals and a value system, which will ultimately lead them down a path of either good or evil. This is what I meant by saying that a prophecy may do good.”
“Ok,” Max said satisfied. “So what are we doing here?”
“You have asked for sanctuary,” Jin answered. “Beyond that I cannot tell you. I only know your fate; I do not know the path by which it shall be achieved.”
“Great,” Candlelite muttered.
“That’s not a problem,” Jeshux said.
“It’s not?” Candlelite sounded a bit sarcastic.
“No,” Jeshux replied evenly. “You all want to know what we’re going to do next. I know what I’m going to do next and it involves you staying here.”
“So you’re leaving?” Absinthe ventured.
“Yes.”
“And we’re supposed to stay here?” Absinthe began to heat up.
Jeshux looked at Candlelite. “You sure did find yourself a feisty one.” And then to Absinthe, “You don’t have to stay here.”
“So we’re not prisoners again?” she looked unsure.
Jeshux smiled at her and said, “Now why would I go through all of the trouble of busting you out of one prison just to bring you to another?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I don’t know that you wouldn’t either. What’s your agenda? Why are you doing this? What is it motivating you?”
Again Jeshux smiled. “Very good,” he said. “You’re right; you don’t know anything about me. Let me try and reassure you then that my motives are entirely honorable. I’m doing what I’m doing because I was asked to and because I believe the two of you can help. But I don’t believe that the two of you are going to be able to do any good if all of your actions are dictated to you. This is why I said if you feel it’s necessary you're free to leave. I’m going to ask you to stay here until I get back though.”
“And why should we do that?” Candlelite asked.
“Because I’m going to get information that may prove valuable to our cause so I am going to come back. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone for though and in the meantime I believe that not only will the Midnight Monastery be the safest place for you to stay but it’ll also be a place where you can learn some valuable skills.”
Jeshux eyes narrowed and suddenly the man looked like the cold, hard military commander he was. “Son, whether you like it or not you’re in the middle of a war. A war that you were born into, that was forced upon you, but a war none-the-less. Because of fate you have been allotted a special place in this war and although you have special abilities beyond anything ever seen, at least by anyone on AnEerth, you don’t know the first thing about warfare.’
“But you expect us to be able to learn these things,” Candlelite speculated.
“Precisely,” Jeshux confirmed. “But more than that you’re also going to have to learn something about AnEerth, about its people, its culture, a little of our history and our way of doing things. As you may have noticed, although we have technology far superior to anything your Earth has ever developed, this technology is only a supplement. While Earth evolved along a technological path AnEerth was evolving along a path of magic. This is the only reason our technology is so supreme, because we have the magic with which to craft it.”
Suddenly Max interrupted, “Sorry, this is maybe a little off the subject, but you said these kids have abilities the likes of which the people of AnEerth have never seen. And before, back at the Complex you said something else that’s relevant. Now, in the young ladies case, there are primitive cultures on Earth that have traditions that cover Absinthe with tales of shape shifters who can take on many forms, animal or otherwise and as far as Candlelite goes, why on Earth we have myths and folklore dating back centuries that speak of werewolves, men who in the light of the full moon transform into wolves.”
“Be that as it may,” Jin supplied. “We of AnEerth have no such tales. Our werewolves are only dumb animals, smarter than your average canine and able to be trained by men but animals just the same.”
“Ok, I can buy that,” Absinthe chimed in. “But to get back to what Jeshux was saying for just a moment. Do you expect us to learn magic?”
Jeshux turned his steely gaze to hers. “I expect that magic may be just one of many things that you may be inclined to learn while I’m gone.” And then he raised an eyebrow. “If, that is, you decide to stay.”
“You’re going back to Earth?” Max inquired.
“Among other places yes. There are some people here that I’ll need to contact also but inevitably I’ll end up back on Earth.”
“I’m staying here,” Max told him.
Jeshux reached over and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Good. I was going to suggest that you did.”
Candlelite looked over at Absinthe and searched her face for something. Seeming to find what he was looking for he nodded and told Jeshux, “I guess we’ll be staying also, at least for a little while.”
“Excellent!” Jeshux clapped his hands together. “You’ll be in good hands here. I’m going to leave first thing tomorrow morning. Farewethor, I’d like you to come with me in order to supply my transportation needs while I’m on AnEerth. I’m going to take six of my men with me and the other six I’m going to leave here. After I’ve concluded my business here I’ll leave through the Harashna and send Farewethor back. That way you’ll know when I’ve gone back to Earth and you can begin to await my return.”
The old soldier looked about the circle at the tired expressions around him. “So, is there anything else?” He received silence in answer to his query, grunted and said, “I suppose we’re all hungry and tired so let’s eat and then get some sleep.”
The people rose slowly from the rug. Jin, nodding and smiling, waited for everyone to get to his or her feet and then led them from the room.


It was noon when McAriicoys was informed that Tol had returned. Meeting the obviously trail worn man he was immediately worried. Tol was dirty, he stank, and his clothes, torn and tattered, were covered in blood, not all of which was his. He was also alone and that in itself was definitely not a good sign.
“Tol, Death’s head man, what happened?”
Tol looked up at McAriicoys from the spot he had been staring at on the floor. His eyes were haunted, with dark circles under them but they were still clear and bright. He smiled. The expression was sad and not a little forced. He made some offhand gesture.
“Damnit man, I can’t understand you!” McAriicoys said exasperated. His frustration was not aimed at the deaf mute though but at his own inability to communicate. As a ranking officer he should have learned the special language that was employed by the spies long ago.
“Don’t worry,” he said and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You’re obviously exhausted. Instead of putting you through all of this right now I want you to go get some rest. When you’re ready you can type up your report and deliver it to me.” Then he grew serious and locked his gaze with Tol’s. “As long as you’re ok with that, if you think that whatever it is you have to tell me can wait. Can it wait, Tol?”
Tol hesitated for a minute, maybe more, and considered the importance of the information he carried. McAriicoys waited patiently and then slowly Tol nodded his head.
“Very well,” McAriicoys said. “Twelve hours and I want your report in my hands, no less, dismissed!”
Tol again favored McAriicoys with that sad smile and headed for his quarters.
McAriicoys shook his head in wonder. Just what had the battered man been through to cause him such melancholy? What had happened to the rest of the squad? He shook his head again. In twelve hours he would have the answers to these questions. He also left and went about his business.


Will the planet of AnEerth be able to withstand the awesome power of Harmony’s new weapon? What information does Tol have for McAriicoys? Will Candlelite and Absinthe be up to the challenge of facing Harmony’s awful might?

Find out what happens next in the stunning sequel to The Quantum Prophecy -In Harmony We Trust- available soon in paperback from Meadow Press!

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 19.05.2011

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