The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves (110 page)

The world suddenly went
gold, the color blossoming from the edge of his vision until it
influence what he saw. Everywhere he looked was tinged with it,
like he was looking through a pair of sunglasses with lens tinted
thusly.

“
You taking ‘roids,
dude?”

Snout. Jaw.
Teeth.

It fell into place. As
though some ghostly key had turned in his chest, he felt incredible
heat surge through him.

The gold turned slightly
red.

The Hël-Hünd
loomed.

Why was it so close
now?

Did it matter?

Like a batter on the left
side of Home Plate, Jason swung the wooden log he’d been holding
the entire time. He swung for the fences. The front of the
Hël-Hünd’s jaw had become an invisible fastball, right down the
pipe. It was beautiful. It was terrible. It was perfect. It was a
home run.

Expecting the log to crack
loudly against the bone of the creature, Jason was amazed when the
wood swept through its’ jaw as if they were made of paper mache and
kept going. It ripped through the cheek, then the gums, then the
hinge of its’ gaping maw and into the base of the Hël-Hünd’s skull.
Having played baseball competitively as a child, Jason knew his
forearms must turn over themselves in order for the swing to be
true. As he completed this memorized motion, the log came free of
the corrupted dog’s head, right below its’ ear, a gigantic swath of
blood and brains following.

It had just registered. He
had killed the Hël-Hünd. The momentum of his swing making his arms
twist the upper portion of his body as far as it would go when a
second Hël-Hünd smashed into him, knocking him to the floor. The
wooden log, now covered in gore, spun away, lost.

He hit the ground hard,
air expelling from his lungs explosively, pain and shock
immobilizing him. He skidded to a halt, the large malformed dog
already on top of him. He tried to bring his arms around, so he
could defend himself. They were stuck under the clawed foot of the
Hël-Hünd. He couldn’t move them. He was pinned,
helpless.

The teeth of the beast
descended.

Then, it simply wasn’t
there anymore.

*****

Mikalah heaved with all of
her might, which wouldn’t have amounted to much if she hadn’t hit
the Hël-Hünd with every ounce of speed she could muster in such a
short distance. The effect, though, was immediate.

Where her tiny hands
touched the hind-quarters of the evil canine - the fur, the skin,
the muscle, the sinew and the bones - all of it, crumpled, folded
back upon itself. When the jumbled mass of flesh finally resisted,
Mikalah shoved at it with every last bit of strength in her
possession. As if thrown by a giant, the Hël-Hünd flew from its’
perch atop her newfound friend, sailed some thirty feet away,
crashing with terrifying force against the wall of the cave. Its’
brains were dashed into pulp, nearly every bone in its’ body
snapped or simply shattered from the impact. It hadn’t even had the
time to make a sound. Its’ life was extinguished before it knew it
had died.

She let time speed back up
to normal, stopping fractions of an inch from Jason, who was still
lying upon the ground. She wasn’t looking his way, though. She
managed to see Joaquin finally edge his way about the fire, heading
toward Andrew and Louis when the cave went dark.

Elena had dispatched the
last of the Hël-Hünds chasing the large teen toward the back of the
cave. It was a pile of ash before the light returned.

Mikalah nodded in
satisfaction. Sweat was beading upon her narrow brow, her stomach
utterly empty now from the tremendous amounts of energy she’d been
exerting. She hadn’t eaten anything this morning.

Instinctively, she turned
toward the sounds of combat, seeing the Fist, minus Mugzy, finish
off the last of the Hël-Hünds they’d been fighting. Claws and
teeth, they used with devastating efficiency. She was about to
smile when the Isig-Pjäs crossed her field of vision, striding
awkwardly upon three legs, heading straight for her brother, the
last four Hël-Hünds following.

Though she was faster than
any human to have ever lived, she knew she couldn’t reach Anthony
in time. For a second time, in less than a week, her brother was
about to die right before her eyes.

*****

Elena’s eyes moved from
the left to right across the expanse of the cave. Leaving the husk
of the Hël-Hünd in her mental wake, she settled her stare upon
Mikalah and was surprised to see terror written on her face.
Why? We are winning?
she
thought, following her sister’s gaze. She was shocked to see the
Isig-Pjäs hurtling down the very middle of the cave toward Anthony,
a wicked grin on its’ misshapen visage, its’ man-ish orbs insane
with hate. Instantly, she gauged the distance, resigned with
bottomless sorrow when she realized Mikalah wouldn’t make it in
time. The dog-man was too close.

Anthony was quickly
backing up toward the makeshift bedding, trying to make room
between him and the Isig-Pjäs.

Andrew, Louis and Joaquin
were back-stepping toward the end of the cave.

Out of nowhere, Mugzy came
streaking from the other side of the chamber and smashed into the
last of the Hël-Hünds, gutting it from chest to groin with a single
tearing motion. He rolled away and sprung to his feet.

Still, the dog-man was too
far away.

It would have Anthony
within seconds.

She scowled her focus like
a laser upon the Isig-Pjäs. The cave went dark. She would burn this
bastard so bad, there wouldn’t even be ash left behind.

Wicked, red-hot fire
beamed from her chest in a continuous line re-directed, mashed
together, intensified a thousand-fold. It struck the dog-man in the
neck, just passed its’ ear.

Elena readied herself for
the impending explosion, half-turning from what would be a great
blast.

Nothing
happened.

The Isig-Pjäs kept coming
as if the girl hadn’t done a damn thing.

Over the din of battle,
she heard Joaquin yell and her heart broke. There was nothing she
could do.

“
They are immune to
fire!”

Somehow, her eyes found
her sister’s. They shared a plaintive look. That’s all there was
time for.

Mikalah
disappeared.

*****

Joaquin’s eyebrows rose of
their own accord when Mikalah simply vanished from sight. He
could
feel
her
Gift, so he knew she was still within the cave. It was raw
strength, power, velocity all wrapped into one. Though she was a
small girl, the amounts of each she wielded were monumentous. She
was like a controlled solar detonation, moving faster than his eyes
could follow.

At his side, Andrew
growled in anger and suddenly threw the piece of wood he’d been
holding for protection.

“
What the -?” was all
Joaquin was able to ask, the last word dying in his throat. It had
gone dry and constricted for some reason.

It was a ridiculous throw,
easily fifty feet, maybe more.
What the
fuck was he thinking?
wondered the larger
teen when the log cracked into the Isig-Pjäs’ knee of his only good
fore-leg.

Still trying to stride for
Anthony, the creature didn’t realize, when it continued with its’
stride, its’ leg had been knocked out from underneath it. It struck
the cave floor, yelping with surprise and outrage, skidding across
the uneven rock, turning slightly.

“
Holy! Shit!” exclaimed
Joaquin as the remaining Hël-Hünds tried frantically to maneuver
around the flailing dog-man.

It was all that was
needed.

Never having given up,
Mugzy leaped upon the back of one of the fell canines, his hands
grasping either side of its’ snout. With one vicious yank, he
pulled the beast’s head backward with all of his strength. Using
his feet as leverage, he broke the creature’s neck, bending it
completely back upon itself.

A split-second later,
Mikalah annihilated another, hitting it so hard on the thigh of
its’ right rear leg, the Hël-Hünd twisted at its’ flanks, the force
of the girls’ blow made the lower part of its’ body turn twice
before it fell to the ground. Its spine was twisted and broken from
back to rump.

The last Hël-Hünd stopped
near the Isig-Pjäs, uncertain, surrounded on all sides.

Growling and grimacing in
pain, the dog-man came to its’ feet slowly, in a series of jerking
motions. Its’ eyes never left Anthony’s.

“
You will not win this
war, Kring-Hël,” it said with a raspy voice, seething with hatred.
“My death means nothing.”

Though some of the others
gasped in shock, hearing the foul creature speak. Joaquin had
expected it. Isig-Pjäs were highly intelligent.

Anthony had regained his
composure, staring back at the ruined dog-man. “It will mean
something to me,” he replied.

The Hël-Hünd cowered
behind the slightly larger dog-man, whimpering as the Fist
approached. Even the smallest of them towered over the two minions
of Storm. Quietly, smoothly, Mugzy put Mikalah behind
him.

The Isig-Pjäs sniggered.
“The Vanguard will surely catch you, prattling. And if they fail,
then another faction most definitely will.” It giggled with joy.
“You have no idea what the Great Maelstrom will bring to bear upon
this sorry, mixed-up world.” It chuckled, glaring at Anthony.
“Millions, Kring-Hël. Do you hear me? Millions upon millions upon
millions are coming. They will flow like an ocean. There will be no
stopping the armies of Storm.”

“
How many in the
Vanguard?” asked Joaquin, though he wasn’t quite sure why he had in
the first place.

The dog-man craned his
neck to peer at the large teen. “The Host of the Hand is but a drop
in the lake. True, they are powerful, some of our best, but
not
the
most
powerful and surely not our best. Their mere thousands are only a
small group of highly trained warriors and wielders of Vyche and
Flesh.”

Vyche – the magic of
Storm
, came the words that weren’t
his.
Flesh – the command over muscle and
bone, given onto the Prēosts.

“
Who is coming next and
when?”

“
Everyone!”
shouted the Isig-Pjäs,
cackling madly thereafter.

“
Who!?!” asked Joaquin
more forcefully.

“
EVERYOOOOOOONE!!!

Anthony snorted. “Get rid
of this sack of shit,” he commanded and the Fist
attacked.

It didn’t take long. The
minions of storm stood no chance.

The moment the Fist was
done with its’ gruesome task, the cave went dark again… for longer
than any time in the past hour.

All about the cave bolts
of fiery lightning struck the corpses of the evil creatures that
had invaded their sanctuary and the remaining slugs as well. In the
span of a heartbeat, there nothing but ash left behind.

“
I am sick of them!”
shouted Elena with a stomp of her foot.

Without warning, Louis
said loudly, “Hey, where’s Sophie?”

Joaquin turned to look at
the stocky boy, his eyes wild with fright. “Oh my god! I forgot! A
Crawling Creep took Sophie! It’ll eat her as soon as it feel safe!”
His shriek was frantic as tears forming in his eyes, his jaw
clenched with anguish.

The snow was still piled
high within the twisting passage leading to the outside world, but
over the course of the past few days, they had periodically gone
beyond the furniture pad bringing in fresh snow with them. They had
melted it to use for drinking water or for bathing. This cumulative
gathering made the drifted snow angle slightly, away from the cave
entrance. By that morning, the sun was able to shine within the
cave, the wind had room enough to play about Joaquin’s
hair.

“
Not on my watch!” roared
Garfield. Faster than Joaquin could blink, he was gone.

So was Mikalah. She
literally vaulted over the rocks, at a speed none of them could
match.

“
You leave my Sophie
alone!” was her tiny voice sounding upon the wind…

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HERE ENDS

THE UNWANTED
WINTER

VOLUME ONE

OF

THE SAGE OF THE
TWELVES

The Story of the Twelve
Continues

In

VOLUME TWO

WINTER’S FURY

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