Classification 470 (Personnel Records)
Vantana, Vance
Activation Date: ********
By the time Vance Vantana was ten years old, he had become one of the best trackers in Blount County, Tennessee. His father had started schooling him early, taking him into the Great Smoky Mountains when he was just five. The two spent three weeks in the woods, hunting and fishing and surviving in the wilderness. It was on this trip, and the many others that followed, that Vance’s father taught his son not only how to live in nature but how to understand it.
No doubt influenced by their Cherokee heritage, the Vantana family were strong believers in the power of animal omens—according to them, the animal world was constantly communicating with humans, but it was up to humanity to decipher their language. It was a language of symbol and totem. If you could read the signs, you just might avoid danger.
Vance hadn’t been reading those signs that night in Bakersfield; he had been too caught up in the excitement. And now he was paying the price. He had just witnessed his charge, a boy named Sam London, getting plucked out of his car by a gargoyle. It wasn’t long before Vance lost sight of Sam; luckily, he didn’t lose the scent. The gargoyle’s scent, that is, not Sam’s. Upon meeting Sam for the first time, Vance noticed he wasn’t able to pick up the boy’s smell. This was a strange phenomenon that Vance had yet to encounter when dealing with an animal, human or otherwise. Every creature smelled a certain way, except this boy. But he would have to get to the bottom of this oddity later; Sam was in mortal danger, and Vance was his only hope. He threw the SUV into four-wheel drive and pulled the car off the highway and onto the desert floor. He could only pray he would find the boy in time.
Sam watched the SUV grow smaller as the gargoyle flew farther away. The rest of the “flock” was now following. The creatures remained low and soared silently over the desert landscape. As they continued on their path, Sam spotted a small town and scattered neighborhoods. He couldn’t see Vance’s SUV anymore, and he wondered if he would see anyone ever again. What did these creatures have in store for him? Sam’s heart was racing, thumping so hard he could feel it in the tips of his fingers. His tears had dissipated, replaced with sheer terror. It was a fear of the unknown, a dread that he could be facing his end. He thought of his mother and what he had put her through these last twenty-four hours. If anything happened to him, would Nuks continue the ruse? He hoped for his mother’s sake the creature would take his place, but that didn’t seem very likely. At some point he would return to his normal form and Ettie would know the truth. Sam’s seemingly innocuous dream had led him to a reality he would have never imagined possible. In that moment, he wished he had just left the gryphon well enough alone.
Angry with himself, Sam squirmed in the gargoyle’s grip. The creature’s claws were digging into his shoulders. He could feel the skin breaking, and knew he must be bleeding. He shifted again to help avoid the pain, but he must have shifted too much. The gargoyle lost its hold on Sam. He was now in a free fall—heading perilously toward the waiting earth.
Sam fell fast, but he didn’t fall far. His death cry, which he let loose as soon as he realized he was no longer in the gargoyle’s grip, was short-lived but impressive. When he hit the ground, he thought, Wow, death isn’t all that painful. It kinda feels like jumping into a pool. He quickly concluded that he had fallen into a pool. He took in a mouthful of water, and the chlorine instantly stung his eyes. But he was alive. He pushed off the bottom and sprang to the surface, popping out like a piece of toast. He was immediately struck by the flash of lights and an abundance of noise. Talking. Conversations. He was disoriented and swam to the edge. A moment later he was being lifted out of the water by a man in a suit. But this was no ordinary man.
“Who are you?” the man asked with a menacing growl. Sam couldn’t answer; he was too stunned by the man’s appearance. He was about the same size, physically, as a man, even spoke like a man, but he had the head and body of a dog. His skin was covered in short, dark fur. His face was utterly canine—a long muzzle with a moist nose and pointed ears. He looked like an upright German shepherd. And he didn’t seem particularly thrilled with his surprise guest. He snarled at Sam, as did the other dog-people gathered there. Sam could discern seven or eight of them in total—both males and females.
“Answer me, boy,” the dog-man said more forcefully. The creature spoke with a British accent and had streaks of gray in his fur, leading Sam to conclude he must be older.
All Sam could muster was a very uncouth “You’re a dog.”
The growls and snarls suddenly stopped. The others gasped at the utterance and awaited their friend’s response. The dog-man eyed Sam for what seemed like an eternity and breathed his warm, wet breath against Sam’s face. And then the dog-man began to chuckle, softly at first, but it soon transformed into a laugh. A big laugh. As though Sam had told the funniest joke ever. The others took that as their cue and also began laughing. Amid the laughter—
“Very perceptive. You look worried. Are you a cat in disguise?” the dog-man asked. That spurred more laughs, and then one of the others spoke up.
“Maybe we should eat him and find out.”
The dog-man responded, “Yes, Chad, I believe you’re quite right. It has been a long time since we’ve feasted on cat. Though I remember it tasting like chicken…”
Sam panicked and screamed for help at the top of his lungs. “Somebody! Help! Please!”
“Shhhh,” the dog-man silenced him. “This is a quiet neighborhood.”
“Sam!” a male voice yelled from the night. The dog-people looked toward the sound’s origin and found Vance Vantana hurriedly entering through a gate at the side of the pool’s deck. He rushed toward Sam, but the dog-people growled and moved to intercept. The dog-man waved his hand and the others instantly stopped.
“Vance? Vance Vantana? Is that you, old friend?” the dog-man asked.
“Chase?” Vance replied, much to Sam’s surprise. “What the heck are you doin’ so far from ol’ Blighty?”
“This is home now. Well, one of them, anyway. I thought you knew I had retired,” the dog-man, apparently named Chase, answered.
“I heard about that. Just didn’t expect you to retire here,” said Vance. “In the middle of nowheresville.”
“The dry air is good for my lungs, and you get a lot for your coin. I assume you’re here for this tiny human?” Chase offered Sam, whom he still held suspended a few feet off the ground.
“Yep. Sorry ’bout that. I’ll take him off your paws.” Chase handed Sam to Vance like a rag doll and Vance quickly placed him back on solid ground. “Are you okay?” he asked Sam in a genuinely sympathetic tone. Sam nodded.
“Thank God I landed in that pool,” he said.
“Would you care to tell me what in heavens is going on?” Chase inquired.
“Sam and I—we were being attacked by a pack of gargoyles, and one of the little monsters managed to get their claws on him.”
“Gargoyles?”
“It’s a long, long story,” Vance said without going into detail.
“Well, I suppose it’s just blind luck, then, that you landed in my pool,” Chase said to Sam, who nodded in return. “Or was it the gryphon’s luck?”
Sam’s eyes immediately shifted to Vance, who simply grinned at the mention.
“Word travels faster than a Tennessee squirrel in a snake pit,” Vance quipped.
“After all these years, when someone sees ‘him,’ it’s awfully big news,” Chase explained. “Does he”—he nodded at Sam—“have the sight or—”
Vance shook his head.
“What did you give him?” Chase asked curiously.
“Magnapedaxin thirteen.”
“Let’s hope it’s more stable than twelve,” Chase responded with a smirk. Sam looked at Vance, concerned.
“What’s he talking about?”
“I’ll explain later,” Vance whispered. He shifted his attention back to Chase. “I reckon it is. It’s runnin’ through these veins as we speak.”
“Always Penelope’s guinea pig.”
“She needs someone to test this stuff on. And I’ve got a heckuva good nose, but without that enhancement, I sure as God made little green apples wouldn’t have picked up the scent of those gargoyles so far out. Bought us some time, for certain. I take it they didn’t return?”
Chase shook his head. “I imagine they saw my guests and decided it wouldn’t be wise to crash this party. Cynocephali and gargoyles—we were never very chummy. Though I’m a touch disappointed they didn’t descend on us. I miss the action, Vance. There was never a dull moment,” he said with a nostalgic smile. He looked directly at Sam. “I am, however, happy you dropped in, quite literally, on our little garden soiree. Perhaps you could help me quell a burning curiosity? I wonder, what did Phylassos say to you?”
“I already tried. This one is still a bit slow to trust,” Vance said.
“Smart boy. Well, I am at your disposal, Dr. Vantana and Mr. Sam…?”
“London,” Sam offered.
“My favorite city,” Chase remarked. “I am more than ready to come out of retirement, if required, particularly now. It sounds as though there are very exciting developments on the horizon for us all.”
“I hope you’re wrong about that,” Vance said pensively. “Well, we best get to leaving and let you all enjoy your party. Apologies for the interruption.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” said Chase.
“Excuse me?” Vance responded.
“It’s much too late. Mr. London here is soaked to the bone and has been through quite a scare. You’ll stay here tonight and enjoy my legendary hospitality. You can continue on your way in the morning.”
Chase offered Sam his paw. “Let’s see if we can’t find you something dry to wear.”
Sam looked to Vance for approval. The doctor considered for a long moment, then finally nodded. Sam smiled. He liked the sound of getting out of his wet clothes and getting some sleep.
The answers to all Sam’s questions came later that evening as he sat at Chase’s dining room table and nursed a hot chocolate. He had to admit, for a dog-man, Chase made a mean cup of cocoa. Sam reminded himself that he had to stop referring to Chase as a “dog-man.” According to Vance, Chase was part of an ancient and proud race of mythical creatures known as the cynocephali. They were believed to have originated in Southern Asia before migrating to Greece sometime during the fifth century BC. Sam had come across the cynocephali in one of Knox’s books. Given their canine appearance, they were initially considered savages by the humans who encountered them. Although their race had aggressive tendencies, there were those who aspired to be accepted into civil society. Sam wanted to learn more about Chase and his mysterious brethren, but that would have to wait. It was time to just get the basics squared away.
As the dryer spun the excess water from Sam’s clothes, he settled into the dining room chair, snug in one of Chase’s plush robes, and listened to Vantana and Chase describe a world he never knew or could ever have imagined existed.
“I work for the Department of Mythical Wildlife,” Vantana explained. “We’re sort of like the Department of the Interior’s invisible cousin, the one who’s in hidin’ and no one ever talks about.”
“And I work, or rather worked, for the Agency for the Welfare of Mythical Beasts,” added Chase. “We’re the British counterpart to the Americans.”
“You said mythical, right?” Sam clarified.
“Yep. That’s right. We manage the relationship between mythical creatures and humanity,” revealed Vantana.
“But—”
“I assume you’ve always believed that such creatures do not exist,” Chase concluded. “And yet here I am, right in front of you. And you’ve already seen a gryphon and a few gargoyles.”
Sam nodded.
“They are all around us, Sam. They always have been,” Vantana explained.
“But no one else can see them?” asked Sam.
“Humans can’t see them,” Chase replied. “At least, not all humans. You can now because Dr. Vantana gave you something.”
“That injection. In the car,” Sam responded. Vance nodded. “You called it mag…” Sam tried to remember the name he had heard earlier.
“Magnapedaxin thirteen,” Vantana interjected. “It’s a serum that was synthesized from the blood of—”
“Blood? From what?” Sam interrupted, completely unnerved at the thought that blood other than his own was now pulsing through his veins.
“I believe the animal is referred to as a Sasquatch,” Chase answered matter-of-factly. “Isn’t that right, Vance?”
“We call them bigfoot, or bigfoots, I suppose.”
“Bigfoot? You shot me up with bigfoot blood?” Sam said, exasperated.
“Calm down, kid. It’s not gonna kill ya. It’s the only way humans can see these creatures.”
“By injecting them with bigfoot blood?”
“By injecting them with a serum synthesized from the blood of mythical creatures,” Vance corrected him. Sam was understandably overwhelmed, not only by recent events, but by the implications of what Vance and Chase were describing. And to top it all off, his heart was now pumping with the blood of a bigfoot, the legendary apelike creature of the American Northwest. It was named after the large footprints discovered by California road workers in 1958. Though mainstream science dismissed the idea that such a creature existed, Sam had been an ardent believer in bigfoot and currently had the proof right inside him. Of course, it wasn’t likely anyone would believe him; he still wasn’t sure he believed it himself. None of this made any sense. How could these creatures be living among humans and not be detected? Why did it require their blood to see them? Sam remembered something Vance mentioned in the car, before the gargoyles attacked.
“You said that humanity was being punished and that’s why we can’t see them.”
“That’s right.”
“Punished for what?” Sam asked.
Chase and Vance exchanged a look. Chase smirked. “You want me to take this, old boy?”
“Be my guest,” Vance said.
“Have you ever heard of Alexander the Great?” Chase asked.
“He was a general from a long time ago, right?”
“Something like that.”
Sam sat quietly as Chase and Vantana took turns telling him a story that sounded like it belonged in the pages of a fantasy novel. They explained that in the third century BC, Alexander the Great became king of Macedon, a territory in northern Greece. A brilliant military commander, Alexander led his forces across Persia, conquering all in his wake. As his power grew, so did his arrogance. He became so imperious he thought himself a god. To prove he had no rival, Alexander ordered his men to catch two gryphons. He had the creatures tied to a chariot and forced them to fly him toward the sun. Alexander wished to stare into the face of God. But when he reached the very edge of the sky, he saw nothing. When he returned to earth on the backs of the crippled, dying gryphons, he was confronted by an old man who he believed to be his creator. Alexander offered him gifts and welcomed him into his kingdom. But the old man revealed himself to be Phylassos, the king of all gryphons and protector of magical creatures.
“He could change his shape?” inquired Sam at this point in the story, intrigued.
Vance nodded. “So the yarn has been spun.”
Chase continued the tale. “Phylassos was furious with Alexander. For centuries, humanity and magical creatures had lived in peace. But this moment had illustrated the danger humans posed to creatures like these. Humanity’s hubris would only grow more profound, and that meant animals like gryphons and the others would never be safe. Humans would find ways to exploit them and use them to serve their contemptible ways. And so Phylassos cursed humanity: from thence forward, humans would remain blind to the magical beasts surrounding them. Creatures of all shapes and sizes were given a choice: they could follow Phylassos’s order or take on a more agreeable form.”
“ ‘Agreeable’?”
“You now see me as my true self, Sam, but others see me as human,” Chase explained with a modicum of disappointment. “It is our lot in life to never be seen as who we really are.”
“That’s a bummer,” replied Sam.
“I appreciate the sentiment,” Chase offered. “We are not the only species who must hide in this manner. Trolls and others appear as human to those without the sight.”
“And so that’s how it has been? Ever since Alexander the Great?” Sam asked.
The two men nodded.
Chase added, “Over time there has been a select group of individuals whom Phylassos has trusted to help ensure this wall of perception is never broken. Dr. Vantana and I are not the first in our positions.”
“So just because humans can’t see these creatures doesn’t mean that the creatures can’t—”
“See them. Or interfere with them.” Vance completed Sam’s thought. Sam nodded and yawned. “I think it’s time you went to bed,” Vantana concluded.
“He does appear tuckered out,” Chase observed.
Sam had more questions, but Vance was right. He could feel his eyes growing heavier by the moment. After all, he had been awake for well over twenty-four hours, having foregone sleep the night before to plan his desert excursion. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stay attentive, and Sam didn’t want to miss a thing.
Vance tucked him into the bed in Chase’s guest room. The doctor was very gentle when he wished to be, Sam noted. It was the first time he could remember ever being tucked in by someone other than his mother. Sam couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it would feel like to have a father. Vance was strong and confident and caring. He’d be perfect for Ettie, Sam thought. But trying to make a love connection between those two would require an awful lot of explanation. It exhausted Sam just thinking about it. As Vance walked to the doorway and switched off the light, Sam managed one more question.
“Dr. Vantana—where are we going tomorrow?” he asked through the darkness.
“It’s Vance, Sam. And I’ve got a lot of questions for you, about Phylassos,” he replied as he stood silhouetted in the entry. “I need to find the answers. It’ll be the best way to keep you safe. Get you back home with your mother.”
“Who has the answers?” Sam asked.
“Carl,” Vance said assuredly. “Carl can help.”