Chapter 8

 

It was going to be difficult for David to take sword-fighting lessons from Gullin, who would probably delight in walloping him for a few rounds before actually teaching him anything. It wasn’t made any easier by the fact that Baba and Tanuki had decided to watch. The witch and the disguised badger eyed each other warily, but both were far more interested in the pending practice duel.

David prayed that what knowledge he already had of swordplay would prove to Gullin that he was more than capable of defending himself. The smirk on Gullin’s face, however, hinted that the Scotsman was intending to have a bit of fun with him.

“So, you know some techniques, you say,” Gullin said. “Mind tellin’ me what you know?”

“I’ve been taught basic fencing, and I’ve had a few lessons in—”

Before David could continue, Gullin thrust his sword forwards and knocked the blade out of David’s hand. David jumped away, readying his fists, even though Gullin’s sword was pointing at his face.

“Apparently no one taught you to always be on your guard,” Gullin remarked.

“You didn’t say you were starting,” David countered.

“Do you think Fenrir is going to give you a warning? Do you think he abides by fair fighting rules? He’ll snap your head off before you have time to cry Mum. So keep your sword up, and focus.”

David retrieved his sword from the ground and prepared himself.

Gullin withdrew a dagger from his belt, so he had a blade in each hand. “Since you have both sword and dagger, it would do you well to learn how to use them together. The dagger can be your defense while striking with your sword, and it is also light so you can make quick damage with it if you need to use your sword to block.”

David took out his dagger, feeling the weight of each of his weapons in his hands. “I haven’t practiced with two weapons before. Will it take long to learn?”

“Oh, many years, boyo. But we’ll have to make do, won’t we?” Gullin grinned. “Now, a wolf has its eyes in the front of its face, so it doesn’t have much peripheral vision. And it has a big muzzle, so it’ll have a hard time seeing an attack coming from below if you’re in close.”

Not that I want to be in close, David thought.

“Your best bet is to distract it with an attack coming straight forward with one hand, and then sweeping in beneath with the other, into the chin or the throat,” Gullin said. “Take a swing at me.”

“How? From the side, or overhead and straight down—”

“For God’s sake, just attack me!”

David thrusted straight on at Gullin, who easily blocked his sword with his dagger and then swept his sword blade towards David’s legs. He stopped less than an inch from David’s knee. “Now you try it,” Gullin said.

As David and Gullin sparred, Baba and Tanuki watched on. Tanuki coughed as Baba smoked her pipe, its gray wisps spiraling around her head.

“Men, and their fancy knives,” Baba muttered. “They think such tactics will stop Wolf? Peh. Might as well dig through a mountain with sewing needle.”

Tanuki scratched his nose. “Mr. Gullin and David have a chance. They’ve fought big monsters before…” He stopped himself, glancing away from Baba.

“Ah, so you have met the boy before, eh? Perhaps you looked different then, much smaller, much hairier?” Baba puffed again on her pipe.

“I know you know what I am,” Tanuki said. “And I know what you are, too. And if your magic was truly great, you could enchant David’s sword and dagger to be powerful enough to defeat this wolf you are all talking about.”

Baba chortled. “Fact is, Badger, there already lies a power in those weapons that David does not know about. A power that even my magic could not affect. He has to figure out how to make that power work…and not work against him.”

Tanuki’s eyes widened. “What power? David would feel better to know that his sword and dagger have special—”

“No good to tell him. Then he will either be too confident, thinking his weapons can do all the work, or he will obsess about trying to bring the power out. He will learn of this power in his own time. For now, he must focus on the task at hand.”

Tanuki frowned. “I don’t like keeping secrets from David-san. I am his spirit guide. I’m supposed to help guide him, not keep him in the dark.”

Baba nearly choked on her smoke, as she coughed forth a dry laugh. “Spirit guide? You, little Badger? Then the boy is in real trouble.”

“You don’t know everything, even if you are old,” Tanuki groused. “And my name is not Badger. It’s Tanuki.”

Baba shrugged. “Call yourself whatever you want. Doesn’t change what you really are.”

“Fine. I’m a badger. And you’re a grumpy old lady who smells like burnt hair, and cats, and onions, and…” Tanuki’s glower softened. “And loneliness.”

Baba raised an eyebrow at him. “Better to be alone than have annoying company like you.”

But Tanuki noticed that the smoke wisps around her head took the shape of birds, and they all flew away in various directions, except for one. The one smoke-wisp bird shivered, as if cold, and then dissipated into nothing.

David was black and blue after his training with Gullin. He was also starving, and he was thankful when Beatrice called them all in for dinner. He felt better, though, feeling he could learn the new techniques well enough to defend himself against whatever creature might be out searching for him, or Acacia.

Before they sat down to eat, Gullin led David to their guest room to clean up in a wash basin. Beatrice brought David some ointment for his bruises, although Gullin said that David would have to start “toughening up” to the pain. But Gullin was not about to argue with his wife, who shot him a death stare and replied, “David is a guest. We do our best to make out guests comfortable, even if the two of you are roughin’ up each other like dogs over the same piece of meat.”

After Beatrice left the room, David turned to Gullin. “You said you had an idea of how we can find or communicate with Acacia. I thought about calling out to her in my dreams, but I think something could have happened to Hypnos, and without him…”

“Don’t get flustered, boyo,” Gullin said. “We’ll find her, or she’ll find us. Sphinxes have a way of knowing, you know?”

“Knowing what?”

Gullin walked out of the room and did not say another word about it all through dinner.

That night, David dreamt, yet was not dreaming. He had a sense that he was in a dream, for he certainly could not be awake—he was not in Gullin’s house, or anywhere, for that matter. It was blank, empty space, although he could feel a pulsation around him. There were heartbeats, muffled whispers, and a twisting, gnarling sensation as if his spirit were being wrung out like a wet towel. It was not painful, but it gave the impression of being on the teetering edge of a nightmare, and something was waiting nearby to push him over into terror.

Then the word came to him, the word that described how he felt—trapped.

He tried to call out for Hypnos, but as was usual in the dream realm, he lacked a physical voice. He tried to think of Hypnos’ name, but even his mind was too hazy to do so. His brain felt like buttery mush.

Then there was something near him, and he felt what he could only interpret as a chill, or a burn…something not right.

Do you want to know a perk of being dead, David?

It was a voice, but not a voice. Yet its familiarity sent screams of panic throughout David’s being.

It means I can do things I couldn’t do when I was alive. Well, alive as I once was. For instance, I can detach my soul from my body, and each entity can be perfectly fine. And my soul can skip about in this realm as much as I please.

David wanted to run, but there was nowhere to run to. He desperately commanded his body to wake up.

No, no, no, you’ll wake up when I say so. And you will, this time. You’re more useful to me in the waking world. But your usefulness will run out. I suggest by then, you remain awake as long as you can.

David could not see it, but the image of a long, twisted smile full of sharp teeth flickered in his thoughts.

As for my body, well…it’s seen better days. Still functional, even if not as illustrious. But I don’t blame you or my cousin for the current state of my body. What I do blame you for is destroying my life. It’s only fair that I return the favor.

A surge of anger permeated David’s consciousness. That anger spoke for David, asking the awful essence to stop taunting him and be done with whatever horrible thing it planned to do.

No, not yet. Like I said, you still hold some use to me. Besides, I want you alive long enough to witness me at my finest hour, when I finally get the justice I seek. And I want you to see your beloved sphinx bleeding to death at my feet.

“LEAVE ACACIA ALONE!”

David was sitting bolt upright in his bed. Sweat drenched his body, and his muscles ached all over. He tried to regain his breath, but he was so shaken that tears began to form in the corners of his eyes.

He tried to steady himself, realizing his scream might have awoken someone in the house. When he turned his gaze towards the door, he jumped to see Baba already sitting in a chair next to the door, staring at him.

“Nightmare, boy?” Baba asked. “Believe me, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

As much as David was in no mood to continue his fighting lessons the next day, Gullin made him get up before dawn peeked over the horizon. Since David had not gone back to sleep after his nightmare—not that he wanted to, even if he could—he figured it was just as well to get up and keep his mind and body busy. He guzzled down his breakfast of porridge with the expectation to start back into the lessons right away, but Gullin passed him a wooden bucket instead.

“Even with wolves around, there are still chores to do,” Gullin said. “You help me get them done, the sooner we get back to lessons. Go help Ru in the stables. You can fill the horse’s food and water and clean out his stall.”

David went to find Tanuki, who slept in his own secluded room next to the kitchen. He was sleeping on a thin straw mat with a few blankets, and even as a human, Tanuki had dug himself into the blankets and was curled up like a kitten, snoring. David hoped that the evil entity that plagued him last night was not bothering Tanuki, but Tanuki did not appear to be distressed.

I’ll give him a while longer to sleep, David thought. I can feed and water the horse without help.

David went outside with the bucket and filled it at the water pump. He could see across the field that Gullin was tending to the sheep, getting them ready to take out to pasture. David hoisted the full bucket and walked towards the stables, taking in the tranquil stillness of the morning. He hadn’t been on a farm in years, not since he used to visit family in the Spanish countryside when he was young, but the peacefulness of the country eased his troubled mind.

He went over to Gringolet’s stable, but the horse was missing.

David froze, scanning the stall as if Gringolet could be possibly hiding somewhere. Also, there was no door on the stall anymore. It had been torn clean off of its hinges. When he looked over towards the back of the stables, there was the door, with a massive bite mark in it, lying splintered and broken on the ground.

Right by the feet of the most terrifying animal David had ever seen.

David dropped the bucket, the water spilling all over and soaking his boots. His eyes were locked with the animal’s, paralyzing him. The animal was so large, it had to lower its head to fit within the stable, and even then, its shoulder blades were touching the ceiling. There was no doubt in his mind, from the night-black fur, to the cold ravenous eyes, to the saw-toothed maw, everything that had been depicted in the drawing within the Poetic Edda, who this creature was.

“The horse was filling enough,” the wolf growled. “But there is always room for more. Come here, little meat-ling.”

David had to use every ounce of willpower in his body to keep from running. If he ran, the wolf would follow and would go straight to the field where Gullin and the sheep were, or worse, straight to the house where Beatrice, Ian, Baba and Tanuki were. David had to warn them, but he could not think how.

“You have no scent,” the wolf continued. “Not even your thoughts. You have been enchanted, or cursed. What are you hiding from me?”

David gulped. He took a deep breath, and his words crept out from his mouth as timid mice. “Y…you are Fenrir, the one who eats the world.”

Fenrir’s tongue rolled out and he licked it across his lips. David noticed that the wolf was missing one of his fangs, exposing an empty notch in his gums. “I smell the scent of one of the Old Ones, the one I did not consume in the Ageless Ocean. She is of magic, and she must be the one causing me this pain in my teeth. Where is she?”

David’s face blanched. He had assumed Baba had eaten the same stew he had to mask her scent as well. Why hadn’t she? Didn’t she know that Fenrir would have smelled her back at Geras’ house? Or had she only had enough magic to provide the scent-masking for one person?

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” David said.

Fenrir lowered his muzzle so close to David’s face that David nearly passed out from the wolf’s breath. “You cannot lie to me. You know who I am. She must have told you about me. Is she in the house? Or is this another trick—she has planted her smell here while she is somewhere else? Tell me, or I will shred you into pieces.”

David wished he had not left his sword and dagger beneath his mattress in his room. He had nothing to defend himself with, and the wolf would catch him before he could take a step to run. All he could think to do was stall for time. “You don’t seem as big as I remember you.”

The wolf narrowed his eyes. “We have met?”

“Not face to face, but the Fenrir I saw was much, much bigger. You can’t be him.”

The wolf leaned back, his head hanging wearily. “My size depends on my strength. I have been imprisoned for more lifetimes than you could count, so it takes much out of me to grow to my true size. Once I have reclaimed what was taken from me, I will have my full strength back and will be my true self again.”

“What are you looking for?”

Fenrir glared at David. “You are a kind soul, which makes others feel welcomed to confide in you. You would charm secrets from a corpse. Such men who are easy to talk to are dangerous.”

David shrugged. “You can’t possibly see me as a danger.”

Fenrir snarled. “There was an immortal like you, once. He, too, had a silver tongue, and I trusted him. He betrayed me. I no longer assume anyone is safe, no matter how small or weak.”

“But you swallowed Geras’ house. I saw your teeth through the walls. Someone who can do that, surely, wouldn’t be afraid of any mortal man.”

Fenrir was quiet, and then he nodded. “You were there with the Old Ones. Yes, there was the scent of a young one, the one whose thoughts I smelled. You were thinking about the sphinx…” Fenrir’s paw lashed out and came down on David, pinning him onto his back. “The sphinx! She is more important than the Old One. Where is she?”

David gasped, struggling beneath the giant paw. It was as if an iron slab was pressing down on him. “What do you want with her? If you’ve been imprisoned all this time, then there’s nothing she could have done to you to deserve your anger.”

“She has what belongs to me!” One of Fenrir’s claws scratched against David’s collarbone, not quite breaking the skin but leaving a painful red line in his flesh. “I was immediately drawn to the scent of your thoughts because they reeked of how much you care for her. Does she care for you as much? If I tear off pieces of you and scatter them to every corner of the earth, will that bring her to me?”

“No, that will bring ME to you!” erupted a thundering voice from the other side of the stable. There was an ear-chattering explosion, and David watched as something blasted right into Fenrir’s eye. Fenrir reeled back with a howl, removing his paw from David and slamming against the stable wall. The ceiling shook, threatening to fall through from the impact of Fenrir’s weight.

“Run!” Gullin came running from the stable entrance, holding what appeared to be a repeating rifle in his hands. David scrambled to his feet, and Gullin grabbed him and pulled him along to escape.

“You had a gun this whole time?” David asked as they ran.

Gullin shook his head. “That’s barely going to stun him. If bullets and gunpowder could kill monsters like that, the Master Huntsmen would have been out of business centuries ago.” He shoved David towards the house. “Get your blades. I’ll lead him off towards the fields.”

“But, Beatrice and Ian—”

“They’re fine. Ru’s gathered everyone and he’s taking them to safety. Now go!”

David shook his head. “I’m not leaving you with—”

“I’ve got three more rounds in here. You better be back by the time I’m done firing them!”

David bolted towards the house while Gullin headed off towards the fields. As David crashed through the back door into the house, he looked over his shoulder to see Fenrir charging out of the stable, ripping through the wooden support beams and tearing up the ground with his claws. His teeth were bared, his ears pulled back, his eyes searching for his quarry.

Gullin fired another shot at Fenrir. It grazed the wolf’s shoulder, and the monster barreled down on Gullin, who took off running. David scrambled through the house to his room, reaching beneath the bed’s mattress and taking out his sword and dagger. He dashed back outside, to hear two more gunshots ring out in the morning air.

David pumped his legs with all his strength, flying across the ground towards the mass of black fur that was looming over Gullin. The Scotsman had dropped his rifle and drawn his sword from the scabbard on his belt. Fenrir bristled all over, enraged to be challenged by the tiny mortal.

“You’re the big bad wolf?” Gullin scoffed. “You seem more like a runt to me!”

Fenrir gnashed his teeth at Gullin, as the man’s sword slashed at the wolf in warning. “You stink of the blood of hundreds of my kindred,” Fenrir said. “But you are a lowly man.”

“That’s exactly what your two pups thought,” Gullin replied, “Apparently they were as big-headed as their father.”

Fenrir halted. Gullin’s face set into a hard, frozen grimace. The two stared at each other, as if speaking a silent language with their eyes alone.

Gullin broke the silence. “You haven’t been locked up so long, you don’t remember your own pups? What were their names again…Skröll and Hati, I think.”

“My sons…” Fenrir growled.

“Two less monsters in the world,” Gullin spat. “And I was more than honored to make it that way.”

Fenrir’s howl of fury was enough to crack the heavens. The Mouth of Hell itself would have closed shut and hightailed it had it seen Fenrir’s anger.

David panicked, imagining Gullin’s head being bitten off in one clean chomp. He waved his sword in the air over his head, shouting, “Over here! I’m the one you want, you oversized dog!”

The wolf paid him no heed. He lunged forwards, but Gullin ducked and rolled out of the way. Fenrir’s paw caught him in mid-roll and held him down, pressing Gullin into the earth. The beast lowered his maw, his teeth wrapping around and clutching Gullin’s head.

“Fenrir!” David banged his sword and dagger together as loudly as he could. “Face me!”

Fenrir cringed, his lips pulling back and his jaw locking. Fenrir lifted his head up and looked over at David, his ears perking forwards.

David’s breath caught in his throat. He had not believed that was going to work. He felt something sticky on his hand. Looking down, he saw that his dagger was bleeding. A reddish liquid dripped from the hilt onto his hand.

Fenrir sniffed the air, his eyes widening in anticipation. He flashed his teeth, and David could see the notch where Fenrir was missing a fang was oozing the same reddish liquid as the dagger. “You tricked me, Thief!”

David’s mind went blank as the wolf charged straight at him, mouth wide open, revealing the endless tunnel of his throat into which David was going to plunge down in mere moments. He held his weapons up in defense, but they were no more than toothpicks compared to the wolf’s mouthful of spears. His heart stopped beating as the bloody teeth prepared to snap down on him.

But they did not. There was the jarring sound of teeth colliding into teeth, but David was no longer anywhere near them. He was looking down on Fenrir from above, and the wolf had turned to look up at him. There was a shocked expression on the wolf’s face, as shocked as David was.

Had David suddenly gained the ability to fly? He heard the flapping of wings, but not from any he had miraculously grown. There was a firm grip around his waist, and a warm breath on his ear from behind. A gentle, soothing voice spoke to him.

“It’s all right, David,” Acacia said. “I’m here now.”