I growled in my chest and the air around me flickered with light as I poured my will against that shadow, increasing my pace to race at Cerberus’ right side. This working of My Shadow was meant to harm My Friend, and the very thought had my fur expanding as azure light rippled and sparkled from it. My outrage pushed the light out from my fur into the air around us, expanding to shield Cerberus, enveloping the legendary dog in flickering spectral blue light.
“There!” Cerberus growled. “I have the trail! Well done!”
I barked, sending waves of unseen energy of light flowing like a river out ahead of us, to help make sure no poor humans would suffer a collision with a determined hellhound—and the two of us broke into a tireless—well, mostly tireless—run.
We raced out of the city to the west, passing through neighborhood and park and shopping center in the darkness. More of my will spilled out to bend chance in our favor, so that we passed through the shadows of momentarily flickering streetlights, or between cars so that their lights never shone on us. We passed from city to suburb to ex-urb, racing at a pace far faster than most…well, cars.
The hellhound ran in a straight line. He leapt metal fences and leaned a bit to one side to streak around houses—wooden fences and outbuildings he simply ignored, and we left a trail of holes the size of a small car in those.
“The trail grows fresh,” Cerberus told me, and I could readily follow it myself now. Mister had passed this way less than five minutes before. We drew to a halt at the edge of a housing development that was full of bare earth and skeletal wooden frames. Beyond it were rolling fields with occasional groves of trees, where Illinois farmland and rural properties began.
We were out of the city.
“That farm,” Cerberus growled. “The Lion is there.”
I lifted my nose to the wind and said, “I smell blood.”
“Cow,” Cerberus confirmed. “The Lion needs to kill. It must have been forced to refrain from killing mortals until it could regain some of its strength from other sources.”
In the night, something screamed. Perhaps it was a cow.
I shivered. “What now?”
Cerberus was silent for several seconds before he said, cautiously, “Let us sniff them out first.”
Them? Ah, of course. If the Nemean Lion had been assisted in its escape from the outside of Hades, it would be foolish to assume it was alone. A cautious approach seemed most wise.
We ghosted forward, crouched low, noses and ears alert. The farm was a small one, a square divided into quarters. Two were fields, one was pasture, and one held the farmhouse and outbuildings. A winding stream, lined with trees offered the only cover, and so we used it to approach. The wind was in our noses, giving us a good picture of what was ahead, and we crept to within a few seconds’ worth of sprinting of the farmhouse and its buildings.
We crouched in the cover of the trees and brush supported by the stream, and I watched as a streak of motion flitted across the pasture and slammed into a third cow. The cow made a screaming sound of pain and staggered, and I was just as glad that I could not see clearly what was happening to the poor beast. It thrashed and kicked and moaned and then slowly went still as the life bled out of it.
After that, a shadow blurred toward the chicken coop next to the farmhouse. Birds screamed, though their sounds ended with little splatting noises—and something very large, with a very big chest, let out a coughing sound that stirred the grass in a wave rolling out from the farmhouse.
“We must hurry,” Cerberus said. “The Lion is remembering how to move in the mortal world again.”
I inhaled deeply and said, “There are children in the farmhouse.”
Cerberus gave me a sharp look. Then he leaned forward, and I could hear the snuffles of his extra noses. “Ah,” he said. “So there are. You have a very good nose for that.”
“Children matter,” I said.
And that was when we finally saw the Nemean Lion.
It was in the form of Mister the cat. Mister was a very large tom cat (but still much smaller than me), with short grey fur and a bobbed tail and with one ear notched from fighting. But at the same time, he was very much not Mister. The moon cast a shadow of the cat that was far too large and far too lumpy and far too dark, and the darkness around him seemed to have a shape of its own—like something that was massive but trapped one dimension over.
“The more blood it spills,” Cerberus noted, “the more the Lion will have access to the mortal realm.” The hellhound leaned forward, preparing to move.
“Wait,” I said. “Watch.”
Cerberus glanced at me but waited.
And the door to the farmhouse opened.
A human figure stood in the doorway, covered in a heavy black robe with a heavy black hood. It faced the Lion, holding up a gloved hand in a salute.
And a moment later, My Shadow appeared beside the hooded figure. My Shadow was a temple dog like me, only he wasn’t all plump and snuggly. He was lean and strong-looking and there was something about the way he moved that spoke of a hunger he could never fulfill. Dark energy radiated from him.
My Shadow leaned against the robed figure and let out a low growl.
“Oh,” I said with quiet dread. “I think that is Cowl.”
“What is a Cowl?” Cerberus asked.
“One of My Friend’s foes,” I said.
“A mortal wizard?” Cerberus asked.
“Yes.”
“That is bad,” the hellhound said. “This world is not mine. If his will is strong enough, he could trap or banish me.”
I flicked my ears thoughtfully. “We must overcome them,” I said. “Distract the Lion somehow. I will push him out of Mister.”
Cerberus grunted. “Or I could kill the cat and the same thing will happen.”
“We will not do that,” I said. “I must save Mister for My Friend.”
“It is but a cat,” Cerberus said.
“I will be a Good Dog and save him,” I said.
“For me to be a Good Dog, I must send the Lion back to my master,” Cerberus said. “I am a very Good Dog. He always says that.”
My Shadow took a couple of steps forward and stared directly toward me.
I held my breath.
“What is it?”
I looked at Cerberus. “He knows someone is out here. He can feel me thwarting his will.”
My Shadow sniffed the air, but the wind wasn’t with him. He took a few restless paces while Cowl faced the Lion.
“You are freed from eternal punishment thanks to me,” Cowl said, his voice resonant and rough.
The Lion paced back and forth, tearing at the earth with its claws casually. Mister’s little paws tore furrows in the earth a foot across. It let out a coughing sound and another growl.
“Because if I permitted you to take mortal lives, you’d have attracted immediate attention,” Cowl said, his voice annoyed. “There are at least four wielders of Power in Chicago who might have banished you. Continue questioning me and I will do so myself.”
The Lion growled and raked at the earth with its back claws. It threw up shovelfuls of dirt as it did.
“I have mortals for you, obviously,” Cowl said calmly. “You missed the pigs. Feed. We will discuss the plan when you have done so.”
The Nemean Lion let out a snarling sound, turned, and streaked away toward another outbuilding.
This time the screams were truly hideous, piteous, high pitched and terrible.
Cowl turned and vanished into the farmhouse. After a moment, My Shadow went with him, if reluctantly, looking back over his shoulder with his hackles erect.
“Cowl is going to bring out the children,” I said. “We must protect them.”
“That is not how I am a Good Dog,” Cerberus said.
“But it is how I am a Good Dog,” I told him.