“Woof,” I said encouragingly, and wagged my tail. I probably looked silly covered in all that white powder.
The children just stared at me.
Oh.
They had been with My Shadow. And he looked like me. But he was not me. He was not all squishy and snuggly.
I went into the room and flopped down on my back to show them my tummy, wagged my tail and said, “Woof!”
The largest of the three, a boy, peered at me. “Different doggie,” he said quietly. “He’s fat. And he has a collar.”
“Woof!” I said again and wriggled around encouragingly. Then I got up and went to the broken door, turning in circles and wagging my tail. “Woof, woof!”
From outside, there were more crashing sounds, and Cerberus let out a shrieking bellow of pain and fury. The children heard the sounds and flinched back—and at the same time, I felt the power of the circle I had raised around the farmhouse fray and vanish. Cowl must have scuffed the magical circle and shattered it.
I went to them and began nudging the children with my nose, making encouraging chuffing sounds, wrapping them in layer after layer of bright energy, calling forth courage and banishing fear.
“I’m scared!” said one of the little girls.
The other just cried quietly.
The little boy made eye contact with me for a long second. Then he swallowed, and I felt the power far greater than his small body leap up in his heart as he looked at his baby sisters and said, “We have to get out of here.”
“Woof,” I said seriously, and bumped him gently to his feet.
“Come on,” he said firmly. “Hold hands. We’re going home.”
He got his sisters up, and made them hold hands, which is always a good thing for humans to do with each other when things are bad. Then he put a hand on my collar and grabbed on, and I walked them forward, my fur glittering with thousands of little blue sparks of bright energy.
I led the children out of the farmhouse, and into a battle of myth and legend.
Cerberus and the Nemean Lion were ripping and tearing at one another. They roared and bellowed and rolled, struggling to keep the upper hand, smashing their way through the little chicken building so that splinters flew everywhere.
Over to one side, Cowl the Bad Man was struggling. He snarled and lifted his good hand, and a bolt of purple lightning leapt across the farmyard with a crack of thunder. It struck Cerberus in one shoulder and tore supernaturally tough flesh from the great dog in gobbets.
Cerberus howled in agony, and as he did, My Shadow darted at him from behind, shadow power wrapped around him in a shroud, and My Shadow went for the legend-dog’s hamstring.
Cerberus went down, blood spraying, shadow spreading up his wounded leg, and the Lion landed atop him, raking and tearing with berserk abandon.
I led the children around the side of the house, and out of sight, toward the doors of a root cellar, set at an angle in a block of concrete. Bright power tilted the world so that the doors had not been locked, and I grabbed one of the handles and tugged it open.
“Down here!” the boy said. “Come on! We have to hide!”
He led his sisters down the stairs into the shelter, just as I heard Cowl scream, “Ash! Get the children!”
Lightning flashed and thunder cracked again. Cerberus screamed. The Lion roared in berserk triumph.
I nudged the doors to the shelter shut, and whirled, power shining from my shoulders and the fur around my neck, just as My Shadow came sprinting around the side of the farmhouse and came to a sliding stop facing me, all lean power, with his darkness rolling off him in waves, meeting my bright power in a cascade of little red and blue sparks like a battle line of fireflies meeting halfway between us.
“You,” he growled. His contempt was plain. “You have gotten even fatter.”
“You are mean,” I said back. “They are children. How can you help hurt children? That is not why we were born.”
“Simpleton,” sneered My Shadow. “Fat, foolish slave in a collar.”
“It lights up,” I snarled, “so cars can see me at night. Because My Friend cares about me.”
My Shadow bared his teeth and took a step toward me. The conflict between our energies grew brighter and more intense, and the grass blackened and curled away from the showers of sparks.
“Run away, brother,” My Shadow said, sneering. “The Underworlder’s slave is all but destroyed. You cannot withstand us.”
“They are children,” I growled, from deep in my chest. “I have feelings about that.”
“They are meat,” said My Shadow.
I showed him my teeth. “You,” I said quietly, “are a Bad Dog.”
The deadliest insult I knew hung in the air in perfect silence.
And My Shadow and his dark power shot forward to kill me.
We met in a shower of clashing energy, made manifest and visible, blue light and dark shadow smashing together along with our fangs, our claws, our bodies. My Shadow was a terrible opponent. Our power was close to equal, the raw source energy of darkness and light from which all terror and hope, all fury and devotion, all lies and truth were created, and I felt his power trying to make me slip and fall—but my own power matched him, and my claws dug firmly into the earth.
My Shadow was strong and swift, but I was stronger and sturdy. He smashed his chest into mine and I fought him off, our jaws dueling for grips on the throat. He almost got me, but the thick ruff of fur around my neck and shoulders made getting purchase more difficult, and I raked at his ears.
We struggled furiously for the space of a breath and then parted, smashed into one another again, and this time I knocked him back. He was on his feet again with sinuous speed that was a little frightening. I did not dare to follow him up for fear that he might slip past me and harm the children.
“Get him, doggie!” the boy shouted, encouragement from behind me, his own little beacon of bright energy adding to my own.
I planted all four feet in front of the door to the root cellar and lowered my head, blue sparks leaping off my fur, while My Shadow prowled left and right. Around the far side of the house, there was another thunderous detonation and the sound of the old car in front of the farmhouse being crushed in the battle.
And then there was a great, mournful howl from where Cerberus fought Cowl and the Lion.
And then silence.
Fires had begun to burn on the other side of the farmhouse, or perhaps in one of the outbuildings. The flames made the shadows behind the farmhouse darker, and my brother grew less visible, his eyes and teeth gleaming.
My Shadow came to arrogant attention, staring at me with his ears flattened back with hatred.
“The Master of the Future comes,” my brother growled, breathing hard. “This is your last chance to flee.”
In response, I kicked my feet back, throwing up dirt, and did not move.
Cowl and the Nemean Lion came around the corner of the farmhouse. The human wizard was limping and clutched his wounded arm against him in pain, but his back was straight. Rage emanated from him in its own cloud of dark energy, reaching out to My Shadow and causing him to snarl in the same fury. The dark wizard stopped behind My Shadow with the Lion looming behind him, its eyes peering with feline intensity over his shoulder.
All three of them stared at me, and I could feel the weight of their regard like knives pressing against my skin.
“Harry,” Cowl muttered, staring at me. “You are an almighty pain in my ass.”
The fires leapt higher on the other side of the farmhouse, and the shadows darkened.