Maelfesh had ceased dealing directly with humans several millennia ago, having graduated to demi- demons and the like, higher life forms, according to way of thinking. The demon had regarded it as a promotion at the time, but had forgotten how predictable demons were, being programmed to accept leadership of the hierarchy. Humans were quite unpredictable and were seldom, if ever, willing to accept the existing hierarchy of power, human or otherwise.
Even now. this miserable, half-literate, over-sexed brute of a Wolf Nomad was contemplating the odds of successfully double-crossing the demon and escaping unharmed. Maelfesh felt the flicker of hope as it rose in the human, mirrored by the gem that hung from his neck. The demon smiled to itself as it pictured what was to come. Maelfesh was almost glad to have been thwarted; it was going to be great fun playing with this nomad. I might even miss him when he is dead, Maelfesh thought. But not for too long.
"Don't even think about trying to break your word," said the demon as a corona of white-gold flame shot out and formed a gleaming diadem around its head. "I will know what you are thinking, and should you deviate from my strategy, revenge will be swift."
"I would never do that!" said Mika, trying to stifle the thought that had crept into his mind unbidden, wondering how the demon had known. Surely it was but a lucky guess.
The demon seemed to fade for the briefest of moments and then it flared up brighter than before as it stretched to its full height.
"It was no lucky guess, human. To demonstrate my abilities, I will help you with the wolf. You did the spell wrong. You used the cocoon of a vampire moth, not a caterpillar. Details are very important, Mika. Had the spell worked, you would have been faced with a vampire wolf. However, I, Maelfesh the munificent, will help you this once and give you what you think you want… a troll wolf."
The demon gestured over the body of the wolf with its long, flaming hand. Unreadable runes burned in the air, glowed brighdy, then disappeared, leaving only a smudge of black smoke to tell of their passing.
As Mika watched, Tam stirred. The demon laughed, causing every molecule in Mika's body to dance as though possessed. As the bile rose in Mika's throat and he clutched at the marble column for support, the demon turned into a pillar of fire that spouted huge spires of sparks and flames which cascaded down on Mika, setting his cape and even his hair afire before disappearing from sight.
CHAPTER 2
Mika hopped across the floor of the temple, frantically beating out the fires that sizzled and burned his hair, clothes, and body. His hair was the worst; he could feel the flames as they chewed through his thick brown mane and reached for his scalp. Smacking himself on the head with the flat of his already scorched palms, he managed to extinguish his burning locks, but not before he was nearly choked by the thick clouds of acrid smoke that smelled like burning feathers.
Ignoring the pain in his palms, he slapped at the flames on his cloak, flames that seemed to grow taller with his every movement. Finally realizing that the air was fanning the fire, he disengaged the hasp that held the cloak at his throat and dropped it to the floor where it burned merrily until it was but a pile of ash.
As he beat out the last of the stubborn embers that had eaten their way into the thick leather of his tunic, he heard an ominous growl. Starded, he looked up and saw a sight so frightening that his heart lurched in his chest and then palpitated wildly.
Standing on top of the altar, head lowered, ready to spring, was Tarn. Or what had once been Tarn. Now it was some dreadful parody, some horrible apparition that looked like Tarn, but wasn't.
The creature had nasty greenish-gray skin, with only the barest hint of fur growing in a few meager clumps on its body, between its ears, sprouting between its spavined ribs, and at the very end of its tail. Even these few small bits of fur were ringed with scrofulous, flaking skin.
The terrible chest wound still gaped wide, and the flesh beneath was a sickly shade of gray. A pale, watery ichor dripped from the wound, and where it fell upon the altar it hissed like acid and ate its way through the stone.
Its teeth were bared, showing corpse-white gums thick with foamy spittle that dribbled over its lips.
But the creature's eyes were the absolute worst, for they burned with a dreadful intensity that showed no sign of recognition.
"Tarn?" Mika said in a quavery voice, hoping that his friend, the wolf, would come to his senses. The creature's ears pricked at the sound of Mika's voice, but it did not have the desired effect. Instead of recognizing him, the wolf lifted its dewlaps and snarled, a deep, throaty sound that rose from the animal's chest. Mika knew that sound all too well; he knew that it signaled an impending attack.
"No, Tam! Look, it's me, Mika, your old pal!" Mika said fervently, a sick smile on his face.
But even that failed to work, and the wolf that had once been Tam dropped into a crouch and hurled itself at Mika.
Mika dove aside as the troll wolf lunged past, its teeth snapping futilely at the spot where he had been. Quicker than Mika had expected, the creature landed, twisted, and flung itself at Mika again. Mika threw up his hands, deflecting the wolf as it attempted to rip out his throat, causing it to fall to the ground, momentarily off balance.
Mika seized the opportunity to run, placing a marble pillar between himself and the troll wolf while he tried desperately to think of what to do. He had wanted to turn Tam into a troll wolf, and he had gotten what he had hoped for. Now the problem was to stay alive until the wound healed and he could turn Tam back into a normal wolf.
The book! Mika felt for the spell book, hurting his burned hands in the process. But the book was gone, as was the pouch it was kept in. Mika chanced a brief look out from behind the pillar and spotted the book where he had left it, on the ground halfway across the temple on the other side of the wolf, who was even now getting to its feet and looking around for Mika.
Their eyes locked; Mika felt a shiver of fear run down his spine as the cold, dead eyes stared into his own.
Mika swallowed painfully and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to think of how he might evade the troll wolf and reach his spell book. Perhaps there was some other spell he could try, some other way he- Mika stopped in mid-thought and looked down at his hand. In it was a large, brittle clump of frizzled threads. Except it wasn't thread, it was his hair. He dropped the awful stuff as though it were a handful of maggots and touched his head gingerly with his other hand. Another brittle clump broke off and, as he stared at it sorrowfully, he realized that all of his hair had been fried by the intense heat of the demon's passage.
Hardly had he taken in the thought when the troll wolf made its move. Padding softly toward him, it paused no more than a man's length away and eyed Mika, obviously wondering which way he would move around the pillar.
Deciding, the troll wolf slunk around the right side of the column, the side closest to the fallen spell book. Moving more swiftly, the troll wolf dashed forward, its teeth clacking together sharply, and Mika yelped and ran from behind the pillar with the wolf in close pursuit. He pounded across the pavement, bellowing with every step, not only from fear but from the awful pain of his burned feet which were already beginning to swell inside his badly charred boots.
Mika ran for the edge of the room, hiding behind each and every pillar, hoping to confuse the wolf, throw it off the track. But the troll wolf was not deceived and followed Mika every step of the way, snapping at his heels and trying to slice his hamstrings.
"Tam! Там!" screeched Mika. "Stop! Don't you recognize me? It's me, Mika. Tam! Stop!"
But the troll wolf, undeterred, continued to do its utmost to catch and kill him, all the while growling and snarling in a most hideous manner.