It prowled from one end of the log to the other, then pounced on one end, pounding and roaring. Then it ran around to the other end, waiting for the terrified prey to rush out the other end, like a cat trying to outwit a panicked mouse. Lou was no mouse, though, and though he was probably scared, he wasn’t one to panic. He hunched down farther back in the log, safe for the moment. He wasn’t going anywhere.
No wonder he hadn’t been able to find his way back. God knows how long he’d been trapped there. As I watched, I realized the beast was exactly that-a beast. It was a clever animal, nothing more. In its own dimension it was a natural predator like a bear or a lion. Only when it entered our world did it morph into the shape-shfter it was, stealing not only bodies but memory and personality and intelligence as well. And although it was resistant to talent back home, there was no reason it would be resistant here, especially with my newly minted strength. For once, I wasn’t worried.
I calmed my mind as best I could and concentrated on gathering the elements of a spell. Use its massive physical strength against it. Use the patches of snow dotting the ground, and the cold in the air. I gathered up the cold, added in some essence of grit from the sandy forest soil, used my nervousness to add a dollop of paralysis, and let my strength flow into the mixture.
“Louie! Lou!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the chill sunlight. “To me, now!”
If there’s one thing Lou doesn’t lack, it’s decisiveness. In a similar situation I might well have stood there for a moment gawking, until it was too late to move. Sometimes Lou acts without thinking and ends up getting himself in trouble. But all in all, the ability to act quickly is a good quality. Anytime you deal with violence and danger it’s better to be wrong than indecisive.
He bolted from the log and flew up the slope toward me. The creature had looked up at the sound of my voice, and by the time it looked back toward Lou, it was too late. So far, so good. Only, as usual, there was something I hadn’t counted on. Goddamn it! I’d forgotten what the Wendigo had said. They operated in pairs, and just like Ruby, there were two of them here.
The second one burst out of a thicket to the left, and in a few ground-eating bounds it was right on him. Lou dodged left, then right, but the thing was also quick, and it reached out one powerful arm and sunk its six-inch claw right above Lou’s right haunch. It lifted him up off the ground and brought him up toward its mouth.
Now what? If I cast out the spell I’d been preparing, it would catch Lou as well. But if I didn’t, he’d be dead in about a second, so there really wasn’t much thought involved. Maybe his natural Ifrit resistance to talent would provide him some protection, and it wasn’t precisely a killing spell anyway. I cast my spell hastily outward. With any luck, the creature’s joints would now seize up like a piston deprived of oil, and when it tried to move it would simply topple over like an ancient dinosaur with paralyzed feet.
The creature had turned slightly sideways, inadvertently protecting Lou with its body as it reached toward his skull, stretching out its long neck for the killing bite. When the spell hit, it froze in midstride. It stood there, unmoving, like a grotesque statue. Lou squirmed his way out of the thing’s grasp, giving a sharp yelp of pain as he did so. He dropped onto the ground and staggered, unsteady on his feet. It wasn’t just the wound that was affecting him. A light layer of hoarfrost rimed his fur, and he shook himself vigorously trying to shake it off, then collapsed on the ground. The motionless creature above him was rapidly glazing over with ice, as was the ground around him.
Spells are mostly about accessing power, and my spells usually employ some form of similarity for their effectiveness. Not everyone does it that way, but it works for me. Every culture from the ancient Sumerians to current voodoo priests acknowledges the power of similarity in magic. It’s one of the few things they have right, although you do have to possess some inborn talent to make it work. But it’s not supposed to be literal. The cold was a template for the spell, enabling me to metaphorically freeze the creature where it stood, but it wasn’t supposed to literally freeze it solid. Unfortunately, my newly enhanced talent wasn’t entirely under my control. I’d let loose with a broad wave of unbelievable cold, close to absolute zero I’d guess, and if Lou hadn’t been shielded by the creature’s body as well as being naturally resistant, he would have ended up as stiff as a frozen trout himself. Even so, he must have been suffering from frostbite at a minimum.
Before I could decide what to do next, a gust of wind breezed through the clearing. It caught the frozen creature, toppling it ever so slowly onto the hard ground, almost on top of Lou. With a tinkling shivery sound, it broke into a thousand pieces, as if it had been dipped in liquid nitrogen. Shards of frozen creature scattered everywhere.
I looked over to where the first creature had been standing at the other end of the log, but it was gone. It might not possess intelligence here, but it had enough animal cunning to understand that I was a danger. But like any true predator, whether a tiger or wolf or an other-worldly creature, it was still dangerous. I had no doubt it was lurking nearby, waiting for a careless moment on my part. We needed to get out of here as quickly as possible.
I ran over to check on Lou. He lifted his head and fixed me with a ferocious glare. You’d think he would have been jumping up and down slobbering with gratitude at being saved, but I hadn’t done such a great job of it. He’s not that way, anyway. It was a compliment, actually. He assumed that if he was in trouble, sooner or later I’d show up to help. After all, that’s what he would do. But he expected more from me than almost letting him get eaten and then freezing his tail off, almost literally. If my blast of cold had been just a little stronger, he’d now be a miniature dogsicle himself. He knew that, and he didn’t appreciate it.
“Sorry,” I said, bending down to examine him. “It got out of control.”
The layer of frost had dissipated from his coat, but he was still shivering. Considering what had just happened, I was afraid to try a warming spell. It might end up incinerating him by mistake. His right side was covered in blood, and when he tried to stand he had trouble staying on his feet. I needed Campbell; I’m not that skilled in the healing arts, and with my out-of-control power I was afraid to try anything in that direction, either.
I stripped off a couple of broad, coarse leaves from a nearby bush and used them to staunch the bleeding from his wound. The leaves were distinctive, bright red along the edges, thick and serrated. I hoped they weren’t this world’s version of poison oak. After I’d stopped the bleeding, I stuffed them into a pocket. I didn’t want to leave any of Lou’s blood in this place-it’s never a good idea, and blood could help something track us, even all the way back home.
I picked him up and put him under my coat, using body heat to warm him. The wound from the creature’s claw looked serious, and I had to get him out of here, back home where it could be taken care of. The problem was, I had been depending on him to find the way back, and the way he does that involves a lot of physical movement.
When he’d warmed up some, I put him down and offered the ham sandwich from my pocket-he must be starving by now. He probably hadn’t eaten in twenty-four hours-he could survive on the streets of any city with no problem at all, but the wilderness was not his thing. After a brief sniff he turned away, though. Not good. Not good at all. I would have put money on him eating even on his death bed.
Lou was sitting quietly now, watching me, listing slightly to one side as he tried to keep the weight off the injured side of his body. If we stayed here, he might not recover. I didn’t want to push him, but there was no hope for it otherwise.