Chapter 02:

"As the day was dawning, the Sāmbhar belled, once twice and again,

And a wolf stole back and a wolf stole back, to carry the word to the waiting pack,

And we howled and we bayed and we stayed on his track,

Once, twice and again"

Rudyard Kipling The Jungle Book

In my dreams there is a man running down a long bridge into infinity with no place to go and coming from no place in particular. The man keeps looking behind him and the expression on his face is concerned. There is something on his track and the man doesn't want to confront it. So the man keeps running, his backpack moving in rhythm with him. At first he breathes easily. After all the man is in good shape and built for this kind of running, all lean and lanky strong. But as time goes by, as time will, the man starts breathing heavier and slows down, finally coming to a stop. He sits on the bridgeway and pulls a bit of jerky and water out of his backpack. After he has had enough to keep him going the man reaches back into his pack and pulls a spyglass out of its magical recesses. He wipes the lenses carefully with a folded napkin and brings it to his eye peering back into the infinity behind him. The spyglass brings infinity closer knocking it's order down a notch. Off in the far distance the man sees a figure on his track coming to him at a steady, effortless lope. The man focuses in.

What he sees is a huge, blood red hound, long ears pointed towards the ground. The hounds fur is unruffled and the hounds demeanor is unruffled as well. It is a hunter and a tracker but there is no need for tracking on this infinite bridge where there are only two ways to go. The hound will meet its prey soon enough. The dog stops as if sensing the gaze of the man and looks amused. It howls to the skies and the sound echoes across the distance.

The hound starts running towards him and even from that great a distance, the man can see that each time it's giant paws strike the white marble of the bridge it leaves a large bloody paw print upon the bridge's once pristine surface. It is a sign and a promise of things to come.

The man stands up calmly and puts everything back into his pack. He leaves his pack on the ground and stretches a bit, flexing his strong hands. It doesn’t take long for the hound to catch up to him. The dog jumps -

I woke up from my dream still shuddering and sweating, remembering the eyes, the teeth, the howl of that blood red hound. I could still hear howling off in some vast and infinite distance. Something was coming.

I got up quickly and pulled on a pair of shoes and cutoff jeans. I picked up my staff, instinct telling me that it was needed as well as the offensive spells I had hung upon it in days when I had once required them.

The howling of that dog on the hunt started getting louder. The howling? Realization broke upon my sleep hang-overed mind. It was the same howl that I had heard before on the farm. Same howl? Same dog?

In the center of the room a portal began to form and an enormous pressure built up until my ears popped. A dog was coming through the portal, huge and shaggy red but it only half resembled the hound of my dream. It was built a bit like a mastiff and had to have weighed at least 300 pounds.

I crashed through the window of my bedroom and onto the sidewalk of the road that fronted my gallery. I had to have room to move in. Close quarters with that monster of a dog was not on my to do list.

The hound came after me through the window and I pulled a whiplash spell off the infrastructure of my staff. The spell attached itself to the staff's surface, bright sparks popping. I slashed the air testing it's star wars thrum and the dog stopped warily, eyeing me with suspicion. We heard a sharp explosion coming from my bedroom. The dog's master had arrived. A massive, booted foot came blasting through the wall of my bedroom where it caught the lower part of the window. Wood and glass sprayed out, peppering the parked skimmers that lay outside and a troll stepped through, all 7 foot of him dressed in typical troll fashion. Good lord he was almost as big as my friend Kenny. Compared to the troll, my staff looked like a toothpick. And that was one hell of a club he was idly spinning in his right hand like a tennis pro, all wood, banded steel and nails. He sniffed in my direction and his eyes narrowed. "Found you", the troll said in a deep rumble.

"Who the hell are you?"

The troll laughed and idly tossed it's club at me. I deflected it with the staff, sparks flew and it smashed into the house next door. He strolled over and plucked it from the ground smiling viciously, turning towards me. I looked at the house with a sinking feeling, noting the trampled flower bed and knowing that the impact of the club had most likely shaken a few things loose inside. The troll and I were both in very serious trouble, but the troll didn't know that and the fool was still standing in Gran's flower bed. A light came on from her bedroom window and the curtains parted. All I could see was her silhouette and the red glow of her eyes.

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"One piece of advice", I told him.

He looked at me inquisitively.

"RUN!" and I turned running north out of consideration for my gallery and my life. I liked ol' Gran but she could be damn scary and I was the one who had sent the club into the side of her home. As I ran I looked back and saw the troll preparing to throw his club at me again. Behind him the window flew open and a ball of dark evil looking mana formed over him. The poor troll never had a chance as it enveloped his suddenly screaming form and tightened with a surge. Then it went out and the troll was laying unconscious on the ground.

I stopped running. I knew it wasn't the smartest thing to do but I didn't care for running even if it was from someone as formidable as Gran. I really hoped she had vented everything on the troll.

By the time I got back, the street was filling up with curious neighbors and Gran was outside in a silly looking pink night dress standing over the troll with her delicate arms crossed and a look on her face that I instinctively tried to avoid. Shaking my head I met her icy grey gaze and flinched/winced, which is something normal people do if they think they have incurred Gran's wrath.

" Did you have anything to do with this young man?" she said in an almost pleasant grating voice and emphasizing the "young man".

I sighed, "Not my fault Gran. I swear. I was having a bad dream and poof, there he was with a dog and swinging a club."

I heard a low muttering from the crowd and looked to see expectant faces hoping Gran would lose her cool. They reminded me of blood thirsty spectators at a roman colosseum, "Ben Hur" style.

"Get inside", she said gruffly, gesturing at the troll, "Bring him in too."

"What about the dog Gran?"

She looked around, "What dog?"

What dog indeed? Perhaps he was smarter than the troll because he was nowhere to be seen.

After she shooed the neighbors away (they were very disappointed looking) we went inside and she led me to her spacious living room. I struggled with the effort of carrying the troll. "Just put him on the rug dear. I don't want him staining the furniture. Doesn't look like he has bathed for weeks." She wrinkled her nose, pulled a can of air freshener off a side table and shot him with a spurt.

As the scent of something spring like but subtly abominable permeated the air and settled itself upon the trolls rough green skin I had to wonder who he was and why was he after me? The thought that kept coming to mind was the incident on the farm and the howl of the hound. Strange forces had been at work that night and I couldn’t help but suppose that there was more to it than the shadowthief and Tasariana.

Gran disappeared into her kitchen and came back with tea and cookies which she placed on the coffee table in front of her Victorian styled couch. She sat in an old leather recliner and poured three cups. Then she pulled a wand out of a stand next to her recliner and started tapping the palm of her left hand with it and eying the troll and me with her unfaded steely grey eyes. Back and forth. Tap. Tap. Tap. I started getting nervous again. Finally her face acquired a decisive look and she gestured at the troll with her wand. He started stirring on the floor and sat up. His eyes opened and the moment he saw me his face contorted in rage. He made a movement as if to attack but invisible bonds held him. Gran hadn't released him entirely. Gran started tapping her wand again and the troll finally noticed her. Tap. Tap. His large pinkish eyes widened a bit and he stopped struggling.

Gran sipped her tea and leaned forward, "You two have a lot of explaining to do. My prize flower bed is ruined and the show is next week."

At this the troll lowered his massive head, "My apologies milady. Tramping over elders' flower beds is not something I usually do. I was trying to kill that man sitting next to you," and nodded at me.

I shrank back a little. If looks could kill and all that.

"So he's a polite troll." She mused out loud and smiled faintly. Then Gran arched an imperious eyebrow, "The boy does have his moments from time to time. What did he do?"

The troll growled, "This must have been one of his moments because he destroyed my house. Putting his head on a pike won't bring back my home but it will make me feel better."

What the hell? I had to guess that the remains of the house at the farm and the old farm itself belonged to the trol

At this Gran turned towards me, reminding me of an old fashioned, stern school teacher not in the mood to take any nonsense. "And did you?", she said.

"No Gran I did not."

The troll interjected, "Then why was your scent all over the place?" The troll sniffed in my direction and wrinkled his rather large nose in distaste.

And I had to explain to them about why I had been to the troll's farm on the trail of the shadow-thief.

By the time I had finished Gran had released the troll completely and he sat cross-legged on the floor, sipping tea and eating cookies.

" Really. I didn't destroy your house. It was already burned by the time the thief and I got there and it looked like it had happened several days before."

The troll sighed. It was an almost pitiful sound coming from such a fearsome looking visage. "Story of my life I guess."

"And that's something I want to hear. Excluding everything but the past few days of course," said Gran, "but first I want you to clean up and get into some different clothing."

"But milady, I didn't bring a change of clothes with me. All of it was burned in the fire."

"Call me Gran dear. Everyone else does. And clothes? I don't think that will be a problem."

The troll stood up and she led him into the recesses of her modest cottage.

"And what's your name?.........."

I glanced out the window and stood up. "Gran I need to talk to Davian and the security agency. They just got here. I won't take long."

"Take your time dear. This may be awhile. Say hello to Davian for me." Then she stopped for a moment. "And get into some clothes."

"Yes ma'am. I sure will" I said as I stepped out the door.

TLM 2004