Inner Demons, Part Six

PART SIX

     "What's going on?" Evon asked again, holding on tight as the wagon nearly flew over a bump in the dirt road.
     Frederick had not elaborated on the situation the night before.  In fact, he had told Evon not to talk at all.  Discontent, Evon had watched the werewolf prowl around the wagon until sleep finally claimed him.  When Frederick had shaken him awake at dawn, it was clear that the older man had not slept.
     "We have to reach Aburrot," Frederick finally replied, "and make sure that nothing's happened.  There's another werewolf loose.  The one I was tracking, the one that bit you, came through here first.  This one was probably another of its victims."
     "You're going to train both him and me at the same time?"
     "We'll see.  Whatever happens, stay back and don't get involved."
     Evon nodded solemnly.  "But," he replied abruptly, "aren't we leading it straight to Aburrot?"
     "No, Evon.  We are following it."

-----

     The wagon pulled up to Aburrot's gate shortly after noon.  Roofs of houses peeked over the top of a seven-foot wooden fence that encircled the village.  Evon couldn't help but stare.  He'd never seen another village before, let alone one that was fenced in.  Frederick had told him that it was to keep animals out, but Evon could hardly understand why they would want such isolation from the world.
     However, the fence wasn't only keeping out animals.  The gate was shut, and a stocky man wielding a large club was standing in front of it.  "The town is closed!" he shouted as they approached.  "No one is allowed in!"
     "Not even me, Tom?" Frederick asked innocently.
     "Nay, not even you.  There's a murderer loose and we ain't letting him in or out if we can."
     "Murderer?"
     "The priest killed, of all people!  We found him this mornin', all slashed up and innards everywhere.  Bloody mess."
     Evon and Frederick exchanged a look.  It was clear in each other's eyes: they were too late.
     Tom seemed to notice Evon for the first time.  "And who's this kid ye be dragging along?  Wasn't with ye last time."
     "Ah!" Frederick exclaimed.  "Tom, meet Evon of Fondur.  Evon, this is Tom Sherridan, an old acquaintance of mine."
     "Pleased to meet you," Evon said, bowing his head a little.
     "He's my apprentice," Frederick explained.  "I've been in need of one for a while, you know."
     "Aye, that you have," Tom replied.  "Well, I can't open the gate for no one, especially not with strangers present—no offense, young sir."
     "All I need is some food and water for my journey.  Surely you can let me in alone?"
     Tom shook his head.  "Not if it means my head.  Tell ye what, though…tell me what ye need and give me the feaths, and I'll have them fetched for you."
     Frederick rolled his eyes, but agreed.  He got down and talked with Tom privately for a few minutes.  As the guard disappeared through the gate, Frederick sat back in the wagon seat, looking haggard.
     "One of your acquaintances?" Evon asked.  "Is he…one of us?"
     "No.  Nor does he know about us, so don't bring it up.  To him I'm merely a traveling merchant."
     Evon nodded, but his questions were not yet satisfied.  "Fondur?"
     "Your village," Frederick replied, rather surprised.  "You don't even know its name?"
     "I've never heard it referred to like that.  Everyone always calls it 'the village.'"
     "Hmph.  Then I guess some education is in order.  Your village is called Fondur.  It's part of the kingdom of Sylaxa, ruled by—"
     "The phoenix-king Antus Aville, from the capital city Escondica, I know," Evon interrupted.  "I'm not totally uninformed."
     "Good," Frederick said with a wry smile.  "Anything else you need?"
     Evon reached into Frederick's money pouch and pulled out one of the small, silver coins.  "I've never seen feaths so clean before." He turned it over a few times, letting the sun reflect off its polished sides, each imprinted with a lone phoenix feather.
     "That's because your village is so small and isolated within the forest.  You just reuse the same coins over and over.  The nice thing is, you don't have to worry about burning yourself on these—they're not real silver."
     Just then, Tom returned with a small girl in tow, each carrying a small load of goods.  In one of Tom's hands was a strange box with a picture of a candle crossed out drawn on the side, but it was quickly covered as Frederick picked them up.  "That's everything you asked for," Tom said gruffly.
     "Thank you," Frederick replied, stowing the supplies in the back of the wagon.  "We'll be on our way, then."
     "What now?" Evon asked once they were out of earshot.
     Frederick frowned.  "We'll head around the south wall until we get back to the road and hope for a trace.  With the city locked down like this, we can't be seen prowling around.  If we can't find anything, we'll have to continue and let them deal with the werewolf themselves."
     Evon didn't like that plan, although he didn't have a better one.  The thought of leaving a murderous werewolf loose unnerved him.  He had been very close to becoming the same thing…and still was.

-----

     Even moving slowly, it only took them a few hours to reach the road again.  There had not been many search options available to them, either; they were being watched.  Frequently, Evon would look to one of the houses and the window curtain would quickly fall back into place.  By the time they returned to the road, the trail seemed to be dead.
     "Well, we tried," Frederick said resignedly.  "We can't lurk around here.  It's likely that the villagers will send out hunting parties to find the attacker."
     "It's too bad all this had to happen," Evon replied.  "I had rather been hoping to see you work on those clocks."
     Frederick grinned a little.  "Oh, don't worry, I'll start teaching you about that once we reach Vel Tir.  My old workshop is there."
     "Vel Tir!" Evon exclaimed.  "That's on the southern coast!  Aren't we heading for Escondica?"
     "We'll go there eventually.  I think that would be a bit much for you right now.  We're actually going to Lake Cascade, which is directly south of where this road joins the Royal Road.  I have a friend that lives there."
     Evon sat back and thought for a moment.  He knew about Vel Tir because trade caravans often came up the Ocean-Mountain Road, either to or from the city, and occasionally merchants would make a short detour to his village.  Escondica, however, was on the western coast, at the end of the Royal Road.  It seemed to him that Frederick was purposefully taking a longer route past the capital to Vel Tir.
     "In any case," Frederick continued, "if we headed down Royal Road now, we'd be in the capital in a week or so.  It's too early to take you to a city yet."
     Evon silently agreed with that.  He still needed more practice preventing his transformations before he'd feel comfortable around people again.
     A quiet fell between them as the horses plodded on.  Afternoon became evening, and evening became night.  Although it had lain dormant all day, the sight of the waning moon awoke Evon's wolf mind.  He felt his gaze drawn towards the sky.  A deep part of him longed to feel that power…to have that strength flow through him again… He shook his head, trying to clear it.  The wolf mind wasn't the only thing he had to resist.
     Evon snapped awake, not realizing he had fallen asleep.  The moon had passed over and dawn was approaching.  He rubbed his eyes drowsily; he'd been more exhausted than he'd thought.  Beside him, a tall, white werewolf held the reigns, his face covered by a wide-brimmed hat.
     "Aren't you tired?" Evon asked.  "You haven't slept in two days."
     "A werewolf can go several days without sleep," Frederick replied, "as long as he keeps switching between forms."  As if to disprove his assertion, he yawned widely, baring his fangs to the starlight.  "Nothing replaces real sleep, though," he added sheepishly.  "I want to be far enough from Aburrot before we stop…and I don't trust that werewolf to be gone."
     Evon nodded sleepily.  He looked back up at the stars.  He couldn't remember ever seeing them so clearly.  As he watched, they seemed to rearrange themselves into a great phoenix, its plumage stretching from horizon to horizon, then they all vanished into darkness.

-----

     Evon awoke feeling refreshed and energetic again.  He climbed out of the wagon seat and looked around.  They were back in the forest's depths, with the bright morning sun filtering through the canopy.  Frederick was curled up in a blanket not far away, a peaceful look on his face, and the two horses were both fast asleep.  There was no sign of a campfire; Evon guessed that they had stopped not long ago.
     Unsure of what to do, he wandered out into the trees.  It reminded him of the forest around his village—it was, after all, a part of the same forest—and idly thought of getting out his bow and practicing with it.  He looked behind him at the wagon, then at the sleeping Frederick.  Moving quickly, he walked back and started rummaging through the wagon's contents.  There had been other curious objects in there when he'd found the mirror, but hadn't dared to touch them.  Now, though…
     Hunger gripped him as the smell of food drifted from their recent supplies.  Hoping that he didn't need Frederick's permission to dig into them, he pulled out a few pieces of fruit, knocking over another bag in the process.  Some of Frederick's pants spilled out.  Curious, Evon picked up a pair as he ate and examined the seams.  At rest, they looked perfectly normal, but he could pull them apart.  Small, elastic cords held the various sections of cloth together.  He suspected that they were specifically designed for shape-shifters and wondered where Frederick had gotten them.  Even more, he wondered what it would feel like to wear them.  He glanced back at Frederick, but the older man was still fast asleep.  He quickly stripped his clothes off and put on the elastic pants—he knew there were shirts somewhere, but not in that bag—and climbed out of the wagon.
     The pants, of course, felt like any other in his human form, but that had not been his intention.  He searched his mind.  The wolf side was not hard to find anymore.  It was, however, not very reactive in the morning.  It took Evon a few prods to get it to lash out, but it warily retreated.  That was all Evon needed, though.  He felt himself suddenly stretching, his bones elongating, his muscles expanding.  He leaned back and stretched as the transformation completed.  He had told himself that he just wanted to try on the pants, but this…this was what he had truly wanted: to feel the werewolf's strength flood his body.
     He felt strange, too.  The wolf mind was hanging back, observing only.  Only curiosity emanated from it, not aggression.  This was the first time Evon had transformed of his own will, and the first time he'd had total control of his werewolf body.  He looked back at Frederick uncertainly, but there was no change.  Based on his observations, he expected the man to be asleep for a few more hours yet, and the forest looked unusually inviting.
     Stepping lightly, he wandered away from the campsite.  His gait was not as steady as he had thought it would be; he was not used to the werewolf's feet, and the wolf mind was offering no help.  The pants were not restricting his movement, though.  Stretched out as they were, they proved amazingly flexible.
     Once he was far enough away, he decided to try some tests of strength.  Werewolves were considerably stronger than humans, and he found that he could easily jump into trees several yards up.  Staying in them was another thing, though, and after falling out of a few trees he stopped trying.  He hoped that the claw marks in the bark wouldn't be noticed.  His back sore from landing on a root the wrong way, he continued wandering through the forest, sniffing the ground and trees occasionally in search of a fresh scent.  They didn't have much meat in the wagon, and he thought a fresh supply might justify this little romp.
     A twig snapped nearby.  Evon spun around, the wolf mind jumping in just long enough to pinpoint the source of the sound before retreating, and scanned the forest.  It took him a few seconds, but he finally spotted it: a girl's olive-skinned face, staring at him.  As he met her gaze, she turned and fled.
     "Wait!" he called—or tried to.  What really came out was a rather threatening-sounding bark.  Perplexed, he tried again, with the same result.  Shrugging it off, he hurried to follow her, using as many of his senses as he could to track her.  She had an oddly familiar scent…
     Without the help of the wolf mind, however, his command of his werewolf senses was weak, and the girl seemed to have some woodcraft of her own.  He quickly lost her.  He paused in a clearing to regain his bearings, blinking against the sunlight shining down on him.  Straight down.  With a start, Evon realized that it must be nearly noon—he had been gone for five hours.  He ran back the way he had come, worried that Frederick would already be awake and waiting for him at the campsite.  His fears proved unfounded, though—he only made it as far as the clawed-up trees before running into a very angry white werewolf.
     "Frederick!" he shouted in surprise, which sounded more like "Hurawrer!"
     "How dare you!" Frederick raged, hitting Evon hard across the snout before he could react.  "How dare you transform in the middle of the day, without me to watch you and so close to the Royal Road!"
     Evon folded his ears back and whined.  This was what he had hoped to avoid—although he hadn't realized that the Royal Road was nearby.  That being the most-traveled road in the kingdom, he could understand Frederick's anger.  Using the same techniques he'd been taught for preventing transformations, he pushed back the wolf mind, and to his relief he changed back to normal.
     "Frederick, I'm sorry," he said.  "I didn't… I just…"
     With a sigh, Frederick also returned to his human form.  "It's all right," he replied slowly.  "I know how you feel.  But at this stage, wait until I'm around to keep an eye on you, okay?"
     Evon nodded.  He understood the implied message: he was still too dangerous to be left alone.  They returned to the wagon, where the sheets Frederick had been sleeping in were strewn about as if he'd jumped out of them in a hurry.
     "You gave me quite a scare," Frederick said, "waking up to find you gone and your clothes left behind.  These pants seem to fit you all right, though.  I'll have to get you a full outfit when we reach Vel Tir.  You're broader and thicker in the chest than I am; I don't think my shirts will fit you right."
     "What about boots?"
     "Boots I can do, if your feet aren't too big.  But first, let's get across Royal Road and back into the wilderness."