Ascendants of Ancients Sovereign

CHAPTER 12

Here Kitty, Kitty

HOURS BEFORE SAM’S TEARS flowed, George awoke on the bank of the Cripple River. He jumped up when the alarm on his Rolex went off and once again hurried toward his destination. His muscles were tight, and every joint ached, but he pressed on, wanting to arrive before nightfall, or at least shortly thereafter.

To the northeast, a mountain range extended as far as he could see. George looked at his map. The mountains started near the Pool of Sorrow. He was certain he was getting close, and his excitement was building. One more look at his route showed the Pass of Tears to be east of the pool, and it was this pass that would lead him to the Cave of Sorrow.





As he worked his way north, George sensed something was wrong. He felt he was being watched, or worse, followed. With each casual glance toward the edge of the forest, he saw nothing. Yet something inside him knew he was being stalked. He could feel it.

He increased his pace. Just focus on getting to the pool, he thought, reminding himself of his goal to find the supposed map and the staff. Just focus.

Jason had said the pool was where he would find the tree with the boulder under it. Beneath the boulder would be the map—if there really was one—and on it, the location of the staff inside the cave.

Try as he might to focus on the journey and the prize that awaited, he could still feel the presence of something lingering in the forest. It was keeping pace with him, and worse, it remained hidden in the shadows and out of sight.

Don’t look, dumb ass, he thought. You can’t give whatever it is the impression that you know it’s there.

When George finally reached his destination, he discovered what everyone called a pool was, in reality, a huge lake—one so wide he could not see the other side. But the size had been reduced to something far smaller in his mind because of its name.

Under normal circumstances, George would have taken the moments necessary to enjoy the scenery, but instead, he had to figure out how to deal with his Peeping Tom. He could sense whomever—or whatever—was still watching. The feeling was unnerving. He knew, or at least he felt he knew, it would not be long before something would happen. He did not know why, but the alarm in his head was screaming he was in danger, and he had to fight to keep his wits.

Studying the area where the lake and river joined, he noticed a line of massive rocks that created a path that crossed the outlet. The stones spanning the distance could not have been positioned more perfectly, even if they had been placed by a set of giant hands.

Calculating the distance to be about 150 feet or more from start to finish, he made his way to the first stone of the crossing. As he did, he reached around and pulled his pack off his back.

Climbing to the top of the first boulder, George studied its large, flattened surface. The rock was easily more than 18 feet long and half as wide. After observing the torrent water that passed between the first and second stones, he knelt.





From the shadows of the forest, two yellowish-brown eyes tracked every movement the human made. The sun was sinking below the horizon, and the moment for the beast to make his move was approaching. Beneath his fur, powerful muscles rippled, anticipating the satisfaction of closing the distance between his kill and his place of hiding.





Rising from his crouched position, George looked beyond the outlet. There was a drastic drop in elevation that caused a temporary lapse in concentration. The movement of the water was fierce and created a powerful sound. He shook his head and turned his attention to the rock beyond. Jumping seemed possible, yet intimidating. The gushing torrent would kill him if he fell, but if he did not jump, he would be left vulnerable to whatever was stalking him.

George removed a torch from his pack and lit it with an old cigarette lighter he had in his pocket when he was taken from Earth. He tossed the torch to the rock beyond to offer additional light to the landing area, counted to three and then jumped.

When he landed, he collapsed, cried out and grabbed his right ankle. He rolled into a seated position and removed his boot. Keeping the corner of his eye on the forest and his head lowered, his face was unable to hide his anguish. He was sure that whatever was stalking him could see the concern on his face, and his weakness had to be penetrating the dusk like a beacon.

He rubbed his ankle, put his boot back on, wincing as he did, and tied it tight for support. He stood and tried to take a step, careful not to put too much weight on his foot. But he fell again and grabbed his ankle. Reacting like a wounded animal, he groaned as he fought the urge to scream.





As the sun split the horizon, shadows lengthened. Then, as if a switch had been turned on, a loud, horrifying roar filled the air. Out of the forest, a large, dark figure made its way toward him—slowly at first, then faster as the beast began to run.

George hobbled to his feet, put his weight on his good leg, and then clenched both fists. His heart pounded out of control as the thumping footsteps grew louder. Once the beast was close enough, it launched into the air. But before the monstrosity could land on the first stone, George corrected his posture and balanced his weight on both perfectly good ankles. Man, I hope this works, he thought. His injury, a ruse to flush out his attacker, was no longer needed. Raising his right hand, he screamed, “Stop!”

The beast landed on the first stone and prepared for his final spring that would send him crashing into his prey. His legs uncoiled, but three of his four paws remained trapped on the stone. The weight of the beast’s upper body continued forward as his free paw bridged the gap. The cat swiped at George’s legs, grazing one of them with his claw and sending the human spinning toward the edge of the stone he was standing on.

The unbreakable spell of the snare scroll George had used on the first stone when he knelt caused the beast’s weight to pendulum forward into its surface. The creature’s face smashed into the boulder before the rest of his body. One of his legs, his neck, and the lower portion of his jaw crunched on impact, filling the air with horrid cracking sounds.

Despite the beast’s advance being halted, the damage had been done. George’s legs had been swiped from under him, and he was now dangling from one of the jagged protrusions of the boulder’s exposed face above the unforgiving rapids that crashed against the rocks below. He struggled to pull himself up, the rough edges of the stone were cutting into his forearms. It took every last ounce of his strength to save himself, and as he got his leg up and over the edge, he rolled over the top to safety.

With George’s chest heaving to catch his breath, the massive creature let out a cry of pain so deafening that he had to cover his ears. George stood and retrieved his torch. Looking down at his leg, he noticed the lower portion of his right pant leg had been shredded. The material was saturated and blood was flowing from three gashes that had opened on the outside of his calf. The wounds were wide, but not too deep. The beast’s claws had hit their mark and his leg burned like hell.

George reached for his pack, rifled through it and searched for anything to stem the flow of blood. There was nothing other than his Gucci shirt. Damn it! I should have thought about first aid, he thought.

He ripped the left sleeve off the garment and used it as a tourniquet, but the flow was too much. He tore off the right sleeve, and still the cloth was not enough. He needed another plan.

“Damn it!” he muttered. He turned to look at the torch. “I can’t believe this. This is gonna suck.”

After removing the saturated sleeves from his leg, he reached under his opposite pant leg and pulled a dagger free of its sheath. He held the blade in the flame until he was sure the steel was hot enough. He took a deep breath and placed the glowing surface on top of each gash to cauterize the wounds. His skin sizzled and his hair singed. His screams and the smell of cooked flesh filled the air as he christened the rocks with the undigested remains of his meager dinner that he consumed while working his way to the pool.

He wiped the tears from his eyes and turn his attention back to his injuries. He held the torch close. He had not gotten it all. A portion of the middle gash was still bleeding. He lifted his head toward the sky and shouted his disgust, “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me!”

He took a few deep breaths between curses, and then he placed the blade against his skin again. He suffered until he was sure the cauterization was complete.

It took many long moments to calm his nerves, but eventually, he turned his attention toward his attacker. Although the failing light made it hard to tell, George could see the sheer size of the massive feline.

The cat was enormous, and his moans filled the deepening blackness. With each cry, shivers crept down George’s spine, and it was a long series of moments before his battered nerves allowed for clear thought. He crawled to the edge of his rock to get a closer look, biting down as he suffered through the shooting pain his movements caused.

The giant cat’s free paw lifted to strike, but the pain the movement caused forced the beast to retract its primal weapon. A single claw grazed the surface of the rock. That was all it took. The magic trapped the limb.

George realized the beast was immobilized. After a few erratic swings with his torch to entice another strike, he was sure the creature was safely bound. This newfound confidence gave him the courage to get a closer look. Holy hell, he thought as he leaned out across the gap as far as he could. That damn thing has got to be about 18 feet long.

He contemplated jumping to get a closer look, but the wound on his leg felt as if it might make the jump impossible. After thinking it through, he tossed his pack beyond the cat’s haunches.

Holding the torch high, he studied the area. Once he had his spot, he rocked back and lunged forward. As he landed, the wound caused his leg to give. He stumbled forward and came to a tumbling end on the broken body of the beast. The cat thrashed as the torch sizzled against its fur, and its wicked cries filled the night.

George scrambled to a small, secluded spot on the stone. The pain in his leg was excruciating, and he needed to pull himself together. By the light of the torch, he took what was left of his shirt and let one end drop into the water of the pool. Once the cool, damp material had been applied to his wound, he felt a little better.

He stood and stared at the cat. He moved the flame around to get a better look. Amazing! The snare scroll actually worked! he thought. He could not believe it was only a few short moments ago when he read the words of power from the parchment. The sight of the creature was impressive. The power the magic possessed to stop such a beast had to be tremendous. I can’t believe this magic crap works. This is awesome. Abbie would be scared to death right now.

As he held the flame up, he could see the beast had different shades of brown fur. Its broken leg was bent beneath its body in a horrific position. This thing must weigh a ton.

The cat continued to moan as George limped around it, wincing with each step of his right foot. The beast’s lower jaw was mutilated. It looked fake and hung awkwardly to one side. Both of its fanged teeth had broken, and they were laying on the stone not far from its head.

George’s mind was beginning to fight the reality of what had happened. He thought he was ready for anything the world had to offer, but this was the first series of moments in which anyone or anything had wanted to end him.

He remembered seeing this sort of beast in a children’s movie he had watched with Abbie not long ago. He remembered the cat having similar teeth. “I thought you were extinct!” he shouted, hovering over the animal. “What else does this place have to offer?” I don’t think anything here is normal! Mages! Magic staffs! Treasure maps … and now, extinct beasts! He shook his head. It doesn’t matter! It doesn’t freaking matter! Bring it on!

He kicked the saber in the gut as payback for his wound. The pain of the impact caused the cat to cry out and sent George back to the edge of the rock to dip his shirt into the water to help soothe the throbbing in his calf.

The human had never felt more out of touch with reality than he did now, and he was losing control of his emotions. As he shouted a new set of fresh curses into the night, his exploits were being observed by yet another set of hidden eyes.

Again, George moved in close. During this series of moments, he would take a new approach. He tortured the beast with his torch.

The cat tried to defend himself, but he could not.

George watched as the beast’s fur sizzled, and its flesh fried. The saber went from an angry growl to agonizing cries. George’s heart was growing colder with every moan the beast made. He resented the attack on his life, and lowered the torch onto its body again, feeling no remorse.

Soon, the torture of the flame was not enough to soothe George’s need for vengeance. Reaching toward his hip, he drew his sword. He whacked the flat of the blade against the fractured bone that protruded from the cat’s leg.

The beast wailed.

Smiling, he whacked it twice more. He reached down and twisted the lower portion of the saber’s broken jaw. He tugged and enjoyed the beast’s suffering. George had never experienced this kind of demented pleasure.

“Here, kitty, kitty!” he taunted, poking the point of the blade into different parts of the cat’s anatomy while savoring its cries. He was careful to make sure the point entered deep enough to draw blood, but not deep enough to puncture a major organ. He did not want to kill his enemy yet. The torture he was administering was far too enjoyable to stop.

“Payback’s a bitch!” he shouted. “You tried to kill the wrong guy!”

He limped over to pick up the bloody teeth from the rock and then mounted the beast in a straddled position, groaning from the pain in his leg. He then lowered the teeth in front of the cat’s pain-filled eyes and jeered, “I’m going to make a necklace with these. I’ll tell my baby girl how delicious you tasted tonight.” After pushing the points of the cat’s teeth into its neck, George leaned back and shouted, “Here kitty, kitty!” A wicked laugh followed, chased by another pain-filled groan.

He slid off his furry chair and circled the beast again, poking it some more with the point of his blade. With each step, he continued to scream, “Here, kitty, kitty! Oh, here, kitty, kitty! My pain is your pain!”

Becoming bored, George raised his sword above his head and plunged it through the cat’s neck, ending the saber’s life.

Leaving the sword buried in the beast’s throat, George released the handle and leaned against the cat’s body. He opened his pack and removed his old pair of pants and used them to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He took a moment to breathe, allowing his heartbeat to slow down and the rush of adrenaline to stop before he stood.

He studied the bloody scene. “Damn! Good thing the animal rights people aren’t here.”

Methodically, he severed all four of the beast’s legs to release the creature from its unseen bonds. Amazed at the beast’s weight, despite its missing legs, George had to cut the saber into 12 smaller pieces before tossing them from the rock to the ground.

Gathering some wood from the forest, he built a fire near an old tree trunk that had been pulled close to the shoreline. The piece of deadwood provided the perfect place to sit, and it was evident it had been placed there some seasons ago. A fire pit had been dug close to the log, and most of the ash inside the hole had blown away.

As he removed the rag from his wound and dipped it into the Pool of Sorrow, his senses were triggered. Something was not right. His gut feeling was telling him to be aware. He realized he was not alone and needed a plan.

George returned to the pile of meat and cut the large chunks of bloody flesh into smaller pieces. He put them into a pile, saved a few choice cuts to cook for dinner and then sat on the log. The now-experienced slayer of giant cats figured the flesh would serve as a distraction for any aggressive beast that might come along.

The night carried with it a slight chill, but the fire provided warmth, and it kept the area dimly lit. He had collected enough wood to keep it burning hot, tall, and strong until morning. His brief period of Boy Scout experience told him the flames would act as a deterrent for most animals, and with this knowledge, he smiled with satisfaction.

It took a bit of tugging, but George was able to remove the meat he had cooked from the end of his skewer. He had selected a cut from the beast’s haunch and was eager to enjoy the experience. He marveled at the tenderness, despite the fact he had held it a bit too close to the flame. All-in-all, his first helping of saber-tooth was a pleasure. His stomach was full, and he was satisfied with his success.





From the darkness, the demon-cat, Kepler, watched as George pulled the meat off the stick to eat it. He was nervous, not wanting to startle the man when he approached. This human was strong, just as the goddess had foretold. He did not want to end up like the Sabertooth Lord. Being eaten did not make for good conversation. Being cut up like his subject was not his idea of a good first encounter. He would approach with caution and avoid giving the impression that he was a threat.

The demon-jaguar moved forward, creating just enough noise to make his presence known. He had watched from the shadows of the forest as everything transpired, and caution was the proper course of action.

Kepler had been appalled as he watched the human strike his blade against the tiger’s broken leg, only to cause it further pain. He saw the look of pleasure on the man’s face as he twisted the saber’s broken jaw. The countless number of pokes with his weapon was humiliating to all cats. He could even smell his subject’s flesh as the heat of the flame scorched it. In his existence, Kepler had never made one of his victims suffer the way this human had. The demon-cat had always killed his victims in an instant—which made the sight of today’s events troubling to his undead heart.

He had a newfound fear of this human. Kepler thought back to his conversation with the goddess. “I warn you, Kepler, this is a strong-willed, hot-tempered human. I would not make him angry if I were you. I would hate to see you end up on a skewer, cooked for supper.”

The demon had now seen firsthand what Celestria meant. George seemed to have no problem cooking anything he killed, and he was not about to end up as another catch of the day.

Kepler feared no man prior to this night. The goddess foresaw this human to be a powerful ruler. He would send this world and others into darkness. The cat now believed this to be true. He hated admitting it, but he was afraid to approach after seeing how easy it was for the human to kill.

The jaguar crept toward the fire, but to his surprise, George did not stop eating. Did the human not notice him? Or worse, perhaps he did not care about his presence. Whatever the truth, the demon remained cautious, assuming the man was indifferent to his company. He thought, This human must be able to summon the power to stop any confrontation.

Kepler turned his nose up as he walked by the bloody pile of pieces. His mind was calculating as he circled the flames. How could this human ignore me? He fails to acknowledge my presence. This is my territory. My land. Has he not heard of me? Has my reputation not reached his lair?





George knew the jaguar was approaching. The fire cast enough light to see the beast out of the corner of his eye. Holy crap! He’s huge! He could bite me in half. The top of his back has got to be taller than I am. He’s gonna kill me. What to do? What to do? Think George. Think, damn it!

George decided not to lift his head for fear of making any movement other than what he was already doing and continued to eat. Terrified, every hair on his body stood at attention. This black cat was much larger than the saber, maybe another ton, which made his heart beat violently against his ribs, creating a wicked pulse in his neck. The throbbing pounded in his ears, and it was strong enough to drown out the creature’s heavy footsteps as it drew closer.

George watched as the powerful movements of the cat dwarfed the pile of bloody parts. He wanted to jump up from the log and run, but he knew the wound on his leg would get him nowhere fast.

The jaguar stopped. It was all George could do to keep the fear from his face. The sight of the solid-black cat, with burgundy-red, glowing eyes, amplified his desire to flee, but he held firm. He continued to eat, but struggled to swallow, not wanting to change anything in hopes the cat would move on. The saber’s remains had to smell appetizing. He could only hope they would provide him the chance to escape certain death.

George thought, If I live, I’ll never camp again. I’m helpless. I knew I should’ve used another scroll. My damn gun won’t kill it. I’m sure of that. I’m so dead. I’m so dead. Damn, how could I have been so stupid? I should’ve used another scroll. Damn those Boy Scout books. This thing isn’t scared of fire. He’s ignoring it. I’m so dead. Think, George. Just sit here and play it cool. Keep eating. Keep calm and show no fear. Ignore it. Maybe it’ll just go away. Oh, my freaking hell! Please … please go away!





Kepler stood near the fire, motionless. Now, not more than 15 feet separated the two of them, and the cat’s mind was also racing.

This human doesn’t care about my dominance of this territory. He must be truly powerful. He doesn’t appear to be nervous. I’ve never been ignored. I cannot let him live to tell about it. This is humiliating. Every cat on Grayham would laugh if they knew. But if I try to kill him, he’ll use his power. I’d be no better than the Saber Lord. What should I do? Perhaps I should lie down and see how he reacts. I should move carefully and maintain a regal posture.





George was relieved to see the jaguar lower to the ground, but the stare of those burgundy-red eyes continued to burrow a hole through his soul. He kept reminding himself that he did not want to do anything the animal would perceive as an aggressive action. From everything he had read, he knew no movement was the best movement. He kept eating.





Kepler and George continued their mental stand-off for a long, long series of moments, each believing the other could pounce at any moment. Finally, Kepler’s anxiety broke the silence. “Are you not frightened, human?” the demon-cat questioned, careful not to sound too intimidating.

After hearing the beast speak, George started to laugh. This was just one more crazy thing this place had to offer. The thought of the cat speaking sent George closer to the edge of insanity. He could not fathom that a giant cat could talk. He laughed so hard it hurt, and tears flowed from his eyes as he lost sight of the fact his life was in danger.

Kepler was now more convinced than ever of the human’s power. The man’s hysteria added to the feeling that this human cared nothing about his presence. He watched the man roll around and act like a fool.

“You don’t have to be rude. It was only a question. I don’t see what’s so funny,” Kepler said, his pride taking a beating.

Through all his laughter, George heard the beast. Taking a few moments to gain his composure, he noticed the cat shift, almost as if nervous.

On the far side of the fire, Kepler was worried the man might be toying with him. He figured it was a good idea to say as much as he could before the human calmed down since he might not have the chance later. “I had no idea you humans could be so rude and show so little respect. I don’t cross the boundaries of your territories to insult you.”





Now, fellow soul ... I must take a moment to interject. I find it somewhat humorous that George had no idea he was hurting the giant, undead demon-jaguar’s feelings. It also baffles me to this very Peak, as I hang out inside the Book to tell you this story, how a soulless demon could feel this kind of emotion.





“You looked as if you could use company,” Kepler said as he glanced at the pile of food and cringed at the idea of eating one of his own. “Care to share?” He nodded in the direction of the saber’s leftovers and then waited for the human’s response.

George fought to relax, took a few deep breaths, then reached over to grab one of the pieces of meat next to him. He threw it at the giant cat’s front paws and started laughing again. “Eat up. I don’t freaking care,” he said as the insanity swept over him.

Kepler’s ego never felt smaller than it did right now. How to react? This human was not afraid. His power had to be great—great enough to allow him to act without concern. Now, more than ever, his existence might be in danger.

Kepler decided he would say something to command the human’s attention. “I’m here to assist you in your bid to rule this world. Together, we could bring the territories of Grayham under our control. We could hunt freely, without opposition, and dominate.”

This caught George off guard. ‘Rule this world?’ he thought. What the hell does he mean by that? Where am I? His cackling covered his confusion. He took a short series of moments to quiet himself and think. He sat up to look at the beast, but his temporary state of insanity was still not allowing him to think straight.

“Why would I want to have a large p-ssycat following me around? What could you possibly do to help me? Are you going to lick everyone into submission?” George chuckled. His mind was so far gone he was now easily making fun of the beast that only moments earlier had terrified him.

The demon-cat was taken aback by George’s ridicule. He had never been made fun of or allowed anyone to speak down to him. “I have skills,” Kepler retorted, now a little unsure of his own conviction in the statement. “I can do far more than lick your enemies,” he said indignantly.

George stopped laughing and sat up, continuing to hold his belly. “I can’t remember ever laughing this hard. Oh my hell, my stomach hurts.” He reached up to wipe away the tears, feeling as if he was in a dream.

“I’m sure your big ass has many skills. Quick, lick yourself. I’m sure that will send our enemies running. Why don’t we run around and introduce ourselves throughout the land? How do you want to say it to everyone? How about this? ‘My name is George, and this is my loyal sidekick, Captain Ball-licker.’” Again, George started to laugh.

Kepler’s self-esteem was sinking to an all-moments-low, and he was becoming angry. He did not know what to say that would make any difference, so he decided to walk away. He stood. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. My name is Kepler, not Captain Ball-licker. I won’t allow you to mock me. No one speaks to the Master of the Hunt in that manner.” He held his head high and walked away.

Seeing the cat was leaving, George stopped laughing and fought to bring himself back to reality. There might be something he was missing. Why was this beast under the impression that he, of all people, was the one it should form an alliance with? None of this made any sense, but he never passed up an opportunity to manipulate a situation.

“Hey, Kepler!” George called out in a relaxed tone. “Come back, and I’ll stop being such an ass!”

Kepler stopped and turned to look, but after a moment, he continued to walk away.

George had one shot to get the upper hand before there was no hand to play. “Suit yourself, Kep, but I’m disappointed you’re not witty enough to pass my test!”

Kepler stopped. What is this human talking about? What test? Did he know I was coming? Could he have known and killed the saber as a message? If it was a message, it was received. Garesh! I’ve got to know. I’d love to rip his throat out.

The jaguar turned and headed back to the campfire. “I don’t like tests, human,” the demon growled while lying down.

George did not miss a beat. “Let me ask you something, Kep. Why would I want your company? What do you bring to the table that would help us?”

Kepler did not know what to say, so he stayed quiet.

“Come on, Kep. Talk to me,” the manipulator continued. “You clearly want to travel with me. What makes you think I need a travel buddy? Why would I want someone like you assisting me? Give me a good reason, and I’ll promise never to call you Captain Ball-licker again.”

Until now, George’s only concern had been to retrieve the staff from the Cave of Sorrow. He would have figured something else out from there, but he did like the idea of dominating a world. He wanted to know more.

“I’m undead. I am demon. You’re looking at the Lord of all Cats. They obey my command. I have other talents that may prove useful as we travel. They can be easily demonstrated.” Kepler roared to restore his self-esteem, then snorted his disdain.

What Kepler did not realize, his statement revealed a clue about why the saber-tooth attacked. It also gave George the idea that Kepler may have seen the events of the night and watched the saber die. The demon all but said, at least in George’s way of thinking, Kepler had ordered the attack on his life. In light of this new information, George now believed the beast was just as nervous as he was. Kepler had given George an ace up his sleeve.

George decided to ask a few questions. He hoped his thinking was accurate, and if it was, he could use Kepler’s fear to his advantage. He led the beast down an unsuspecting road of admission. “So you’re undead? Impressive. You’re also the Lord of all Cats, right?”

“I am.”

“So, you’re their ruler? They are under your command, doing whatever you tell them to do, right?”

Kepler nodded. “But of course.”

“Not bad,” George responded. His voice was filled with encouragement.

The demon’s self-esteem was growing as he sat up. “All prides in every territory fear me.”

George crossed his arms as he continued the interrogation. “So, your orders are always followed, and they would never do anything against your wishes. Is that right?”

Again, the jaguar confirmed the statement and pushed his chest out. He was now feeling strong once again. “I told you I had skills. I can do far more than lick myself. Do you see the value of my talents?”

George smiled inside as he now figured the moment was right to bring the jaguar down a notch. “My eyes have been opened, but it seems that I’m missing something.” He changed his expression as he continued, making his statements sound factual to let the beast know he was on to him. “I’m sure you would agree with me that it isn’t a coincidence you’re here after I had a run-in with one of your subjects.”

The jaguar’s delayed reaction confirmed George was right. The demon had ordered the attack. He was now sure the cat had seen his subject butchered. “I’m sure you can see I’m a little annoyed, Kepler.”

The demon’s face showed the guilty verdict, but he tried to cover it up with a lie. “I swear to you, I didn’t order the attack.”

Despite his denial, Kepler knew what was coming next. His pride had led to his downfall, moving down a forked road and taking the wrong path when it mattered most. He dreaded what his ears were going to hear next.

“You’ll never be able to lie to me, Kepler. I also don’t enjoy tests...” He nodded his head in the direction of the bloody pile of meat, “...unless the test becomes my dinner.” He paused for effect and then continued. “You should level with me. Just admit you ordered your friend to attack while you watched.”

Kepler did not respond.

A short series of moments passed before George continued his interrogation. “Why the deception? Just admit it. You’re not here to travel with me, are you? You hoped I would be an easy meal. Be honest. I’m not in the mood for lies.” Switching to a harsher tone, George added, “I won’t travel with you if I can’t believe you.” He watched for the cat’s reaction.

The demon hesitated before speaking. He was unsure what George would do if he lied again. No matter what, he was between a rock and a hard place. It was best to own up to the attack and then try to explain his reasoning.

“I did give the command, and I watched the saber perish. I wanted to see if you were strong enough before pledging my allegiance to someone who couldn’t defend himself. The things I’ve said about coming here to travel with you are true. Together, we could dominate kingdoms.”

After he listened to the demon’s response, George thought a moment. He knew he had a huge advantage over the jaguar. He was unsure what the beast’s perception was of the event, so he asked Kepler to explain what he saw.

The demon felt this to be an odd request, wondering why the human would want to relive the slaughter, but he did not argue. Kepler finished his account by saying, “...I’m not sure what else to say, other than I decided to offer my services to you after bearing witness. It was, after all, what the goddess thought I would enjoy doing.”

The deceiver had no clue what Kepler meant by “the goddess,” but he did not want to lose the upper hand. “What other skills do you offer, Kep, other than being the Lord of all Cats?”

“I can capture the souls of men with dark natures. I trap them inside their bones, and they must do my bidding until I decide to release them.”

George smirked. “That’s sick, man. Tell me more.”

Kepler’s brow furrowed. “I can hide in the smallest of shadows. This allows me to stalk in situations where stealth is required. Simple things … things that affect normal creatures, don’t harm me. I walk the world as undead.”

George nodded. “That’s wicked disgusting. Holy cow, what else?”

Although Kepler was unsure of George’s odd references, he could tell the human was intrigued. “Poison and extreme cold are harmless annoyances. Make no mistake, I am the Master of the Hunt for many reasons.”

George smirked. “Master of the Hunt, eh? Take it easy, stud. You’re head’s going to explode.”

The demon pondered the word “stud” and then dismissed his confusion. “I’m skilled at gathering information, and these claws are unmatched when the moments show no solution other than to pounce. If these traits are not what you consider esteemed, we have nothing further to discuss. I shall hunt on my own.”

George liked a lot of what the jaguar had said. What could it hurt to have the beast travel with him, as long as he could maintain his illusion of power. A cat with this size would definitely offer protection, and all he needed to do was stay in one piece until he could retrieve the Staff of Petrifaction. Once he was able to turn things to stone, he could re-evaluate his need for the demon.

Turning to Kepler, George thought of two questions. He hoped the answers would make the next couple of steps of his journey much easier. “How do you feel about pushing aside heavy boulders, and are you immune to the effects of the beast inside the Cave of Sorrow?”

Kepler’s responses were everything George wanted to hear. They decided to call it a partnership—for now—and since the night was late, George turned to sleep. It was only a few hours until sunrise, and there was a big boulder to find. As George went to sleep, he dreamt of Abbie and Athena. They took his little daughter to an amusement park and ate cotton candy. It was a pleasant dream.

Kepler, on the other hand, was relieved that he was able to accomplish the task Celestria recommended. The loss of the saber lord was regrettable, but as it turned out, it was necessary. At least he knew what he was up against. He yawned as he jumped up on a nearby boulder to lie down and reflect on the Peak’s events. As the fog moved in across the lake, a soothing breeze swept over him.

High above, on a branch in a nearby tree, Lasidious had watched the travel companions’ paths merge. The god lowered his eyes to the rock at the base of the tree. It was this large stone the map rested beneath, and it would soon be discovered. He realized he was right about George’s ability to seize power, and he hoped the Earthling could distract the gods. He needed this diversion to hide Celestria, allowing her to give birth without fear of discovery. He enjoyed the luck involved this evening, but he knew this kind of luck only followed those who were clever enough to find it. Smiling, the God of Mischief’s eyes flashed red, and then he vanished.





Kepler sitting near the Pool of Sorrow

Southern Grayham





IT IS A NEW PEAK and everyone is up and moving in their own little part of the worlds governed by the Crystal Moon. Celestria and Lasidious are once again plotting inside their home on Ancients Sovereign.





GEORGE is with Kepler at the Pool of Sorrow. After waking, Kepler sent for help to move the boulder that supposedly sits atop the map.





SAM is training with BJ in the field just outside of Angels Village. The fighter is being humbled by yet another series of beatings, but he is showing significant improvement. Kael has even commented on Sam’s growth, saying he is doing much better than the Peak before—because he could not have done much worse.





THE HEALERS have attended to Shalee, replacing her bandages and applying more healing mud to her arm. She is tired from the experience, but not in too much pain. Despite her injury, she smiles as she looks across the room toward the fireplace. She is holding Precious in her good hand, and she is commanding the fire—making sure to only use simple commands so she can enjoy the benefits of her successes.





HELGA is working on a few new lessons for her protégé. The older sorceress has every intention of making Shalee practice with her broken arm. She plans to retrieve her student from the inn not long from now.





MOSLEY is talking to the manager of Angels Arena, setting up Sam’s first fight to give the Earthling a taste of the intense competition inside Southern Grayham’s arenas. This particular battle will not be to the death, but neither will it be without injury if Sam does not fight well. The competition, using wooden staves as the weapon of choice, will continue until a cry for submission is uttered. Compensation for victory will be 10 Owain coins, or two if he loses.





BASSORINE is in a meeting with the Book of Immortality. He is trying to convince the Book that Lasidious is up to something, but the Book is not giving Bassorine the answers he is seeking.

Lasidious has not broken a law, and until he does, his actions are permissible. The God of War will storm out of the Hall of Judgment, feigning his regret of the creation of the Book as he passes Keylom on his way out.

Thank you for reading this edition of the Grayham Inquirer