 
Shifter

By John Sharp

Copyright 2015 John Ustaszewski

Editor Elizabeth Wiglesworth

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase a additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
TABLE OF CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Ch 1 - The Mad Teenager

Ch 2 - Mother

Ch 3 - The Great Escape

Ch 4 - The Heist

Ch 5 - Dances With Watchers

Ch 6 - What Has Been Seen...

Ch 7 - The Unforeseen - Sarah's Tale

Ch 8 - Getting Answers

Ch 9 - Shifters Inc

Ch 10 \- Your Reality Or Mine?

Ch 11 \- The Plan

Ch 12 \- Into The Hive

Ch 13 \- Surprise

Ch 14 \- It's A Trap!

Ch 15 \- Brave New World

Ch 16 \- The Dragon's Graveyard

Ch17 \- The Kiraten

Ch18- The City Of Babel

Ch19 \- Judgment Of The Gods

Ch 20 \- My Dream Girl

Ch21 \- Stairway To Heaven

Ch22 \- Its The End Of The World As You Know It

Ch23 \- The Fallen Disciple

Epilogue - Its a Mad Mad World After All

Preview: Lilith Torrawind Saga Book I - Quest Of The Hellborne

Preview: Shifter Book II - The Corruption Within

Connect with John Sharp

### Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Scott Wiglesworth who believed in me, when I did not. I would also like to thank his daughter Liz who's professional editing skills made this book a reality.

### Shifter
### Chapter 1 – The Mad Teenager

On October 18th at 12:30pm my neighbor, Mr. Sullivan, was discovered dead, and I was immediately sent into the Greenbroch Mental Institution...again. I can't blame the police, not really. You find a grizzly crime scene and the local crazy boy is his neighbor. Crime solved. But the evidence will clear me in short order, if you consider a single severed foot evidence. I certainly don't, but then again I'm mad, or so they tell me. I believe the term my doctor's use is "mentally unstable" with an extreme case of schizophrenia and constant visual hallucinations. I've been on more medication than a life time drug addict, but nothing helps or even affects me. Everyone, and I mean everyone, thinks I'm utterly insane and some days I wonder if they aren't right. When questioned by the police about the death I assured the good officers that I didn't kill him but that he had been eaten by the wall. The conversation deteriorated from there.

I remember it vividly: Mr. Sullivan had just exited his apartment, the one adjacent to mine, wearing a rather heinous green Hawaiian shirt with pineapples all over it. A large sweaty man with a receding hairline, he had a belly that would make Santa jealous, and he avoids me like death itself. Most people do. Too bad this time it caused him to die...or it was the shirt? Anyways, that day he was edging along the far wall as I stared at him dispassionately. In all fairness I wasn't looking at him but at the six inch pink elephant on his shoulder. I hadn't seen one of those before. It was making cute trumpeting sounds as it danced around him in mid-air. Neat.

As he neared the exit for the stairwell a large face manifested out of the wall, grinning like a lunatic. This was not an uncommon occurrence for me. Often faces will appear out of structures or even roads and tell me what went on inside. But this time something was wrong. The face was immense, reaching from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. Large, fist sized teeth were visible in a mouth that was much too large, even for that face. Granite colored eyes stared at the approaching man, an eager, hungry expression dominating its features. I shouted a warning but all that did was make Mr. Sullivan turn directly toward his death. I don't think he ever properly saw it, even as he was being eaten alive. A quick, startled scream and half of him was pulled into that mouth by a long thick black tongue the size of a python, wrapping around his feet and pulling him in. The first bite was the worst. Those teeth were not meant for piercing but for grinding. Sounds of shattering bones and urgent, pain-filled screams echoed in the narrow hall. He flailed uselessly, half of him already inside the mouth being steadily chewed and savored. Bloody hand prints decorated the wall at each wet slap of Mr. Sullivan's hands like primitive cave paintings as he desperately tried to free himself. The smell of coppery blood quickly drove all else from my mind as I stood and watched, horrified. I wanted to help, but the blood told me it was too late, there was nothing I could do for him. Perhaps I should have ran but the sight of a two hundred fifty pound man being eaten like a tasty appetizer is one I don't see often and a sick fascination held me in place. I did pale when the face's cheeks puckered as it sucked off all the clothes and skin off the man like he was a piece of extra crispy KFC. Too bad the poor man was still alive when that happened. A few more bites and splashes of blood along with other fluids and it was over. With a final tug the rest of Mr. Sullivan disappeared into the mouth with all that remained was a single foot still in its expensive shoe that somehow fell out of the mouth during the meal along with a large puddle of blood.

So here I am two weeks later in a straight jacket, being drilled by a licensed medical professional who knows I'm a lost cause. I've been coming here on and off my entire life, ever since I could speak and reveal that I see disturbing things. In fact, I've spent more time here than at school or home. My mother doesn't mind, it's a relief to her when I'm away. She's far more interested in her social life and keeping me away from any potential boyfriends before I can scare them away. My father disappeared shortly after my conception. I have no idea who he was or if he's even still alive, and my mother never talks about him.

My attention comes back to the professionally dressed man in front of me as he starts up his line of questioning; the same repetitive questions they ask me every few days, expecting reason and logic to change my response.

"How are you today Jerry?" He asks, making small marks on his notepad.

"Fine. A snug straight jacket always improves my self-esteem."

"I would like to talk about what happened to your neighbor." He says in a dispassionate tone, dismissing anything I might say.

"I was watching the pink elephant dancing around Mr. Sullivan's head when the wall ate him like a slim jim."

"Uh huh," he replies, making more notes. He continues like he hears that every day, and perhaps he does. Maybe there are no crazies in the world, just people who see things like I do. "Did anyone else see this happen?"

"Just my shadow." I reply, looking over his shoulder at my shadow, who leans against the corner wall smiling wickedly at me. It's odd how no one notices I don't have a shadow like they do. They explain this away by the angle of lights or conflicting shadows around them. The simple truth is that my shadow isn't attached to me and can go where he wishes, but he never travels too far.

"You should just kill him and leave. I'm bored," my shadow says, glaring at the man in front of him. My shadow always suggests violence and dark deeds, like my own personal devil following me around.

"Relax, we'll leave soon enough," I say over the doctor's shoulder. He instinctively turns around, looking to see who I am talking to. A slight frown crosses his face as he notices the extra darkness in the corner. Turning back to me, he takes off his thick rimmed spectacles, wiping them on his shirt and dismissing the strange phenomenon like everyone else does.

He gives me a patronizing smile and says, "Its ok Jerry, no one is there." He gestures toward a large mirror so I could see that we are alone, but of course I see things differently. I pause, studying my reflection. I have reddish-brown hair that could be best described as a burnished copper. My odd hair color is offset by my vivid, forest green eyes which are more cat-like than human with slit pupils. I was told it was some kind of genetic defect. With the complexion of a lifetime heroin addict, I have large, purple bags under my eyes and a wiry frame. I don't do drugs of course; I'm already crazy enough. I also don't tolerate patronizing assholes like the doctor here.

I decide that I've been here long enough to satisfy any law enforcement and that it's time to go home. I really want to see Whisper, my best friend. I've had plenty of practice getting out of these places. I'm sure I can be back on the streets in an hour.

"But doctor, there is someone there and he's getting anxious that I'm still stuck here when the police have no proof that I did anything. If he gets annoyed things might start happening." The doctor gives me a wary look. There are a lot of not-so-nice rumors floating around about me. Of course, I didn't do any of the things they think I've done, but then again, I didn't have too. Madness can be rather infectious.

"Now Jerry, I want to finish my examination and file my report. You can stay here for a few more days. For your own safety, of course," the doctor says, making a few more marks on his clip board. Focusing my gaze directly on my shadow still lounging in the corner, I deliberately squeeze both of my eyes tightly shut. He grins. This is our agreed upon signal for him to screw around as much as he wants. He slides along the wall to his left, as if light was shifting away from the door, casting the room into unearthly dark shadows and he flicks off the lights.

Startled the doctor looks up at the door. The light switch is far away from me, now bathed in a soft red light by the always present dim emergency lights. Confused, he stands up to turn the lights back on when my shadow does it for him.

"Holy shit!" He cries out, backing away from the table.

Smiling like a loon, I say, "Don't worry doctor, it's only my shadow. It happens all the time. You're just as sane as I am." I don't think that comforts him. The lights flick on and off several more times as the frightened man watches, not believing his own eyes. With a final act of mischief the doctor's clip board spontaneously flies off the table. He's finally had enough.

Thirty minutes later I stroll toward the security desk with the doctor whose name I never bothered learning. My ever present shadow trails behind us, poking at the doctor's inanimate shadow. Stopping at the front desk my doctor holds out a clip board with an unsteady hand to the guard, safe behind a metal cage.

"What? He's being discharged?" The guard asks, blinking in disbelief.

"I finished my examination. He's no danger to himself or others." The doctor says in a shaky voice. "The police can question him at home if they need too. I don't need to see him again." He's very careful not to look at me.

"You ok, doc? Did the kid do something to you?" The guard asks, cracking his knuckles.

"I didn't do anything. It was just my shadow," I reply. My shadow lets out a deep, evil laugh; the kind of laugh that raises your hackles. It affects the men too. Although they can't hear it, the sheer malevolence is heavy in the air.

The doctor shudders. "We can't help him here. Send him home!" Without waiting for a reply, he turns and does a stiff, fast walk away, obviously resisting the urge to run.

Grumbling, the guard comes forward and unlocks the door. With an impatient gesture, he signals me forward and helps me out of my straight jacket.

****

"That was fun," my shadow says, blending into the various shades of darkness around me as I exit the asylum. I smile but don't respond. Although annoying, my shadow can be helpful if it suits him, or if he's bored. Only partially existing on this plane of reality, like myself, he can manipulate a few small objects before tiring. More often than not he will just ignore me and do whatever he wants.

I really wish I could drive, but despite being seventeen and passing every test they throw at me, the state simply won't allow a person with my mental condition to drive. They are probably afraid that I'll see a large bug or something and swerve into an oncoming car. A valid concern. Well, at least there is plenty of entertainment as I walk home.

As I continue a terrified orange and white puff ball zooms past me as my shadow chases a cat up a large willow tree. _Bad choice there, kitty_. A rough patch of bark rapidly moves on the trunk, intercepting the cat. With the speed of a mongoose the cat is sucked into the tree, leaving only enough time for a quick yowl of pain and a single tuft of orange fur floating in the wind. My shadow finds the cat's death hilarious, laughing as the tree belches. I give the tree a wide birth.

A rumbling fills the street as a horde of creatures pursue a large stick like man who stands nearly ten feet tall, yet is skinnier than I am. Naked with strangely long limbs and no outward signs of gender, it races down the street with long frantic strides, trying to escape its pursuers. The creatures chasing him are ones I've seen before, lots in times in fact. They seem to be prodigious hunters in one of the other worlds. Moving more swiftly than most natural land animals, they have four strong legs, allowing incredible bursts of speed as they weave in and out of obstacles in the other world, cutting off the stick man's escape routes. They have a large upraised hump of tan, hairless flesh on their backs like an immense shark fin that wobbles slightly as they run. It appears to be more cartilage than bone, with hundreds of gold rimmed eyes along its surface. This must give them a complete field of vision and from the speed that those eyes dart around they must be excellent at tracking prey. Covered in soft gray fur, except the ridge on their backs they have no eyes on their bony heads, but who needs them when your back is covered in them? But they do have large mouths filled with several rows of sharp, hook-like teeth, more for seizing prey than scissoring flesh. These vicious traits are offset by the long, fluffy gray squirrel tail each of them have. I call them watchers.

I watch as they speed past me, moving through cars and trees like they aren't even there. Luckily for me they don't exist on my plane of reality but somewhere else altogether, in a secret place I can see partially into. They do avoid the willow tree though, it must exist both here and there.

Having closed the distance between them and the stick man, the nearest one leaps in a single great bound, its neck and head snaps out and clamps onto the man's leg. With a guttural cry of pain the stick man falls to his knees and is quickly covered in watchers. Vicious sounds of tearing flesh and splashes of crimson blood dominate the scene. The stick man is dead within seconds. Only the feasting remains, their tails swishing in excitement. I just keep on walking and try not to think about it. I've seen the show before.

As I start to move away something new happens as one of the Watchers pauses, looking directly at me. I can sense a change as a vast intelligence fills its features, like a vicious dog spontaneously developing Einstein's IQ. I freeze... _Can it see me?_

I'm usually invisible to creatures so far removed from my reality. They shouldn't be aware of me at all. It takes a single step toward me and I feel real fear for the first time. _What is going on?_

My shadow suddenly rears up behind the looming watcher, smothering it like an inky blanket woven from the darkness of the void. A few frantic struggles and then my shadow stands upright. The watcher is simply gone, as if it had never been there. Growling, the other watchers regard my shadow warily, and back away slowly, their eyes darting around as if unsure of what to do. With a lunge my shadow covers two more watchers in his darkness and the others flee. Well, that was new. I've never seen my shadow kill before. I'll have to ask him about it later.

I make it home by six and my mom is still out; getting wasted, no doubt. I walk in the door and am immediately bombarded by a rancid odor. It smells like the aftermath of an all-night kegger. House cleaning has never been high on my mother's to-do list, but this is bad even for her. The entire place, minus my bedroom, looks like a dumping ground. Empty pizza boxes and crumpled beer cans litter the floor and I have a hard time not stepping in anything sticky. The only thing not covered in garbage is the worn cloth couch and that has other unmentionables on it. Stains of various bodily fluids decorate the entire surface like a Jackson Pollack painting.

My stomach grumbling, I carefully wade through the debris to the refrigerator hoping to find something edible. Small chance of that, but miracles do happen. A large, freshly-dried puddle of vomit is in front of the stove. Chunks of partially digested food could be seen and it reminded me of spilled split pea soup. Strangely it looks like someone had dug through it to collect certain pieces. Was it Whisper?

At that moment Whisper comes trotting up to me, a large struggling cockroach clamped in his mouth. Whisper is a pure white ferret, sleek and beautiful. He's the size of a large cat and has startling deep blue eyes. Crunching down on the bug Whisper drops it at my feet, his long whiskers twitching as he pushes the bug toward me with his small pink nose and then rubs against my leg.

"Welcome home, Shifter. I have tried to keep the vermin at bay in your absence," Whisper says in a soft, purring tone. He's always called me that, ever since I rescued him.

Two years ago I was walking home from school and I stumbled across a ghastly sight. A massive white ferret, easily the size of a fully loaded semi truck was being swarmed by a group of watchers. Its bright, snow white fur was stained with crimson in at least a dozen different spots as it continued to fend off the pack. Curling in on himself the ferret lashed out with lighting quick strikes to any watcher that was too slow to evade. Yet for every watcher killed another one took its place, taking bites out of the ferret. Chewing on their bits of stolen flesh, blood soaking into the gray fur around their mouths they circled around the ferret looking for another tasty bite.

Even as I watched, the ferret's movements became slower as it grew weaker from blood loss and pain. My shadow was content to watch, laughing and clapping at every new splash of blood and growl of pain. Saddened by this beautiful creature's impending demise, I strode through the watchers, who didn't even feel my passage, laying my hand on the ferret's bloody flank. The act was instinctive with no real thought on my part. At first I was surprised that my hand didn't just pass through the ferret since he was so far into that other world, but I could feel his soft fur beneath my palm. As the watchers closed in for the kill, I tried something I've never attempted before. Getting an iron grip on his fur, I pulled him. I didn't physically pull him like pulling a child out of harm's way, instead I dragged him across realities. It took less than a second for me to drag the ferret from his reality into mine and as I did so he changed. Instead of a dying massive white ferret that easily outweighed me by several tons, I held a small cat size ferret dying in my arms. The watchers snarled and snapped at each other, confused about where the big ass dying ferret went.

I took him to a nearby vet, which refused to help until I reminded them who I was. They rightly decided that treating a ferret was better than dealing with the local nut job. All patched up they told me to take my rodent and get the hell out. Over the next few weeks I nursed him back to health and named him Whisper. My shadow wanted to flush him down the toilet or stick in him in the microwave, but I decided to keep him as a pet. After several weeks of nonstop chitterling from Whisper, I thought he might be trying to communicate, but I had completely pulled him into human reality so his abilities were limited, like my shadow. Experimenting I pushed him slightly out of sync with the human world, more to my level of reality. To my surprise he really could talk! He was still close enough to the human world for everyone to see but only I could hear him. Everyone thought he was just a dumb animal instead of becoming my only friend.

The encounter with Whisper taught me much about the other world and mine. I envision the world of humans as the surface of a vast, endless ocean. The other worlds are distinct, yet intertwined levels going all the way down to the sea floor. I stand ankle deep in the water while the rest of mankind walks on the surface without even getting their shoes wet. Those on the surface have no idea that there are hidden depths just below their feet. Those below are just as oblivious to the existence of humans, except for a few that exist across multiple worlds like that murderous willow tree. Some can even shift through the worlds, staying for a brief time in different realities like the face that ate my neighbor. I seem to be able to permanently bring others across like Whisper, and stabilize them in any level of reality I wish. I'm guessing that's why Whisper calls me Shifter.

"How nice," says my shadow, melding into the dark areas around us so even I can't locate him. "Tell me rat, did you chase down that fearsome beast before or after you spent all day licking your balls?"

"Silence, corrupt shade of a horse's ass! I need no lecture form the likes of you!" Whisper hisses back.

I smile. My shadow and Whisper often get into some really amusing slang matches. My smile fades as I look down at the puddle of vomit again.

"Whisper, did you eat something from this?" I ask, gesturing toward the puddle. Although intelligent, he still retains some animal behavior, and he looks malnourished.

My shadow cackles, "Yes rat, perhaps as an after afternoon snack? Did all those bugs make you thirsty? Did you drink from the toilet as well?"

We both ignore my shadow. "No Shifter, it was your mother."

"What happened?" I ask.

"More annoying men came about the dead man and you. So she rushed in here and took a bag full of round bugs and swallowed them all. After they left she brought them back up and collected them," Whisper says, obviously confused by this strange behavior. No doubt the "bugs" he is referring to were some type of drug. She has been taking some hard-core street drugs for a while now. I really need to leave this place.

Scooping up Whisper I place him on my shoulder. He curls around my neck nuzzling his face against mine, his soft fur giving me comfort. Grabbing a jar of pickles and some sandwich meat I head to my room, locking the door behind me. My shadow follows us in, sliding under the door like insubstantial nothingness. My room, unlike the rest of the apartment, is spotlessly clean. Perhaps in some strange type of rebellion I feel the need to keep my living area pristine since I spend so much time in here. The walls are covered in posters from all my favorite bands ranging from Metallica to the Beatles. I love all music. The only spot with nothing on it is the white ceiling, and even then, model airplanes and a reconstruction of the solar system dangle above me. I have a small, single bed in the corner and a computer desk with an old but functional laptop on it. Connected to the computer is an equally old stereo system to play my music. Besides the enjoyment I get from it, it also helps to drown out my mother's less savory activities. A single worn dresser near the door along with a closet filled with various trinkets comprises my worldly belongings.

Flopping down on the bed I open the package of meat, giving the first slice to Whisper. No doubt this is the best meal he has had since I was taken. Tomorrow is Saturday it might be nice to take him to the park. That thought reminds me of the walk home. _What about those watchers? And more importantly, what about my shadow?_

Looking for him I find him on the ceiling, hiding in the shadow of the planets above. I am about to ask him about the watchers, when a loud bang interrupts my thought process. "Jerry! Get out here you crazy little shit!"

Oh great, Mother is home.

### Chapter 2 – Mother

Dreading the coming encounter, I scoop up Whisper and place him on my shoulder once more. I briefly consider pretending I'm not home, but my closed door is an obvious sign to the contrary. Opening it I confront my mother. The feeling of a western showdown fills me rather than a tender reuniting with my mother after two weeks apart. She stands before me, an island of misery in a sea of garbage, with a look of utter loathing dominating her features. The look is one she keeps in reserve just for me. In her late-thirties she could easily pass for fifty, with thinning, straw blonde hair and a layer of belly fat from her drug habit and her waning career. If you even consider prostitution a career. In my youth she called them her 'boyfriends.' She still does, in fact. But back then my shadow found that hilarious and I was too innocent at the time to understand. Any innocence I had was lost long ago. Now looking at her I feel both disgusted and sad, like great potential was thrown away for a moment's pleasure. The funny thing is that she feels the same way. She often blames me and my birth as the event of her life that sent her into ruination. Whisper shows me more love than the used woman in front of me ever has.

She takes two stumbling steps forward, kicking off her high heels. Wearing tight clothes that might look attractive on a slim twenty-something, she staggers closer to me, reeking of alcohol. She looks awful, the worst I've ever seen her and it wasn't just the state of her dress. Torn leggings coated with stains that I'd rather remain ignorant of led up to a way too short black miniskirt. It's the kind of skirt that you don't even have to move to get busy. Blue veins crisscrossed up her legs, looking like fat worms just beneath her sickly pale skin. Squeezed into a white t-shirt that would take a surgical team to get off, her sagging breasts are forced into something that resembles their original shape. The shirt has pink letters on it spelling the word JUICY. I can't imagine anything less appealing. With plenty of wrinkles and prodigious crow's feet she looks like life had flushed her far too many times. Deep black and blue bags hang beneath her light blue eyes, just above narrow, dry lips coated in far too much red lipstick. She carries a large black purse that seems stuffed full, making it ready to burst at its seams. Every time I see her I just feel an empty pit in my stomach. I often wonder why I can't have a mother who loves me. Such a simple thing, one that many have and take for granted, yet I desired it more than a mountain of gold.

It takes her an abnormally long time to focus on me. Finally, her eyes rest on me. Immediately, an angry expression crosses her face, like I had just done called her a filthy name.

"You crazy little shit!" She screams. "Why did you have to go bring the cops here, you fucking bastard? I had to hide my stash."

I say nothing as Whisper hisses angrily at her. The sudden sound draws her attention and she squints, furrowing her brow in concentration. _Just how wasted is she?_ Seconds pass and at last her eyes narrow in recognition.

"I thought I told you to get rid of that rat," she says, stumbling a bit and tossing her purse on the couch. It lands with a solid thunk.

"It's not a rat," I say calmly. "It's a ferret and he's my friend."

"It's a rat, you crazy little shit! Throw the fucking thing out the window!" She demands and I bite back a harsh reply. There is no talking to her when she's like this. My shadow, who must have followed me out, laughs at her idea and urges me to obey. I continue to ignore him.

"Just how stoned are you?" I ask in a quiet tone, fearing the answer.

"Shut up, you crazy little shit," she slurs. "I got a sweet gig going and I don't want you messing things up." As she says this, a well-dressed man strolls through the still open door, holding a professional black briefcase. It's the kind of accessory one would expect from an expensive lawyer, and thus looks distinctly out of place in the trash heap that is my home. The man wears a cheap suit that nonetheless looks good, with a gun holster openly on display. He has broad shoulders with a large, clean-shaven head, marked by an interlinked series of bright red tattoos starting at his temple and running down to his chin. To complete the look he has dark unfriendly eyes; killer's eyes. Wordlessly he hands the briefcase over to my mother, who clutches it to her chest as if it were her child instead of me.

"Is he going to be a problem?" He says, gesturing toward me.

"No," declares my mother, disregarding my existence altogether with practiced ease. "He's just a crazy little shit. I'll complete the deal tomorrow."

"Fine," he says, turning to go. Suddenly he stops in the doorway and looks back, regarding my mother closely. "Don't use it."

An angry, red flush fills my mother's face but her tone remains respectful and even a little scared. "I won't," and I know in that moment she most definitely will. With a nod that promised terrible things he leaves our messy home, closing the door behind him. The loud click reverberates in the silence as the latch slides into position like a coffin lid sealing. _How bad is this going to be?_

"Go to your room, you creepy little shit. And stay out of my way," mother says, looking greedily down at the briefcase. "I wish the abortion had worked on you." The last part was a mutter but she always says it just loud enough for me to hear. I go. She once told me in an alcoholic fit that she kept trying to abort me early on. Yet for some odd reason nothing she tried worked. She cursed me, saying that I planned to destroy her life even then.

Returning to the sanctity of my room, I lock the door and move my dresser in front of it. I've found that securing my room is the best practice when this type of thing happens. Jumping off my shoulder Whisper lands on the dresser, glaring at the door toward the person still muttering on the other side.

"I don't like her, Shifter. She doesn't treat you well," Whisper says. "We should leave here soon. She smells of sickness and of corruption. I'm tired of hiding from her when you aren't around."

Privately I agree with him but I want to finish school up first and find a job. With my reputation and medical history it will be tricky to get someone to hire me. I might have to move away and lie on any application just to stand a chance.

"We'll leave soon," I assure him. "Just two more months and I'll graduate high school." Despite all my absences from school I've managed to pass every test and do enough make up work to graduate on time. It wasn't easy but once I am gone from here it will be worth it.

"School is boring," my shadow says, resting on the ceiling once again. "Let's just take what we want. No one could stop us. Perhaps we could sell the talking rat."

"Mindless spawn of a worm's ass!" Hisses Whisper, craning his neck to look at my shadow.

"Flea infested, inbred cousin of a weasel and naked mole rat," my shadow laughs as Whisper bobs his head up and down in rage. Being reduced to chitterling madness, Whisper leaps off the dresser onto my bed. He bounces up and down, trying hopelessly to reach the ceiling and his tormentor. My shadow just laughs at him, throwing bits of the flaking ceiling in his general direction. Despite the noise they are making it does make me feel a bit better. Funny how these two give me more comfort than my own mother ever has.

Sitting down at the computer, I fire it up to browse my music list. Feeling the need for some culture I find a folder of Mozart and load it into my media player. Just in time too. As the first note plays my mother's company arrives. Whenever she gets a large stash of drugs she invariabley invites a lot of her fellow consumers over. For most of the night they will party, getting so high they will be in danger of bumping into satellites. Sure enough, even over the sound of my music I hear them digging in. It's going to be a long night. I just hope that she doesn't go through too much of the goods and gets killed for it. Despite everything she's done, she is still my mother and that bond isn't easily discarded... at least not for me.

With Whisper curled up on my pillow and my shadow lingering in the darkness above, I lie on my bed trying to ignore the sounds leaking into my room over roar of my music. Feeling sad and dejected I pull Whisper closer to me, snuggling into his fur. He doesn't smell musky like most ferrets do. Instead he has an odor of warmth and love, like fresh bread still warm from the oven and dew in the morning. Finally, in the early morning I manage to fall asleep.

A loud shriek of pain wakes me up less than an hour later. My head is pounding with a headache and at first I think the cry of pain is my own. A loud thump against the wall and a fresh cry of pain brings me to full wakefulness. Sitting bolt upright in my bed I stare at the door, listening intently. My music must have exhausted its playlist because all I hear is an odd creaking as someone moves in the outer room. Usually by this time I would find a large group of semi-naked people strewn throughout the apartment, but this is something else, something ominous. The world feels wrong... distorted, as if realty were collapsing. I immediately feel nauseated.

Raising his furry white head, Whisper sniffs the air, his soft pink tongue darting back and forth. "Shifter, I smell blood. Lots of blood."

"Oh?" My shadow says, raising himself out of the ceiling. "Finally things are getting interesting."

Sliding toward the door, my shadow exits my bedroom between the door and its frame. A few seconds pass and I am debating on calling out to him when I hear his diabolical laughter ringing out in large, uncontrolled gusts. My heart sinks. Anything that amuses my shadow that much is bad, very bad. One time he described a fatal automobile accidently as a most excellent physics demonstration. I throw back the covers, silently getting out of bed. Moving on stealthy feet I slowly creep to the door with Whisper on my heels. Since my dresser still blocks the door, I lean my head against the wall trying to hear something besides my shadow. I think I hear a chewing sound, like a dog with a raw steak. Suddenly a low, inhuman growl echoes in the room, sending a chill down my spine. Needing to see what's happening I grab both sides of my dresser, trying to silently move it just enough to peer out.

No such luck. A raw scraping sound echoes in the silence. I curse softly as all noise abruptly ceases in the other room. Silence fills the air, thick and stifling. Unable to think of what else to do I open my door a crack, all that is allowed by my dresser, scanning the room beyond. I have a hard time seeing anything. All the lights have been extinguished and the thick, black curtains are drawn, keeping out the predawn light. Squinting, I lean even closer to the crack, trying to see anything. Suddenly a bloody, unrecognizable face fills my vision, nearly close enough to give me a kiss. Falling backwards, I land painfully on my ass but my eyes never leave that terrifying visage peering through the narrow opening. Even as it looks at me, I try to convince myself that I'm not really seeing it, something like can't be here in my world. With a cry of hunger worthy of a starving rat the face withdraws. For a heartbeat I allow myself the delusion that it is gone and that I am safe. How childish of me.

A powerful blow slams up against my door, fracturing wood and nearly toppling the dresser over. Rushing forward I pressed my back against the dresser, pushing for all I am worth. Another blow hits, jostling me as the unknown entity tries to force its way in. Whisper runs in a frightened circle, unable to do anything to help. I am rocked forward a second time as the thing on the other side crashes powerfully against the door. I know I can't hold on much longer. Either the door will give way or I will.

"Whisper, get my gun!" I yell over the noise of the creature's howls and splintering wood. I have a small pistol I managed to steal awhile back from one of my mom's boyfriends. I keep it well hidden along with a box of ammo, just in case.

"Yes, Shifter," Whisper says, sprinting to my open closet, his tail swishing back and forth as he digs through my meager belongings. Digging my heels in, I brace the door as best as I can. The next hit lands, sending my top drawer flying out, smacking my head. Underwear and socks spill around me as I throw the drawer aside, ignoring the pain. Whisper pulls my gun out of the closet and runs it over to me. I keep a fully loaded clip taped to the side of the gun for emergencies.

Another crash against the door nearly throws me out of the way as the wood above me splinters. Debris and a few drops of blood rain down on my head as I hear a frantic scrabbling. Ripping the tape off the clip I slam it home and load a round in into the chamber. The cool metal and heavy weight in my hand is a reassuring presence, steadying my nerves. The scraping above me vanishes and I imagine the unknown creature backing up to get another running start. Instead of bracing the door I scramble to my feet, jumping on my bed. I level the gun at the door, waiting. My heart thuds so loudly that I am certain it will give my position away.

"Whisper, get behind me. If anything happens to me, I want you to run," I say softly, waiting for the door to explode. I swallow with difficulty.

Before Whisper can reply the door bursts open in a shower of wood fragments, the dresser crashing to the floor. I search for my target in the doorway only to find the creature stuck part-way through with only its head and left arm inside the room. It is hard to tell who or what it is. It has eyes that are far too large and completely black, lifeless. Its nose recedes up into its skull leaving two small holes that whistle loudly with each breath. The creature's blank eyes travel quickly around the room, resting on me. It opens its impossibly wide mouth to reveal jagged, broken teeth with bits of red gore wedged between them. I can tell it's wearing some type of clothes but they are covered in so much blood that they are unrecognizable. A three-fingered, boney claw swipes back and forth in the air trying to reach me. It makes no move to shift the debris out of its path, it just reaches blindly toward me, mewling hungrily. Taking steady aim I pull the trigger. The gun jerks in my hand as a loud bang thunders in my ears. The kickback knocks me down, but glancing up I see that my shot had penetrated the thing's skull, splattering the surrounding area with chunks of brain and bone.

Staggering backwards with blood gushing from the open wound, the creature collapses in the doorway with a resounding thud. The rancid smell of hot smoke quickly fills my room and my ears ring from the shot as I slowly get to my feet.

"What marvelous fun!" My shadow declares as he re-enters my room, looking down at the body.

"Fun?" Whisper says angrily. "What if it had killed Shifter?"

My shadow shrugs as if he doesn't care the least bit and he probably doesn't. "Then I might finally be free to go where I please."

"Or you might vanish as if you never been," counters Whisper. This give my shadow pause. He has obviously never considered the possibility and looks alarmed at the prospect.

I begin to lay the gun down on my bed when my shadow speaks again. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. There is another one out there. It's preoccupied with feeding at the moment."

I freeze. _Another one?_ I am already starting to tremble all over and there's another one out there! Taking another difficult swallow I edge closer to the door, a death grip on my gun. Sure enough, I hear furious chewing and tearing sounds despite the ringing in my ears. Feeling the distinct need to relieve my bladder I peer through the open door, sweat stinging my eyes. Nothing. Whatever has the morning munchies is further inside. I will have to exit the safety of my room to find out where it is. I debate hiding in here until someone comes to my rescue. Surely the shot was heard by someone but the thought of my mother, possibly out there with the creature from the black lagoon spurs me into action. Unlike the creature I shot, I am small enough to squeeze through the door. Stepping over the body I enter the dim living room, my gun trembling in my hand. At first I see only darkness and the white of Whisper by my foot. Needing his comfort I pick him up, setting him on my shoulder. I never take my eyes off the darkness in front of me, expecting rushing, indistinct shapes to be everywhere.

I can smell it now, like Whisper had said, the rich coppery aroma of blood and gore. It's a whiff of wrongness that threatens to seize control of my body. I stand absolutely still. I try not to focus on the low growling that now seems far too close. Gradually my eyes adjust to the darkness as my heart thunders loudly and with alarming speed in my chest.

Bodies are everywhere. Most are torn apart but a few could still be sleeping, and thanks to the drugs they will never be aware anything is amiss. I imagine their surprise when they awaken to a 1970's chainsaw massacre scene. Pushing the image out of my head I proceed further into the room. The floor is disturbingly wet and my bare feet make squishing sounds with each step.

Quietly Whisper says, "There, in the corner by the couch."

Directing my gaze and gun toward the area Whisper indicated, I mentally try to ready myself. A hopeless attempt. I can't make sense of what I am seeing. My mind doesn't want to accept it. It almost looks like there is a person trying to revive a man on the floor, but on an instinctive level I know that is wrong. The way the figure moves with such eagerness and the spasmodic jerks from the body resting on the floor makes me feel ill. Worst of all are the sounds; a low growl and violent tug of its head, followed by wet chewing. The creature lifts its head and I see fresh blood leak from the corners of its mouth, pooling on its chin. Despite the low light I notice the unmistakable shape of a human nose as it disappears into the creature's maw. The sound of crunching cartilage and the smell of coppery blood is all it takes to lose the fight against the nausea. I bend over, heaving my meager meal from last night, the foul taste of bile driving all other concerns from my mind. Taking a deep breath that nearly makes me heave again I look up and my blood turns cold. The creature is looking directly at me.

We lock gazes and despite the darkness I can see animal hunger dominating its features. The creature is coated in so much blood that it looks crimson, almost demonic. Those large, soulless eyes meet mine and I fight to keep my stomach and bowels in line. I think it is female, though with those features and the fresh coat of blood it's hard to tell. Most of my attention is transfixed by the half chewed bit of flesh in her mouth, forgotten now that there is something fresher in the room.

I freeze, too terrified to do anything. Every survival instinct I have screams for me to move, to fight, to do anything, but it's no good. My body won't respond, like the connection from my brain to body has been cut. I might see weird things everyday but I have never been in any real danger. Hell, most of the time I think it's all in my head. Whisper's desperate pleas to shoot and my shadow's chuckle are far away and unreal, just like the creature before me had to be.

The unknown beast crouches low, ready to rend me limb from limb. Launching himself from my shoulder, Whisper is a white blur flying directly toward the creature, utterly fearless. In one quick movement it swats Whisper aside with a loud smack that resonates through the small room and my heart. Whisper ricochets off the far wall, landing on a mountain of trash, unmoving.

That finally breaks my paralysis. I forget my fear. I forget that I am small and scared. I forget about the smell of blood thick in the air and the dead bodies lying casually around me. All I know is that this creature just hurt the only friend I have ever had. Screaming my outrage I raise the gun to chest height, firing rapidly. I can't hear myself over the explosions of the gun but I know I am still screaming from the rawness burning in my throat. I don't care. I want an unlimited supply of ammo so I can shoot the creature until only quarter sized bits remain.

Finally the gun is empty and the monster lays dead, its chest a bloody ruin. Dropping the gun I run to Whisper. Relieved tears fill my eyes as he turns, looking at me with those deep blue eyes.

"Slightly more dangerous than those cockroaches," he says and I laugh in relief, picking him up and squeezing him tightly as he snuggles his face under my chin.

"Ah, pity the rat is still alive," my shadow says, a dark pool on the ceiling directly above me.

"Shut up!" I snap. He ripples, growing darker and more substantial as he gives me a mocking smirk from the center.

"I'm glad you finally took my advice and killed the bitch," my shadow says.

"What?" I ask in confusion.

My shadow, giving me a grin that can only mean trouble and gestures to the dead beast. Clutching Whisper to my chest I walk toward the creature. Unable to really make anything out in the dark I find a light switch and flick it on. The carnage around me is far worse than I could have guessed in the previous dimness. At least a dozen bodies lay about. It is hard to tell though, with bits and pieces of red, sticky flesh everywhere. It's as if the creatures tore football size pieces out of their victims and tossed them around during their feeding frenzy. The carpet is absolutely soaked in blood, coating my bare feet in a red sheath. But the horrors around me pale in comparison to what I am looking at. Despite the large eyes and snake like nose, the creature that I shot is, without a doubt, my mother.

### Chapter 3 – The Great Escape

I don't know how long I stood there staring at the corpse of my mother. It seems like years. I am unable to do or feel anything at all. I just look down at her as Whisper tries to get my attention. Even the rapidly approaching sirens fail to break my horrid fascination and dispel the shock of what has happened. I killed my own mother. I fight with the unreality of the situation. This can't be real.

A squeak of alarm from Whisper finally breaks my trance. Turning I glance around having a hard time seeing him through eyes filled with unshed tears. Whisper stands on the kitchen counter with my shadow looming overhead, peering into an open briefcase, his eyes wide. The same briefcase I had seen yesterday. Desperate for any distraction I go to his side, moving unsteadily in the surrounding carnage.

Whisper's fur is soaked in blood and for a wild second I think about giving him a bath. My mother lays dead by my own hand and all I want to do is give Whisper a bath. True madness threatens to engulf me. Not the simple madness everyone already thinks I have. Fighting off a hysterical laugh I circle behind the counter, looking into the briefcase.

I'm not sure what I expect; a case full of money or maybe a dozen bags filled with a fine white powder. The plastic bags are there, but instead of white powder they are full of yellow crystals the size of a large vitamin. Each has a small, multi-limbed bug in the center as if encased in amber. The weight of the world crashes down upon me and unlike the greek god Atlas I can't bear the strain. I slump against the refrigerator as Whisper snuggles close to me, purring like a cat.

"As pleasant as this all is, perhaps we should consider leaving now," my shadow says, looking down at me.

"Be quiet, excreted darkness of an octopus anus!" Hisses Whisper, snuggling even closer to me. "Can't you see Shifter is upset?"

"I'm only being practical, you worm ridden rat. Once the police arrive what do you think will happen to Shifter then, eh? He will be locked up in a tiny cell and animal control will take you away and cut off your balls. What will you spend all day licking then?"

With a start I realize he is right, at least partially. I can't run but Whisper can.

Hurrying to the closed curtain with Whisper in my arms I throw back the shades. Below, in the weak morning light, I see police cars racing toward my apartment, their sirens wailing. They will be here in minutes. Opening the window I set Whisper on the ledge. There is a fire escape that he can use to get down.

"Whisper, I need you to go to the park, to our favorite spot and stay there. If I'm not back in a few weeks go find some nice family to live with," I say, the unshed tears finally falling. They pour from my eyes, wet spots glistening on Whisper's fur.

"No Shifter, I won't leave you."

"You have no choice. Shadow is right. You can't be captured by animal control. Just go. I'll catch up after I'm free."

The approaching police cars screech to a halt in front of my building. "Go, Whisper! Now!"

"I will see you again, Shifter," he promises. With a leap Whisper lands on the fire escape and nimbly makes his way down.

"Finally, the rat is gone. Shall we make our exit as well?" My shadow asks.

"Shut up!" I yell at him.

Grinning he acts like I just tossed him a treat. "I like it when you are angry, I feel so much stronger," my shadow says.

Glaring at him I head to the door, preparing to play the part of a confused teen. A teen who just killed his own mother so she wouldn't eat him. I am in so much trouble.

On my way to the front door I pause, seeing my mother's small handbag lying by the couch. Miraculously it is untouched by the carnage surrounding it. Scooping up the small bag I open it and peer inside. It's stuffed with money in neat, tidy little bundles, probably for some kind of drug deal. Thinking quickly I head to the stove, placing the purse inside. Resting my left hand on it I shift it far enough away from reality so it can't be seen by human eyes. My shadow watches everything without comment. I get back to my feet feeling like a thief and go to the front door.

"I can't run and hide. They know all about me and they will find me. I have to show them I'm innocent to get out of this. You need to behave or things might go very badly." I open the door and step into the hallway. My shadow just shrugs, blending into the non-sentient shadows behind me. Leaving the door open I curl up in the hallway, allowing all the grief to overwhelm me at last.

When the police arrive a few minutes later they find me covered in blood, curled up and crying. I look like the victim that I am. I'm not sure what I am really grieving over. The possibility of losing Whisper forever? The fact that I just killed my own mother? Or how different my life will be from this point on. Perhaps all three, but mostly Whisper, my only friend.

Despite the fact that I pose no threat, after one look inside I am promptly handcuffed. More than one person loses their lunch after a brief glance inside. Hauling me to the squad car I had time for one last look at my home before the door was shut, the loud siren drowning out my bleak thoughts.

****

Hours later I'm sitting in a white nearly sterile interogation room. I stay silent and unmoving as I am approached by two cops. One is an older man with a strong, muscular build and a military style haircut for his wheat colored hair. He wears a comfortable white shirt with a striped tie and casual gray dress pants, boasting a badge of some sort on his belt. Probably a detective.

The other person is a woman with short, messy blonde hair that is so pale it almost looks white. She has cool blue eyes and nice full lips with a lean athletic figure that is mostly hidden by loose pin-striped dress pants and a long-sleeve gray shirt. Surprisingly young, she looks like a model who decided to kick ass instead of walking the run way. She has no visible badge but has a sidearm in a shoulder holster with a much small gun that would fit perfectly in her slender hand. She cradles a large coffee in both hands.

Approaching me confidently they look me up and down, debating whether being kind or hard asses would give them the answers they seek. The man sits downacross from me, his chair scrapping on the floor as he pulls it back.

"I'm detective Brist from homicide this is Officer Clifford," he says, gesturing toward the woman. She takes a wallet out of her jacket pocket, flashing her badge. "We have a few questions for you," the man continues.

I say nothing, not wanting to give anything away. I debate on asking for a lawyer while simultaneously wondering if it would do me any good.

"You are Jerry Price, correct?" He asks, looking at a notepad he had taken out of his shirt pocket. I simply nod not looking at him, focusing on the bits of dried blood on my hands wishing I could wash up. After a few seconds of silence I raise my head, facing him. His eyes widen at my appearance, after all I do look like a crazy person, but he recovers quickly.

"Jerry, a few weeks ago you witnessed a homicide and gave a rather creative explanation as to what occurred. I had a chance to talk to the officer on that case on my way here. I was told all about your... history at Greenbroch Mental Institution. I will need more from you than a carnivorous wall this time."

Officer Clifford continues to stand next to Detective Brist and says. "Detective, even if he has an extensive mental history we could still get some useful facts for this case. The crime scenes is similar to the others that have no connection to this boy." She turns to me, "Jerry, please tell me what happened."

I do. I'm not sure what is going to happen to me but at that moment I don't care. I need someone, anyone, to believe me.

"I woke up around 5am when I heard some screaming. So I went to the door and pulled my dresser away from it to take a peek."

"You barricaded yourself inside?" Detective Brist asks, suspicion thick in his voice.

"I always do that when my mom..." I say pausing, not sure what I want to say. "Parties." I finish lamely.

"Do you party also?" He asks mechanically taking notes on a small pad of paper.

"No." Then I quickly add, "You can have me tested."

"Well you're probably on lots of medication so I doubt it will tell us much," he grumbles.

"Detective Brist, you are not helping the situation. Go get a lab tech to collect a sample. I want the entire story without your constant interruptions," Officer Clifford says. He turns to her, not caring that I am listening or not believing I can properly understand him and the situation that I am in.

"Clifford, the boy has been in the mental hospital more often than home or school. From just a cursory glance at his file he has gone through tons of doctors. Several even quit their jobs after just one session with him. I seriously doubt you will get anything from him, or at least anything that makes sense. You're better off just sending him back to the institution and going back to the crime scene instead. Let the professionals at Greenbroch help him."

Gazing coolly at Brist she replies, "A witness with mental issues is still a witness and we need every scrap of information. Please go and get a lab tech for a blood sample."

"Ok, but I'm telling you, you're wasting your time," the detective says, standing up and walking out of my line of sight.

"Thanks," I say. "This will be hard enough."

"I'm not judging you on your mental history, I just need a few facts. Did you see the briefcase with the yellow crystals in your home?"

"The one on the counter? Yes, my mother got that from someone yesterday afternoon."

"Who did she get it from?"

I shake my head. "I don't know. My mom does a lot of drugs. I never want anything to do with them." I feel a bit guilty for saying it, like I'm betraying her memory.

"What did he look like?" She asks, taking a pull from her coffee.

"Very big, like he played a lot sports," I say thinking back. "He was bald or shaved his head with red tattoos on his face running down to his chin."

"Do you have a name or anything they said \---?"

She is interrupted by the detective returning with a man in a white lab coat trailing behind him. Excited, Clifford looks at him and says, "The same guy with the tattoos. We might have something here." The man in the lab coat sits his small kit on the table, taking a blood sample while the two continue to talk like I'm not even here.

"You can't trust anything he says," counters detective Brist. "He might not be lying on purpose, but anything he says will be in question. No prosecutor will allow him to testify, provided that he didn't kill them himself." Raising his hands at a look from Clifford he continues, "I agree, it is unlikely, but it should be considered."

Seeing who is potentially on my side I quickly chime in. "The tattoo man told my mother not to use it, if that helps." They pause, considering me carefully.

"Did you kill them?" The detective asks me.

"I shot the man at my bedroom door when he tried to kill me and...." I pause, shameful tears filling my eyes and my voice cracking. "And my mother when she came at me...she was eating the man on the ground." They look disgusted but not surprised, as if they expected such an answer. "I don't know what happened to their faces and arms though," I add.

At this they pause, regarding me closely. "What do you mean?" Officer Clifford says.

"The claws their hands changed into and the way their faces look like snakes," I say.

"Told you, Clifford. The kid is crazy and he did kill two people in self defense. Let's just lock him up at Greenbroch. Let the state deal with him. He needs long term mental health care. It's out of our hands. Besides he is still a minor. Let's just ignore this lead and focus on the hard evidence," Detective Brist declares in expected defeat getting up from his chair.

Agent Clifford frowns at me. Shaking her head, she seems resigned. "The first eye-witness I get and he's a loon." She sighs, taking another pull from her coffee. "I need more coffee to deal with this."

After that things go predictably for me. I am carted off to the Greenbroch Mental Institution again, a personal record for me. Brought back within twenty-four hours and, from the reception I get I think my stay might be much, much longer this time.

As the first week passes by doctors come and go, taking only quick glances at me. Ensuring my physical needs are met, they make no real attempt at conversing with me. With only my shadow for company I eat and sleep, waiting for something to happen. After another week, Detective Brist comes by and takes my complete statement. When I ask him when I will be released he gives me a piteous look. Two more weeks and a case worker comes by informing me that I won't be let out of my padded room until I turn eighteen, at which time I will be reevaluated. Apparently I have been classified as dangerous to myself and others. A dark gloom settles over me and I stop eating, refusing to talk with anyone, even my shadow. After my second day of refusing all food, my shadow, having grown tired of my company, spends as much time away as possible. I don't care. I don't care about anything. Mostly I try to sleep, burying myself in blissful nothingness. I never dream when I sleep. It's like I cease to exist which is exactly what I want.

In the middle of the night I am abruptly forced out of my empty state. At first I think my hunger woke me but then I hear a scratching in the window high above. Tonight I believe I am delirious for I see a huddled, white shape the size of a cat staring down at me. Not sure if I am really seeing what I dearly hope I am, I stand up on weak legs and approach the window.

"Whisper?" I say, not daring to believe.

"Yes Shifter, I have come to rescue you," he says, giving me a wide ferret grin.

"WHSIPER!" I shout not caring who hears me.

"Silence," hisses my shadow, passing through the window next to Whisper. "All you do is sit there and mope. It's more pathetic than the white rat here licking his privates all day. At least he's doing something. We are getting you out of here since you are too incompetent to do it yourself."

"I do not lick my privates all day tar puddle," Whisper says giving my shadow a nasty look. "I'm merely cleaning my fur."

"Your fur down there is sparkling clean then, isn't it?" My Shadow says.

I laugh, my first real laugh since the night everything went wrong. I laugh my relief at not being alone anymore. It is mad, frantic laughter, the kind I hear all too often here.

"Stay here, Shifter. We will return shortly," Whisper says, leaping from the window out of sight. My shadow moves to the door and slides under it. I am left alone. But for the first time since I got here I don't feel despair or all consuming depression. I feel hope.

I wait for almost twenty minutes. I'm so excited that I dance back and forth, waiting to hear something. Finally when I feel like I am about to lose all bladder control like a hyperactive dog I hear a jingling of keys along with soft cursing from the other side of the door.

"Careful, flea bag, don't drop those keys."

"Shut up, shit stain. I'm working on it."

"Well work on it better, mole spawn. We need to hurry."

"I can't reach it, you do it."

"I have trouble touching too much in this world except for brief moments. Stretch your neck close to the lock and I'll take over."

Some scrabbling and scratching on the door followed by a sharp click and the door swings open, pushed by Whisper's furry front paws. Dropping back to all fours he runs to me. I want to pick him up and hug him, never letting go, but the straight jacket won't let me.

"Shifter, you look awful and smell awful," Whisper says, eyeing me critically.

Dropping to my knees Whisper charges me. Leaping onto my chest he nuzzles his face to mine. I am so happy I thinkt my heart will burst from the intensity of it. Tears fall in fat drops from my eyes, splashing on Whisper's ears and fur. I would have been content to stay like that forever but my shadow interruptes.

"Shall I leave you two alone so you can make out?" My shadow asks, swinging in behind me to study my restraints.

"You're just jealous," replies Whisper, who reluctantly disengages, joining my shadow behind me.

"Lay down and we can free you. I'm tired of being here. The residents are all insane. It's no fun tormenting them," my shadow says.

I gracelessly fall forward, allowing my friends easier access to my bonds. _Friends?_ I've never thought of my shadow as a friend before. He is more like the darkness inside me manifested in the real world. As if my dark nature is too great to be contained. Whatever the case may be I am glad he is here now.

Two minutes later I am free. I immediately scoop up Whisper, hugging him tightly as my shadow drifts into the hallway.

Placing Whisper on my shoulder I head into the hall, closing my cell door behind me. The hallway is what you would expect from any place with the word "institution" in it. Plain, nonthreatening white walls stretch before and behind me with humming fluorescent lighting. I know from experience that we are in the back end of the asylum and the only way out will be through the front gate that is guarded at all times.

"How did you get in here, Whisper?" I ask.

"There was a small hole in the wall. It led to some pipe works and I found my way here. I've been scouting the area for the last few days. You are much too large to fit that way. We will have to go out the front." Resting my hand on Whisper I feel how abnormally thin he is. He must have gone hungry trying to get me out while I did nothing at all. Shame creeps up my face. I resolve to get out of here and take care of my friends.

Heading around a corner I keep close to the wall, staying as silent as I can. I kept expecting a security guard to appear before me, taser in hand. I pass gray steel doors similar to mine with small glass windows, their residents hoot and holler at me like I am the show of the century. I ignore them until a blood curdling cry echoes all around me, making me jump backwards. _What the hell was that?!_ It can't be human there was too much evil in it. It came from the room directly across from me. Cautiously I make my way over to the window, peering in.

The room is dark but the man in chains seems to produce his own reddish haze. It's as if his blood were vaporizing on his very skin, surrounding him in a wet, red cloud. He's a small man, even smaller than me with lank, dead-looking, long black hair hiding his features as he hangs limply in his chains. I am about to turn away when his head suddenly snaps up and I am looking into a pair of red eyes lit with the fires of hell. The air around him distorts like looking at the world through a wide curved mirror. My shadow zooms out of this room. Apparently he went in for a closer look.

"We should go, this one is dangerous. He has the reek of pure corruption about him," my shadow says. For the first time in my life I hear something besides his standard mocking tone. My shadow has seen everything, from packs of watchers to snakes one hundred meters long and this is the first time he has shown any traces of fear. Leaving the man behind, we near the corner where Whisper and my shadow stop me.

"Shadow and I will make a distraction. When we call for you run. Get out here immediately and wait for us around the next corner," Whisper says, hopping down from my shoulder.

I nod at them and my shadow goes first. A minute later he calls out to Whisper who whips around the corner, his nails clicking rather loudly to my ears as he goes. I wait, counting the seconds. Once I reach sixty the lights go out and colorful cursing can be heard along with the squeak of metal on metal. More cursing erupts along with a startled cry and a heavy thud.

"Now, Shifter!" Cries Whisper.

Sprinting silently down the darkened hall I move like a marathon runner to the chain gate separating this section of Greenbroch off. The door, usually magnetically locked, is ajar and the security counter surrounded by a thick metal cage is empty. Lights dance back and forth as the guard, busy with his flashlight, is fiddling with something under his desk. The loud hiss of static from the monitors that surrounded his station feels rather ominous. Walking swiftly and silently to the unwatched gate I keep expecting a shout of protest. Moving the gate only the minimum amount necessary to fit through I squeeze by, rounding the corner to where Whisper is already waiting. I see that all the lights are off in the entire complex. The renewed cursing of the guard reaches my ears.

Grinning I pick up Whisper, heading toward the front doors when running feet and the crackle of hand held radios fills the air. Spying a bathroom door I rush inside, silently shutting the door behind me. Moments later heavy footsteps pass by and I see dancing trails of light from under the door. A voice rings out, distorted by the speaker it pours out of, "Check the inmates. The power failure might have released a few of the doors."

A pause then a loud beep reaches my ears, and I nearly jump. "Ok, we are on our way. Keep two men at the gate at all times. We don't want anyone to escape." Their voices are no longer distinguishable as they get further and further away.

I let out a relieved breath nearly screaming in surprise as my shadow speaks from right next to me.

"The entrance is free of guardians. All have left to deal with the power issue. I don't really understand why. The dark is so pleasant."

Not commenting I exit the bathroom, doing a fast walk to the main doors. I desperately want to run but I am afraid the sound might travel. Heart thudding in my chest I just make it to the doors when a man's scream reaches my ears, followed by the now familiar sounds of gunfire. Not daring to look back I break into a full run, bursting onto the cement sidewalk. The cool night air fills my lungs, rejuvenating me as I run off into the night.

"What is going on in there?" Whisper says over the sounds of my pounding feet and labored breathing.

"I don't know," I pant thinking of the man with red haze. "And I don't want to know."

Getting home is nerve-racking. About ten minutes into my escape sirens fill the night air and I can't help but imagine that they are all coming for me. Taking cover behind some shrubs I watch as four police cars zoom past, lights flashing. The mess at the institution must be much worse than I originally feared. Guilt tugs at me. I hope no one died because of my escape. Once the road is clear I return to my path after picking up a few pieces of quartz from the gravel beneath me, a useful incentive for later. Jogging slightly I sincerely hope my excitement is done for the day.

An hour later I stand outside my building, looking at the horizon. The dim rays of morning light illuminate the landscape in front of me like a cheap oil painting.

Moving out of sight of prying eyes with Whisper on my shoulders I place my palm against the building's gritty exterior. Closing my eyes I focus, sending my shifting power out across the various levels of reality that the building occupies. What I have determined is that all objects exist; at least to some degree in the other worlds. But if I look deep enough it's gone, like it was erased from reality. I suppose for anything living down there it simply didn't exist at all. This applies to people as well. We exist in more than just the world we perceive and just because we can't see something don't mean it can't see us. Just ask my neighbor. Humans do not occupy much space being both narrow in perception and reality. I seem to be the exception to this rule. I perceive and interact with more than the world my body occupies. The being I am now trying to contact exists in the next distinct level of reality but can freely travel here. He's from a desolate world that was little more than a endless desert, no wonder he perfered this world. A few seconds later I am rewarded when a basketball sized face forms in the red brick in front of me. I smile.

I've always gotten along well with the beings that live in the walls and streets. As a general rule they are friendly and cheerful, spreading gossip like 1950's housewives. Watching peoples private lives and activities can make for great entertainment apparently. Until that large one ate my neighbor I thought they were harmless. I often converse with this particular face, which is one of the many reasons people think I am mad. Normal people don't talk with walls.

"Hey Brick, how's it going?" I ask.

Generally these beings are nameless, traversing between buildings in ways I don't understand. They coexist with the walls themselves, eating small portions before moving on. Since this particular face has grown rather attached to me he allowed me to name him. At first he wanted to be known as Sinbad or McStone, the influence of too much television. In the end I convinced him "Brick" was cooler and more accurate. Curiously enough I find the fact that he can watch TV while I can't to be strange. It's not because I don't own one, rather that the emissions from the screen exist entirely in the human level of reality and my eyes don't function there. Computer screens, ATMs, and TV are all blank displays to me. I can hear them just fine. I guess that the sound waves travel across dimensions easier.

"Jerry, Whisper, good to see you again. Things have been crazy around here."

"You have no idea!" Exclaimes Whisper from my shoulder.

Brick grins at him. Unlike the face that ate my neighbor this one holds no trace of malice, just genuine warmth. Adopting the characteristics of the material around him, Brick's face is coated slightly in dirt and dust, including his granite eyes but not his surprisingly white teeth.

"Did you see what happened to Mr. Sullivan from 3C?" I ask, curious about the differences between the two faces.

Brick's face darkens, a look of intense anger filling his granite colored eyes. "The intruder. Oh yes, I found him after he had his snack. Got several of my relatives together and we managed to drive him away. Can't believe the damn thing managed to invade my territory without me noticing it."

"Perhaps you were too busy imitating the rat by licking your balls all day." My shadow remarks, condensing near Brick as a spot of darkness. "Or do you call them your family stones?" He chuckles darkly.

Frowning at my shadow Brick says, "Oh, you're back too. Well I guess I have to take the bad with the good. And my autonomical makeup is no concern of yours."

Not wanting them to get distracted I quickly interrupt. "What was it? I've never seen one before."

Turning back to me Brick's features soften a bit. "It's like an angler fish. They live in the buildings like my kind does, preying on the occupants. It's rare for one to be that close to your reality, Jerry. They don't chase down prey but lure them in close with small, fascinating objects and the like." The pink elephant I think. It was trying to lure me in and got my neighbor instead. Another question occurs to me.

"How do you know about Angler Fish?"

"The old lady in B5 watches animal planet for half the day. The other half she watches porn." He says, grinning at me.

"Can you scout out my apartment to see if it's all clear?" I ask, pushing the mental image out of my head.

"Sure," Brick says, looking closely at me. "I might need some incentive though." He gives me a wide grin.

Giving my own smile I reach into my pocket, retrieving the quartz I had picked up earlier. Bring my hand close to the wall Brick opens his mouth and a dark, rather dexterous tongue slithers out, nimbly scooping the bits from my palm. Brick's eyes light up with pure delight as he chews the quartz. Moaning slightly in pleasure he recedes back into the wall leaving no trace behind.

"Shifter, what is porn?" Asks Whisper, looking at me, confused.

"Ugh..." I begin, but my shadow interrupts.

"It's like when I'm stuck watching you lick your nether regions all day," my shadow exlains.

"You watch me?" Squeaks Whisper in a high alarmed tone.

"Sometimes." My shadow says, shrugging. "You really should clean other areas also."

"I do clean other areas!" Protests Whisper, who I think is turning a bit red under his fur. "Spending five minutes on the rest of your fur doesn't count. I'm surprised you didn't suffocate down there. Can you breathe out your ass? Or were you cleaning that also?" My shadow grins mischieviousy at Whisper, obviously enjoying his discomfort.

Whisper is spared the embarrassment of replying by Brick's return. "Your apartment is clear. No one is inside. Also C2 is currently empty. Chucky got called into work so you can get some fresh clothes and food from there. He won't be back for some time," Brick says, eyeing Whisper and me critically.

"Thanks Brick, you're the best," I say, turning to leave. At the end of the alley a plain, nondescript man is watching me like I am crazy. It might be the fact I am in a dirty white uniform with the words "Greenbroch Mental Institution" stenciled in red on the back, or how I look so unkempt and hungry, or the fact I was just talking with the wall and a ferret, while addressing my own shadow.

Waving to him I yell, "I was just talking to a Brick in the wall." My shadow laughs as the man hurries out of sight. Is it any wonder everyone thinks I'm mad?

Entering the building without any additional encounters the silence in the early morning is rather reassuring. Standing outside of C2 I wait patiently as my shadow slipped under the door. One second there is a black pool at my feet, like someone had spilled a jar of ink then it recedes, moving past my line of sight. With a sharp click the lock is undone and I enter the dimly illuminated space before closing the door in my wake.

I really should pick up some more treats for Brick. This is exactly what I need after so much neglect. The apartment is spotlessly clean and has warm, comfortable furniture. My stomach decides my priorities and I move to the refrigerator. It is a boring shade of white that is standard issue for these apartments, although it is in much better condition than my own. Opening the door I discover that it is well stocked. Vegetables of all sorts occupy the lower two shelves, while milk and a half empty bottle of cola rest on top. The contents of the middle three shelves draws most of my attention. Hotdogs, some homemade fried rice and a leftover bucket of KFC fill my vision and then my stomach a few minutes later. Whisper and I tear into the KFC in a manner that would make a starving wolverine nervous, devouring it in minutes. Giving the package of hotdogs to Whisper I make do with the fried rice, moaning in pleasure at every mouthfull. We eat everything cold, not wanting to spend the time required to heat it.

A few minutes later, feeling vastly better with a full belly and some borrowed clothes, I scoop up Whisper and head home a few doors away. My good feeling doesn't last long.

I stand before my door, the place of so many dreams and nightmares, tying to muster the courage to enter. For a brief moment I wonder if my mother's corpse was still in there. I imagine the body turning putrid and rank from long exposure. A ridiculous thought. I'm sure the police sent her to the morgue shortly after they were done at the crime scene but still I wonder and hesitate. "Well, you going or what?" My shadow asks with an annoyed huff.

Nuzzling my neck from his perch on my shoulder Whisper purrs loudly in my ear. Taking strength from his presence I take a deep breath, hold it, and open the door. No demonic whispers reach my ears, no foul odor assaults my nose, and no ghastly mayhem etches itself onto my retinas. In fact, there was nothing offensive at all. The place has been scrubbed clean either by the police in search of evidence or the landlord preparing to rent it out. I've never seen the place so clean. Despite my own tendency toward cleanliness I feel saddened at the sight, as if this is absolute proof that a chapter of my life has come to a close. Not wanting to linger I head to the stove. Like everything else it is spotlessly clean, but neither bleach nor any amount of scrubbing could reach into the other worlds. Focusing my sight in the depths of the stove I find my goal. Sure enough, I find the untouched bag full of money. Reaching inside I pull the small handbag back into my level of reality. I hope this is enough to keep me out of jail and get me a place to live for awhile. I just finish retrieving the bag when a paniced voice fills the air.

"Jerry, bad guys are coming!"

Startled I bang my head on the top of the stove. Yelping, I yank my head out, already feeling a lump on my skull. Brick is above me, no longer the dull red color of the bricks outside, instead his features take on the white and green tiled wall of the kitchens surface.

"They were in another apartment. They moved in shortly after you were taken away! I didn't know they were waiting for you, I swear!" Brick is scared. _Who are these men? What do they want with me?_ Looking at the money I suddenly have a horrible suspicion.

Leaving the handbag in the stove I stand upright as my door opens. It doesn't bang open like someone breaking in, nor is it a slow creaking as portrayed in horror books. Instead it is opened casually, like the people on the other side have every right in the world to be in my former home. Dressed in expensive tailored suits the men look like dangerous professionals.

The taller of the two steps forward. He has a slightly larger build than his comrade and more lines in his face. Directing his uncaring gaze toward me he takes in everything about me in an instant. He clearly isn't impressed. By the dismissive look I get he ranks me at a threat level similar to a teething toddler.

"Are you Jerry Price?" He asks in a husky tone that suggests that his voice doesn't get much use. I debate about lying. These guys might be waiting for just anyone to show up but more likely they were waiting for me. No doubt they know what I look like.

"Yes. What do you want?" I ask, preparing to dive behind the counter if they drew their guns.

"Why did you say that the people changed after taking the drug?" The tall man asks coldly, studying me carefully.

It's not the question I expect. No one else could see the change. How do they know? Not sure how to answer and flustered by their presence I stupidly tell the truth. "I saw them."

The tall man turns to his partner who gives him a simple nod. That short brisk nod could have meant anything, anything at all. But just as I know the sun will rise tomorrow I am sure it means I am dead. Drawing their guns in unison they level them at my chest.

Despite the fact that I was anticipating such an attack their cool demeanor and seeming indifference to the life they are about to take leaves me dazed. _How can they be so calm? Am I seeing things again? Was this real?_ My life almost flashes before my eyes in the world's most fucked up replay reel but I am saved by my shadow and Brick. Appearing beneath the foot of the tall man Brick opens his mouth wide, sucking in his entire foot. With a cry of surprise the man topples to the ground, his shot going wide with a muffled thump. Brick doesn't bite or eat the foot, he just holds firm while the man watching in horror, sees his foot sink into the floor without making a mark. The other man, not daunted by the felling of his companion, takes steady aim at my head when my shadow attaches himself to his sunglasses. Cursing, the man bats at his face, confused at the sudden blindness.

"Do something, you fool!" Yells my shadow as he switches from the sunglasses to the gun, pressing the safety switch. Heart pounding I dash toward the first man, unsure of what I was going to do. I feel like a slow, lumbering idiot who can't even tie his shoes let alone take out two professional killers. Aiming his gun at me he presses the trigger only to find that nothing happens.

In a graceless and rather pathetic move I tackle him. Tumbling to the floor we collapse on top of his comrade who has finally managed to free his foot from Brick. Shoving his gun away with both arms I completely fail to block his left fist as it connects with my head. A ringing sensation fills me, blurring my vision but I don't release his arm as he continues to strike my face. Pain explodes at each blow and I taste coppery blood as my lip splits open. I can do nothing more than hold his arm back.

Joining the fray, Whisper bites down on the man's nose, which finally makes him stop hitting me. He lets out a cry of pain, desperately tugging on Whisper who stubbornly refuses to let go. Head throbbing I turn to see the other man now on his feet, aiming his gun at me. Suddenly utter darkness coveres his face as if the light had been extinguished forever. Dropping his gun the man tries to pull at the insubstantial nothingness that is on him.

"Fuck!" The man cries only to have my shadow flow into his mouth. Covering his mouth like a child who just swore loudly in class he is unable to stop my shadow. Eyes wide and frightened beyond reason he tears open his shirt and furiously claws at his belly, leaving long, blood fingernail tracks. Swelling, his stomach grows large and a disturbing ripple like bad gas rolls over his flesh. He heaves over, vomiting out his lunch along with an inky darkness.

Fearing for myself and Whisper I do the only thing that comes to mind. Reaching out to both men I place a single hand on each and shift them. I've shifted plenty of objects before but never have I felt such resistance. It's like reality is anchoring them here, unwilling to let go. But I do it. I shift them so far that the building is no longer there for them.One moment they were in their standard reality, where logic and reason rule, the next they are falling into an unfamiliar landscape. Their screams fill my ears as they crash in a tumbling mess onto soft black sand. A wave of exhaustion hits me from the shifting.

"Where did they go?" Asks Whisper looking around for the men. To him and Brick it seems as if they simply vanished, their vision is more limited at viewing other levels of reality than my own, my shadow however cackles madly. Looking down I focus my sight to the level of reality I sent the men into. It is the next distinct level of reality. Both are alive but definitely not well. Outwardly I see no broken bones or limbs at odd angles but I hope they still have their guns handy... to use on themselves.

I try to avoid looking into the other world around this apartment. I find it absolutely terrifying. The normal, everyday landscape of our human world, which is filled with buildings and scattered trees where children play on tire swings, is gone. None of that even registers in this nightmarish world. A blood red sun illuminates endless stretches of sand with thick black tentacles, taller than a man, sporadically sticking out of the sand with hundreds of rows of small, sharp-hooked barbs on each. They thrash about as if caught in a violent wind yet no dust or sand stirs. Most of the sand is the typical type you expect to see at the beach, colored red by the sun. A few patches of shiny black sand exist in sparse locations. Looking into that world now I really hope the tentacles grab the men before the black sand does. My shadow, still cackling, drifts through reality for a better, close up view.

The men gape at my shadow who is more substantial at that level of reality. He looks like a dark silhouette that haunts your nightmares, rippling with menace. Laughing his glee he dances around the men as they watch, terrified. Soon their attention is fixates on a more immediate issue. I watch as one of the tentacles finds the tall man, latching onto his leg with the sound of tearing cloth and flesh. Screaming his pain he thrashes wildly as the hook barbs draw blood. Suddenly he's dragged out of the black sand, deeper into the desert. The sand ripples and parts as the tentacle glides through. With a great hoist the tall man is lifted into the air, fully suspended by the enormous tentacle. Struggling like a worm on a hook the tall man's leg is ravaged, with blood soaking his clothes and face. If I thought he was terrified before when the tentacle first grabbed him now I realize how wrong I was.

Directly below the man the sand parts and an immense maw appears. The man shrieks at the horror below him, and I can almost feel the moment his mind snaps, unable to process the fate before him. Stunned, I watch as what could be best described as a large insect mouth appears out of the sand. A large black beak parts as several arm-length appendages, with far too many joints, reach out of the chasm and begin pulling the man into it. His shrill screams of terror can be heard across realities. The damn thing doesn't even take a single bite, it just keeps slowly, almost lovingly, swallowing the man. Even as the mouth slowly closes on him I can still hear his muffled cries of terror. It doesn't chew him but takes him down whole... lucky bastard. The man in the sand was having it much worse.

My shadow, dancing around the man, seems disappointed that he can't be next to both men as they die, but he settles on the man in the black sand. I've had occasion to watch the black sand do its thing. I've avoid looking into this level of reality since.

I turn away, bringing my sight back to my level of reality and tune out my shadow along with the dying man. Scooping up Whisper I get back to my feet.

"He's gone Whisper. I shifted him."

"Oh, can he come back?" Whisper asks.

"He fell into the black sand," I answer.

"Stupid fool, he's in for a painful death," Brick says.

"Thanks, Brick. You saved my life," I say gratefully.

"No problem, Jerry. You're my favorite human. All the others can't even talk to me. Once you get settled in at a new place I'll join you there. Seems like you could use an extra pair of eyes." Grinning at me he adds, "It will, of course, cost you some more quartz. Can't let people think I'm cheap."

"You're worth every piece," I say and Whisper nods his agreement.

Returning to the kitchen counter I retrieve the handbag full of money, and after brief hesitation I also scoop up one of the men's guns from where it laid abandoned on the floor. One of the men must have dropped it before I shifted them. Suddenly my shadow appears before us. I swear he is darker and thicker than usual as if he is drinking in the dying man's pain.

"Oh, let's stay here for the night. Such pleasures are to be had down below," my shadow says, appearing to shimmer and ripple slightly.

"Stay here?" Says Whisper, outraged at the mere mention of it. "Forget it!"

"I wasn't talking to you, rat," my shadow says slowly, almost lethargically, like he had just had a large meal and was content to just sit and watch life drift by.

"No," I say. "I don't want to listen to screaming all night. Besides it isn't safe."

My shadow seems disappointed. "Fine I'll catch up later. I want to savor this some more." Then he is gone, presumably to continue to watch the man die. I don't watch, although some small part of me agrees with my shadow and delights in the thought of the man's suffering.

### Chapter 4 – The Heist

"It will be five hundred each month, due on the first. If you don't pay by the seventh I will toss your scrawny ass out," the burly, balding man in front of me says, as he continues to struggle with the locked door before him. I am in a rundown part of the city that makes my former home look like a honeymoon suite at the Ritz. The hallway is composed of ancient plaster or more likely asbestos with large chucks missing here and there. Wet spots, along with the pungent odor of mildew permeates the walls. Even I, who is accustomed to a modest, rough living style, am appalled by the conditions here. My desire to remain undetected by both the police and whoever sent the men to my former home has a steep price.

Finally managing to unlock the door he does a hip thrust and the door swings open, creaking loudly. Entering in a wobbling trot that exposes his hairy belly he gestures for me to follow. I reluctantly comply. Like the hallway, the lightly furnished room reminds me of something a fleeing refugee might take shelter in rather than an 'affordable furnished apartment' according to the advertisement. The door from the hallway enters into a combination mudroom and kitchen the same color as the hall preceding it, continuing into a small living area with an offensive green shag carpet. On my right side are coat hooks and gouges where coat hooks had previously been. On my left is a kitchen counter with a filthy, white laminate top surrounded by a broken, gold-colored trim. The kitchen is small but would serve well enough if the appliances are working. Gently setting my recently acquired duffle bag down on the counter, I inspect the kitchen appliances. Both the stove and refrigerator are old and yellowed from age. They have bits of exposed rust on the corners like they had just been retrieved from the junkyard. Despite this the refrigerator is cold and the stove is hot. I nod in acceptance. I doubt he would have anything in better condition.

The burly man just stands there, glaring at me like my brief inspection was a personal insult to him. "It all works," he declares, crossing his hairy, muscular arms over his large girth. I nod in understanding but continue my inspection.

Leaving the discolored green tile floor behind me I step onto the matted carpet of the living room. A two-seat plaid, cloth couch is on my right and an old pressboard entertainment stand is on my left. Dust covers its surface except for a clean square area in the center where a TV previously resided.

Moving to the first room on the left I open the door and find a small bathroom. It has all the basics. A calcium stained tub, a toilet with mold along the edges, and a small sink that is actually in good condition. Satisfied that everything is in working order I move on to the final door. There I find a small bedroom with a new twin-size bed. The new bed surprises me. Perhaps there was too much blood or other bodily fluids on the old one to clean it. I'd rather not know. The only other furniture in here is a single white dresser with peeling paint chips that flaked off like dandruff.

"It will do," I tell the man who is now very impatient with me. I count five hundred and present it to him. His eyes bug out at the sight of the money, as if he was surprised I could actually pay him. His temporary surprise fades quickly, replaced by a toothy grin as he seizes the money with fat, sticky fingers. He makes a great show of counting the money before he is satisfied. Handing me the key he turns and leaves. I wait for a minute just to make sure he is gone before opening my duffle bag. A relieved Whisper climbs out, sniffing the air around him.

"Finally, he's gone," Whisper says, stretching out his long, slim body. Swinging his head around Whisper walks to the edge of the counter, his claws clicking with each step. With a great leap he lands nimbly on the tile floor below. Free to explore Whisper sniffs around all the corners, investigating everything. I swear ferrets are more curious than cats.

Digging in my bag I retrieve a plastic bag filled with the money from my mother's purse. It looks like a lot of money to me. I've never seen more than a single twenty in my entire life but I might need most of it just to get out of the mess I am currently in. Leaving Whisper and my shadow to their own activities I go to the bedroom. Stuffing the money under my mattress, I take off my shoes and change into my boxers, collapsing on top of the bare bed. Recent events and the exhaustion that accompanied them settle into my thoughts like lukewarm oil and my eyes drift closed in seconds. I don't normally dream. In fact I don't think I've ever had a single dream in the past. So I have no base for comparison on what I experience after I close my eyes this time. Is it a vision, a sending across realities, or simply my first ever dream? It's familiar on some basic level that I don't understand. I dream, for lack of a better word, of a young girl kneeling in a castle courtyard who can't possibly be more than ten or eleven years old. She is tall and slender for her age, with a willowy grace that is expected of fantastical elves. She has shoulder-length, leafy green hair which moves far more than is natural from the passage of air. She kneels before me in a plain, yet elegant, dress that appears to be hand woven from a material lighter and softer than silk. The dress is a soft purple like a flower petal, was offset by the blue hue of her skin. This color isn't the result of a lack of oxygen but seems natural. Facing her I see that she has eyes similar to my own slit pupils with bright purple irises. Perhaps it's this alone that makes me feel drawn to her or something much deeper, a connection that I can't understand.

The courtyard looks more like a prison than a place of peace. On all sides high, towering walls of black stone loom over the diminutive girl. Walking on these high walls are shadowy sentinels keeping constant vigilance, whether from outside or in I can't say. Moving closer to her I glide like a ghost, adding to the surreal feeling I already have. _This must be a dream_. As I near her she suddenly raises her head. We lock eyes, her purples eyes on my bright green ones, and stare intently at each other. She has soft, delicate features that are a clear indication of her youth, with dark blue lips that form an "O" of surprise. Standing up, her eyes widen in shock or perhaps terror of the ghost boy.

"Wake up, you fool!" She screams at me, her voice high pitched in alarm and I feel myself jolt wide awake.

I find myself not in my bed but rather stuck in a sticky, soft goo pulling me further down with each move I make. _What the hell!_

My small room in my new home is gone. Rather than being in bed I am partially submerged in a thick, orange, gelatinous pool that has an ominous glow. The lake's glow grants me enough visibility in the darkness to see my immediate surroundings. Off to either side of me are towering trees of bone sunk deep into the orange fluid with leaves of red flesh that move of their own volition. The trunk of each tree resembles a long spinal column, freshly pulled from an unnamed massive horror dwelling in the ocean depths.

These red leaves each contain lipless mouths that seem to be grinning evilly at me. The mouths are filled with jagged metal teeth. As horrible as the environment is, the immense set of jaws approaching me demands most of my attention.

The wide open mouth is mind-boggling and the only comparison I can make to bring it into perspective is a large moving cave filled with sharp pillars, each significantly bigger than I am. The orange goo rocks violently as the lower jaw parts and the sticky fluid around it rushes toward me.

Panic flares in my brain as the madness of the situation overwhelms me. Struggling uselessly against my sticky bonds I only sink deeper, nearly fully immersing myself. Closing fast, that wide, gaping maw fills my entire core with fear. Its foul breath flows over me like a breeze from a garbage heap, assuring me that this is no dream. It smells of old carrion, fermenting in the blistering sun with a tinge of salt and sea. It smells of death. Not knowing where I am or how I got here I do the only thing I can think of; the thing that is most natural to me. I shift. I've never shifted myself before, there's been no need, but I instinctively know how. I don't look where I'm going. I don't' have time. I have to leave now.

Slamming closed upon me with earth shuddering force, the teeth give a violent snap, resonating across realities and rattling my bones. Breathing heavily on the verge of hysterical laughter I look down at my body. From the chest down I can see a thick outline of teeth but beyond that the rest of my body is fully intact. I let out a sob of relief. I shifted just far enough. Shifting myself farther away the monster before me becomes a faint outline, barely visible as if it truly belongs to a dream. The orange goo I was trapped in no longer exists. I am instead encased by hard-packed, dry clay that crumbles as I free myself.

Completely breaking free I get to my feet, the earth falling from me as I stand. I am still in a different world. Around me is a barren landscape cloaked in shadows, unoccupied except for a few tumbleweeds and skittering insects the size of footballs. The only source of illumination across the barren landscape is a large, misshapen moon in the night sky. It grins down upon me with a sick purple light. I feel uneasy just looking at it. The shape is all wrong like a double yoke egg that didn't separate during development, with visible cracks in its surface.

Focusing my gaze through the various levels of reality I find my new home. A worried looking Whisper runs about in the darkness of my room, his white fur gleaming slightly in the night. I am about to return there when my shadow shifts here.

"Why the hell did you shift?" He demands as he forms a dark silhouette in front of me. He is much darker than the environment around me, as if even the light from that twisted moon is repulsed by his presence.

"I didn't..." I start, then pause, considering. _Did I?_ Perhaps in my sleep I had accidently shifted myself. Nothing like that has ever happened before but maybe... As I stand there pondering I feel a tug, like someone tied a rope around my waist trying to pull me backwards, back to the orange goo and those large teeth. It's clumsy effort. While my shifting is as precise as a scalpel this feels like someone trying to perform open heart surgery with a butter knife. With little effort I stop the pull before it can move me even a little across realities. Scanning around me I quickly find the source. The monstrous head that had tried to eat me is faint but a single immense, gold-rimmed eye the size of a small car is glaring at me. The fierce hate in that stare makes me shiver. The creature didn't try to eat me like an animal. It had tried to kill me. It might be enormous and it might be able to shallow me whole, but when it comes to shifting I am stronger by far. Turning my back on the eye I address my shadow.

"I was pulled here by something. Something big. I won't let it do it again."

Not waiting for a reply I return to my world. My sudden appearance startles Whisper, making him tumble out of bed. Scrambling to his feet he launches himself at me in a ferret hug. Scooping him out of mid-air I hug him to my chest. The old clock on the dresser reads 3:23am.

"Where did you go, Shifter? I was sleeping on you then I fell on the bed when you vanished. What happened?" Trying to calm him down I give a brief account of what transpired as my shadow rejoins us.

"Let's go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow." I look at the clock again. "I mean later today." Sitting down to breakfast early the later that morning I finish a plate of eggs for me and Whisper. After we wash up I gather him into my duffle bag and head out into the fresh air to get some food, some clothes and some freedom after last night's events.

I return nearly eight hours later with a new backpack, two bags worth of new clothes, an armful of groceries, along with a new cell phone, and a rather diminished wad of cash. The clothes and food didn't cost that much but the lawyer I hired did. He was a lean, professional man in an expensive suit and he almost threw me out before I could assure him that I could afford his fee. Surrendering most of my funds to him I informed him I wasn't hiding from the law, but I didn't want to go back to Greenbroch either. To my knowledge I had no criminal charges against me other than my unauthorized exit from the mental institution. I would be more than happy to comply with any investigation that was ongoing. Leaving it to the lawyer I proceed to have a most excellent meal with Whisper in the park ignoring my upcoming financial troubles and my earlier encounter this morning.

Now those troubles float around in my mind as I put the food away, giving bits of ham to Whisper. Brick suddenly materializes out of the wall next to me, his face taking on the textures of the wall. It makes look like a pock-marked albino teenager and I almost laugh at him. True to my word I told Brick of my new address and I was sure to pick up a lot of quartz for him at a local hobby shop. I also picked up a variety of minerals, including some fool's gold, marble, and obsidian. I think he might like to try something new.

"This place is old and tasty," Brick says, licking his lips with a small black tongue. "They don't make them like this anymore."

"I certainly hope not," my shadow says, leaning against the wall. "Otherwise the entire city might collapse." He's been in a very good mood today

Although I wouldn't admit it to Whisper or anyone else, I am growing a bit concerned about my shadow. He's been getting a lot more active lately, able to interact with this world far more than previously. It's almost as if all the terrible things that have been happening to me lately have been fueling his strength... feeding his darkness. For the millionth time I wonder what he is, really.

Pushing my concerns aside I address the more immediate issue; my lack of funds. I can survive for a few months at the most but after that I will be broke. An obvious solution presents itself to me. Since my 'dream' I know how I can get extra money to fund whatever I want. I don't want to do it, but the more I consider it, the less choice I seem to have _Tomorrow night_. I will do it then. I'll only take the minimum amount I need to get by. I go to sleep with Whisper at my side as I tell myself the lie over and over again. _Only the minimum amount..._

Night. It's a cool fresh night with a light breeze that flies refreshingly through my copper hair as I stand a good distance away from my goal. Dressed in all black I feel like a ninja about to embark on a dangerous quest. _Well, at least the dangerous part was right._

The large bank is nestled comfortably next to a local police station as if that guaranteed protection from all theft. I stand two blocks away looking at the neon sign filled streets with Whisper in my duffle bag and my shadow lingering in the darkness around me. For the great bank robbery I only brought a few items with me, most of which I hope I don't need. A pair of gloves, my cell phone wiped clean of all fingerprints, my backpack and my gun. Moving out of sight of the other nightly pedestrians I go into a back alley behind a local restaurant and place Whisper on the ground, kneeling next to him. Touching his fur I focus my sight, finding my goal. It's done in an instant. I shift us into another world.

The first thing I notice is that the air change from a refreshing night breeze to a bitter, yet sweet aroma like fermenting fruit. There are no longer large buildings and human made signs urging me to buy things I don't need. Instead, a lush rainforest sprawl before me with spindly trees that tower far above my head. I feel very small, especially because of Whisper.

This is the reality I pulled him from all those years ago. He is no longer my cat-sized ferret, but has instead returned to his original size. From head to tail he is about as long as a semi-truck with a trailer attached. Turning his head me he sends me tumbling on the grassy ground. Lowering his head to mine I stare into his startling blue eyes, each now larger than my head. Gently laying a front paw the size of garbage can on my chest he licks my face with his soft pink tongue.

"Ah, Whisper, cut it out!" I laugh as I struggle in vain to push him off. I think he's been waiting to do this for a while.

"Gross," my shadow says, forming a dark silhouette behind me. "Tell me, Shifter, is his foul from never brushing his teeth?"

Whisper, hissing at him, pounces, obviously more at ease now that he is his natural size. Laughing as Whisper passes right through him, my shadow merely scatters for a moment like a puff of wind.

"You're still just a flea infested rat. Hmm... too bad your privates didn't get any bigger." Whisper's ears go flat and a look of alarm crosses his face as he rushes to see if my shadow's claim is accurate. Shaking my head in amusement I get back to my feet, surveying my surroundings.

All around me as far as I can see in any direction is a thick canopy of jungle with lush green filling every spot above me, barely allowing the moonlight in. Yet I can see just fine. Around us in all directions are massive white mushrooms, each taller than I am with thin stems that sway in the breeze. On top of each stalk is a large, round puffy head the size of a basketball that radiates a faint white glow from the center of each. The glow bathes the forest floor in a peaceful soft light. I marvel at the variety of the worlds coexisting with ours. Some, like this, are truly wondrous, while others are simply terrifying. For the first time in my life I have to wonder if my ability to see and interact with these others worlds is a blessing and not a curse. Whisper, after confirming his privates are in fact the right size, glares at my shadow.

"This is my world, smoke cloud. Be careful how you address me." Whisper warns, his hackles rising a bit.

"It might be your world, rat, but I can go anywhere and I'm far beyond your ability to harm," my shadow says.

Not wanting them to get into their typical insulting match I push forward with the plan. This is Whisper's level of reality and that means there are watchers here as well. The sooner we get this done the better. Reaching for my gun, I touch its surface and instantly pull my hand back. The cool metal of the gun had changed to a flaky, almost furry exterior. Looking in my bag I see that my gun had twisted and rusted beyond recognition. It hadn't survived the shifting. Perhaps it was the metal. It'slike it had rusted for a century straight, growing mold. My phone didn't fare much better. It has become cracked and worn, like it was used to scrub dishes for a decade. My clothes I are in much better condition but every piece of metal on me shows signs of extreme age. My shoes however, are a lost cause and at the first step they fall to pieces. Sighing, I resign myself to buying a new pair upon my return.

Whisper joins me, gazing into the bag. In silence I turn the bag over and let the ruined items fall to earth. At least the gloves are ok as I put them on.

"Don't worry, Shifter. I'll protect you," Whisper says nuzzling me, and sending me sprawling again. He gives a soft purr of amusement.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I ask, getting to my feet and scratching behind his large ears.

"I have been little for far too long. It's time for you to be the little one for awhile."

"Well, if I have my way we won't be here long." I direct my vision toward our destination. Scanning the levels of reality I see the bank as a faint outline imbedded in the trees some distance off. I point in its direction and Whisper nods, lowering himself to the ground. In the previous day's planning Whisper had suggested that we go to his level of reality so if we run into trouble he could protect me. I could ride him for speedy transport. I agreed mostly because I knew it would make him happy and I secretly wanted to ride him. Riding a large white ferret just sounded so cool. I scramble up his fur, getting a good grip on him. Whisper returns to his full height easily, leaving me two meters off the ground. I suppress a roar of glee as he bounds off in the bank's general direction, my shadow following behind.

Whisper can't see into the levels of reality like I can so I give him directions. It isn't as simple as I first thought it would be. The forest is thick and leaves little room to navigate. Indeed it takes us almost thirty minutes, circling and back tracking, to reach our destination. What seem like daunting obstacles to me don't even slow Whisper down. He gracefully leaps up cliff walls and dashes around fallen trees, playfully bouncing off a large snake that snaps at us but doesn't pursue.

Finally we stand at the bank, or where the bank is in my world. I can see it as a faint outline, the mere possibility of a structure. Climbing down from Whisper I give him a wide smile and a good scratch under his chin. I study the area carefully along with the position of the vault. Walking to a point just beyond the vault door with Whisper at my side I place my free hand in his fur, shifting us. It's over in an instant. Once again I am in the human world with a ferret in my arms inside a locked bank vault. Houdini would be so jealous right now.

The bank vault is a large, unfriendly room. It speaks of security with locked safety deposit drawers on the left and a cage directly in front of me protecting row upon row of stacked currency. More money than I have ever seen rests just before me. _Just the minimum amount..._ I tell myself again.

Studying the obstacle in front of me I place Whisper on my shoulder, preparing myself for this dark deed. My shadow joins us a few seconds later, shifting all by himself from the other world. Forming a dark shadow over me I feel like a school boy who was caught being naughty by his teacher. Deciding to leave me to figure out the cage, my shadow drifts in and out of the lock boxes, occasionally giving slight chuckles at their contents.

Grabbing the cage I shift it to another world, grimacing at the necessity of it. My original plan was to just take a bit of the money leaving no sign I had ever been here. Now when they arrive in the morning the first thing they will notice will be the missing gate. Perhaps I can bring it back when I am done.

"Let's get this done, Shifter. Such activities are distasteful. I don't see why your kind has interest in green paper," Whisper says looking at the stacks of bills.

"I know, I don't like it either but this will get us food and a place to live. At least until I can get a job." Though privately I wonder if this wouldn't be an easier lifestyle, simply taking what I want.

"Why bother?" My shadow asks as he exits another lock box. "No one can stop us. We should just take what we want."

I shiver at his words. Not from the meaning but from the fact I was thinking exactly that.

"Shifter is not like you, shit cloud," Whisper hisses. Privately I wonder about that.

Ignoring their bickering I start grabbing money, shoving it into my bag. Wads of hundred dollar bills fill my bag and my mind spins with excitement and guilt at the sheer amount I am taking. The bag is half way full and I am getting ready to leave when my shadow speaks up.

"Why not at least fill up the bag?" He says in a sly voice that the snake from the Garden of Eden would be proud of. I ignore him. A few minutes later I am confident that everything is ready to go when my shadow speaks again.

"Open this box for me, Shifter," my shadow says. Turning to look I find him condensed on a certain box.

Going to him I place my hand on the door as he slides out of the way, shifting it. The door leaves reality, creating an open hole where it had been only moments ago. Whisper and I peer in at a black diamond the size of a egg resting on a small display.

"We shouldn't take that," I say.

"Well, I think we should," my shadow counters. "I want it."

"No," I say flatly. He grins at me. Ignoring him I direct my gaze into that other world. Taking a deep breath I steady myself with one hand on Whisper the other on the lock boxes. I shift us. The bank fades from view, becoming a distant memory and I am once again in Whisper's world with the addition of an extremely rusty cage resting on the ground along with an unrecognized square of flaky red that had once been a safety deposit box door. I smile. We did it, everything had worked perfectly. Well I can't return the cage but otherwise everything went smoothly.

Remounting Whisper we take off and I can't help but feel clever after such a successful job. I keep that feeling even as we return to the human world, getting home without a single misstep. I don't lose my good mood until I get home. Going to my room I check the results of the great bank heist.

The bag has money in it, that isn't the problem. The problem is that it is stuffed full of money. I had filled it to the brim, actually appearing to have stuffed even more in it like a greedy child shoving candy into his mouth. I frown. I didn't want to take that much. Even now, though I had clearly taken more then I intended to I don't remember doing it. Only my shadow's whispers that I should. And I had done it. Without thought or consideration to my own plans I had obeyed his dark urgings without even a trace of resistance or independent will. To make matters worse, as I collapse on my bed with the weight of my discovery I feel an odd lump in my pocket. Reaching inside I withdraw the black diamond from the safety deposit box I had opened. A feeling of vertigo fills me as my vision seems to swim and dance about. _What the hell is my shadow and how much influence does he have on me?_

### Chapter 5 – Dances With Watchers

"Why is this here?" I demand, pointing at the diamond resting on my dresser and glaring at my shadow's dark silhouette on the wall. can still be felt but its power is dormant. The same can't be said of my shadow.

"Because you took it, fool," my shadow answers, completely unconcerned by my anger. In fact, he seem to be enjoying it.

"I didn't mean to take it! Did you make me do it?" I shout nearly incoherently at him. My rage at the situation is boiling over. I feel so used and betrayed that I want to do nothing more than shift his presence so far away that I never have to see him again. He just grins at me. That grin holds a secret malevolence that just pisses me off even more. Whisper, who has always enjoyed insulting my shadow is oddly quiet, watching the argument unfold.

"My, such lovely anger. Hmm, I haven't felt this good in a long while," my shadow taunts, a ripple spreading across his dark surface. He is definitely feeding off my anger and it pisses me off even more.

"Just go!" I yell. "I don't want to see you right now!"

My shadow laughs. Morphing into a dark cloud he zips out under the front door. Fuming I stare as the spot where he had been, hands clenched.

"Shifter..." Whisper says softly, as if he'safraid I am going to explode at him next. I instantly feel like an ass. Scooping him up into my arms, I press my face against his.

"Don't let that fecal cloud get to you, Jerry," Brick says forming out of the wall next to me.

"Yeah, I know..." I say with a sigh, holding onto Whisper tightly as if his presence can solve everything. I feel like my world is collapsing. I want nothing more than the emptiness of sleep. Lying down on my bed with Whisper still in my arms, I try not to think as I patiently wait for the sweet embrace of sleep. It takes me a long time to fall asleep; dark thoughts and possibilities chase me the entire time.

I wake up feeling marginally better, with a sleeping Whisper resting next to my head. Smiling at his sleeping form I feel the remainder of my dark mood vanish. I should just enjoy what I have and not worry about vague possibilities regarding my shadow. Curious if my shadow has returned yet I scan the room. I find him near the diamond nearly as black as he is. Resolving not to worry about him I leave Whisper sleeping on my pillow and go into the kitchen. I just start to mix the ingredients for ham and eggs together when Brick's face morphs out of the wall next to me.

"Morning, Brick," I say, pausing in my breakfast preparations to hand him a piece of quartz.

Quickly devouring his treat he gives me a wide, toothy grin. "Morning, Jerry. You feel better today?"

"Yeah."

I begin humming a soft tune as I pour my egg mixture into the pan. The sizzling of eggs and the normalcy of cooking helps me relax. I just finish cooking when Whisper hops on the kitchen counter, his nails clinking on its surface.

"That smells good, Shifter," he says, tail twitching in anticipation. Smiling, I place a large scoop onto a plate and set it before him. Purring in delight Whisper takes small nibbles at the edges. Sitting next to him I eat my own portion, groaning in pleasure. Twenty minutes later I feel full and content with the world. My satisfied feeling is so great that the events of last night no longer seem important. When my shadow joins us I find that I have already forgiven him.

"What will we do today, Shifter?" Whisper asks. I think for a moment. "Well, I'll give the lawyer a call and see what's happening. But until that is all cleared up, we wait." I pause, looking critically at Whisper, "And give you a bath. Then we thoroughly clean this place and go out and grab a meal."

Later I exit a local diner with a satisfied Whisper on my shoulder. I like this particular diner since, as long as I tip well, they allow Whisper on the table. Suddenly I see a dishevelled = woman zoom past me. She is barefoot and dressed in filthy pajamas. She doesn't give me or the patrons of the restaurant a single glance. This is trouble. This woman isn't out for a morning jog or escaping an insane boyfriend. Turning I see a large pack of watchers pursing her. She'strapped in another world. What makes things even weirder is that she is Officer Clifford; the woman I met at my mother's death scene.

I am so surprised by her sudden appearance that I just stand there agape as Clifford runs through a building and out of my line of sight, her light blonde hair flowing behind her. It isn't until the watchers sprint past me that I make sense of the situation. Somehow Clifford got sucked into another world. She is going to die unless I do something fast. Spurred into action I sprint after the pack of watchers, trying to come up with some kind of plan.

"What's going on?" Squeaks an anxious Whisper from my shoulder, struggling to stay on.

"Watchers are chasing a human in your world," I shout between heaving breathes. Luckily there'sonly light foot traffic today. I still have to dodge cars, street posts and the occasional homeless man, failing miserably to close the distance. The watchers are not only faster than me, they also don't have to avoid all the obstacles in the human world like I have too. "So what?," my shadow says, drifting after me.

"Well of course you don't care," Whisper says. "But Shifter is better than you. Let's go to the other world. You can ride me there. You will never catch them like this."

Hesitating for only a moment, I shift us to the same world as the watchers. The human world fades into a hazy background like a dream, replaced by the lush green world of Whisper. This place is completely devoid of the touch of man, radiating with natural beauty. Returning to his original size I quickly mount Whisper. Then we are off, pursuing a dozen watchers hunting a human.

_How the hell did she get here?_ I hope I manage to rescue her to find out. But more than that I need to know if I'm truly crazy. Despite everything I've experienced part of me wonders if the world I see is really in my head. This is a chance for definite proof that Whisper, my shadow and the other worlds are real and that I am not crazy.

Pushing my stray thoughts aside I yell at Whisper as we rapidly gain on the watchers. They are too intent on their prey and fail to notice. "Whisper, I'll be here but you might not be able to see me! Trust me!"

"Of course, Shifter," Whisper replies and I smile.

Whisper leaps, his front claws extended for the rear most watcher. For a creature that has so many eyes, they don't really pay attention very well. Whisper's claws tear deeply into the raised hump of flesh many of its eyes exploding under the impact and the hump crumbles like tissue paper under his weight. It gives a high pitched wail of death that attracts the attention of the others. They break off pursuit of Clifford, scattering around us.

Their eyes roll sporadically in all directions, seeking out all possible threats. Not giving them a chance to regroup Whisper leaps at another, his mouth wide. Back peddling a step the watcher is too slow as Whisper clamps down on its soft, fleshy hump. It gives a death squeal as Whisper lifts it into the air, shaking it back and forth like a mean dog with a squirrel. Blood sprays on his white fur, bathing it crimson as the group of watchers gathers together, facing Whisper.

Whisper can't take on that many watchers by himself. But I am here and while physically I might be weak I can wreak havoc in my own unique way. I make one quick check on the woman. If she dies, anything else is pointless.

She lays exhausted beside a large rock, breathing heavily. Her eyes widen in terror as she watches a pack of hunters she's never seen before take on an immense white ferret with a boy riding him. Seeing enough I shift back to the human world, keeping my sight focused here. Immediately the jungle setting recedes to a faint outline as I reappear in the middle of an empty baseball diamond. A dry wind blows in my face as I scramble to the first watcher. Laying my hands on him through reality I shift it all the way down to the farthest world so I couldn't even see it anymore. It will be dead in a few minutes. I repeat this two more times and I can see the confusion growing in the watchers' yellow eyes. Not only are they being attacked by a huge ferret but three of their number simply vanished as if blown away forever by the wind. They are on the verge of running when my shadow appear before them, a dark angel of death. Regardless of his claim of indifference he falls upon two more watchers, covering them in his inky darkness, dissolving their entire essence with a fizzing sound that reminds me of shaken bottle of pop. The rest flee, scattering in all directions making strange yipping sounds as they run for their lives.

I let out a sigh of relief and turn to Whisper and the frightened woman. At this point she is on the brink of madness herself. I can't even imagine what she has been through. She had to watch the world as she knew it disappear and get plunged into a realm of chaos. When you're running for your life such things are easy to ignore but now the unreality of the situation has come crashing down upon her.

Tears fall from her eyes, wetting her cheeks and long eyelashes as she looks upon me with absolute terror. She's a mess. She's wearing light blue pajamas with dolphins artfully displayed on the top and bottom. Blood, dirt and an unidentified clear, sticky film cover the majority of her vestige and she has the look of a frightened animal. I can't say how long she's been here but it has to have been a least a day. I'm amazed she had survived this long.

"Whisper, shadow stay where you are. We don't want to frighten her anymore."

"Oh why not? Her fear is delicious. You were right to spare her, Shifter. This is far more satisfying than simply watching them eat her. Her pain would have been brief now it can last her entire life," my shadow says, forming a dark silhouette near me. Clifford's eyes bulge at the dark figure. Trembling all over and whimpering slightly she stares at my shadow. I can almost see her mind getting ready to snap like a fraying rope holding a great weight. Encouraged by her obvious display of fear my shadow laughs, surging forward like a dark cloud passing around her. She gives a high pitch squeal of terror as the large rock she rested against is coated in utter darkness, does an undignified scramble away. For a second I think she might get up and run, instead she collapses both mentally and physically, curling into a tight ball and rocking back and forth as she sputters out bits of nursery rhymes in an unsteady, sobbing voice.

"Look at what you did, you stinking parasite from a pigs anus!" Whisper declares hotly, glaring at my shadow. The fact that a giant ferret just insulted a shadow didn't even register with the woman. She is too far gone now.

"What did you just call me, you worm infested mole spawn?" My shadow says, swelling before us like a brewing storm.

"Enough!" I yell. "Shadow, go to the real world until we return. Whisper, come here and help me with her."

My shadow seems indignant at the command but a single look at the woman is enough to give him a wide, happy grin. "Fine," he says. "I doubt she will be any more fun for a while anyways." With that he vanishes across realities, leaving me and Whisper to deal with the mess he made.

"Whisper, don't speak until I tell you. She is on the brink of insanity, if she hasn't done a face dive into it already. Just do what I say and follow my lead."

Whisper gives a nod of understanding and follows me as we slowly approach Clifford. She just lays there unaware of anything, rocking back and forth as she hugs her legs to her chest so tightly that her arms tremble from the effort. Kneeling next to her, I gently stroke her hair.

"It's ok," I say and keep repeating it for several minutes. After a long time, long enough that I am afraid we might be found by other predators, her crying eases a bit. I don't want to shift her as she is right now, her mind is too fragile but if something attacks I might have no choice. Finally, she lifts her head off her chest, looking directly at me. Although her face is dirty her eyes are puffy from crying she has an innocent beauty that one just doesn't see too often. In a trembling, barely functional voice, she asks me the question I had been waiting for. "Is it real?"

I want to lie to her. To tell her it's all in her mind. That shortly she will wake up in her bed and the monsters will be gone. But they won't be gone, not now, not ever. "Yes," I answer simply. She gives a brief nod and passes out.

### Chapter 6 – What Has Been Seen...

"We were lucky that she passed out," I tell Brick, who gazes at the woman resting in my bed. Taking a wet cloth from a basin I press it to her face, cleaning the grime and dirt from it. She doesn't even stir as I apply the cool cloth. "It made getting her back easier."

After Clifford passed out I placed her on Whisper and he carried both of us back home. I decided on this riskier course of action to avoid any human interference. A youth carrying a pretty, unconscious woman who looks like she has been abused might encounter some issues. We did encounter some but nothing Whisper couldn't handle. He nimbly outran ease while I held on for dear life, trying to keep myself and Clifford from falling off. After a few hours of travel we arrived at our destination. Home. Well home in the other world. Directing my sight into the human world I shifted us directly into my apartment. This was my second time shifting a human and again I noticed a resistance to being moved through reality. Shifting myself and Whisper back and forth along with those two watchers had taken much less effort than returning Clifford to her reality. How strange. I wanted to give her time to recover before encountering talking ferrets, a creature living in my wall, and a really disturbing shadow. If I rushed this too much she was likely to take an extended stay at Greenbroch Mental Institution, just like I had.

"Is she up yet?" Calls Whisper from the bathtub where he's currently soaking. A few splashes follow his question.

"Not yet," I call back.

"I hope she will wake up soon," my shadow sas, resting on the ceiling above me and staring malevolently down at the sleeping figure. "I want to see if I can get her to breakdown and spout gibberish again." He laughs at the idea of tormenting her further. It's a creepy laugh, one that penetrates deep into my bones, reverberating around like a bullet endlessly ricocheting in a small enclosed space.

"Don't," I warn, glaring at him. He just laughs again and I suppress a shudder. Since she'sentirely in the human world my shadow can only do so much, but it would be enough. I finish cleaning her face and return to the bathroom with a basin full of dirty water. Lifting the toilet seat lid up I dump the water in, flushing it as a thoroughly wet Whisper peers at me just over the bathtub rim. The not unpleasant smell of wet fur fills my lungs as I grab the green apple shampoo. Feeling particular playful he squirms in the tub, splashing everywhere, mostly at me. Laughing I struggle to catch and clean him. He swims gracefully around the tub, avoiding my hands and getting soapy suds everywhere. The innocent playing and the sight of a wet ferret purring were good for my soul

I leave Whisper to play in the tub for another hour before taking him out and drying him. Then I go to the kitchen to start dinner as Whisper takes a short nap. He curls up like a small fluffy white pillow on my sofa and every time I gaze at him I feel myself give a small, happy smile. Soon the smell of browning hamburger overpowers Whisper's lingering green apple smell. I do my best not to drool. Perhaps it's the stress of the day or all the shifting, but I am ravenous. I just finish when Brick appears next to me.

"Jerry, she's up. She looks confused and scared, but otherwise ok."

I pause, considering my options. In a low tone that won't carry to the bedroom I say,. "Leave her alone for now. Let her come out her when she is ready. But go keep an eye on her just in case."

"Sure," Brick says, fading back into the wall. Unless a person is shifted outside of human reality they can't detect Brick at all. He could make a fortune working for the NSA.

Setting down three plates of food, Whisper and I start on ours while waiting in silence for our guest to join us. I find that I can't focus on my food at all despite my hunger. Every few seconds my gaze is drawn to the door and I keep expecting to see the disheveled woman standing the doorway. My excitement grows with every passing glance at the door. Soon I will be able to actually talk with someone about the other worlds. Sure I talk with Whisper about it, but the thought of confiding in another human being after all these years of dark mutterings and accusations of insanity leaves me giddy with excitement. Endless possibilities expand before me. Perhaps I will have to shift to prove that it wasn't all a dream. The prospect of sharing my experiences leaves me shaking slightly with anticipation. I have a hard time not going to the bedroom.

My excitement dies when I see her after nearly twenty minutes of frantic waiting. She looks terrible. Her eyes are wide as if she's seen too much to ever shut them again. Her face is taut and sickly, with a paleness often associated with ghosts. I hadn't changed her cloths and neither had she. I don't think she even noticed the ones I set aside for her on the bed. Broken... she looks broken. For the first time I wonder if I did the right thing by bringing her here. I was so caught up in my own needs that I never considered what this might do to her.

"She looks terrible, Shifter," Whisper says, still on the counter next to me. Clifford's gaze drifts from mine to Whisper, a frown crossing her features. Unable to hear Whisper it must have sounded like squeaking to her. Not wanting her to focus too much on the strange events around me I grab her attention once more.

"Take a shower. You will feel better afterwards and I'll get some fresh cloths for you. We can talk when you're ready."

Without a response she drifts like an automaton to the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Wow, she looks gone," Brick says. I don't respond until I hear the sound of running water.

"She's still in shock. Brick, can you keep an eye on her make sure she doesn't hurt herself."

"Sure, no problem," Brick replies, then adds, "Provided that you can give me some incentive." I smile, giving him some quartz and a piece of mica.

"Don't watch her in the shower," I tell him.

"I make no promises," he says, receding into the wall. I return to my meal with less enthusiasm than I had started with. Both the delight of the food and the prospect of talking with Clifford have been ruined by reality.

Steam rolls out from under the door like a thick fog \\. I sincerely hope she isn't curled up under a blistering shower. Leaving my meal unfinished I go to the bedroom, retrieving the clothes I had set aside for her. Approaching the bathroom door I cautiously knock loudly. It feel like I'm knocking on the door of an insane person's cell. Someone that would either spontaneously cry for hours on end or perhaps scream. I wonder if people think the same thing about me.

"I have some fresh cloths for you. Can I come in?" No answer. I am about to knock again when I hear a soft, nearly inaudible, reply.

"Ok." Entering the bathroom is like walking into a heavily used sauna. A thick sheen of water coats everything, from the foggy mirror to Brick's face. He gives me an exaggerated wink as I set the clothes down on the sink. Nothing can be seen of Clifford behind the pale blue shower curtain.

Feeling like I should say something deep and meaningful I say, "Your clothes are on the sink." I think I have an "epic failure" sign around my neck.

"Ok." _Damn. Could this be any more awkward?_

"What tension!" Brick says, eyeing me. "Perhaps you could ease things by farting really loudly. You humans find your bodily functions so amusing." I nearly snort with laughter but I suppress it, not wanting Clifford to hear.

"Shall I call a cab?" I ask, giving up on any useful conversation. A pause again, but not a lost, helpless one. This one feels different... thoughtful.

"No, there are things I need to know. I just need a few more minutes to gather myself." Encouraged I leave the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

"Is she crying like a baby?" My shadow asks from the ceiling, having returned from whatever he's been up to.

"No, I think she's better now and don't bother her," I say. Giving a dissatisfied grunt he pools into a spot of darkness on the ceiling.

"Leave her alone, she's already had a hard enough time," Whisper adds, having just finished licking his plate clean and eyeing mine greedily. Giving me a cute hopeful look he twitches his nose and whiskers slightly, opening his dark blue eyes extra wide. I don't know if normal ferrets beg for food but Whisper is a true master. Smiling I give him the rest of my food and wait for the sound of falling water to stop.

Finishing off my food Whisper licks my plate clean as well. Stretching his long body out he gives a wide yawn that can be heard clearly in the silence as the sound of running water abruptly vanishes. Whisper's head swings around to the bathroom door as he yawns again, exposing his sharp teeth and pink tongue.

"I'll take a nap while you talk. Wake me if you need something." I give him a nod. Gracefully leaping down he trots almost drunkenly to the couch. Getting comfortable on the sofa he stretches out across two cushions, his soft belly exposed to the sky. Moments later a hushed snoring fills the quiet of the room.

"She's getting dressed right now, Jerry," Brick says, forming out of the wall near me. "She looks better but I would still take it easy when you talk with her. She did a lot of crying in the shower. Want me to hang around and help? I'm popular with the ladies."

"Nah, I'll be fine," I say in a hushed, non-carrying tone.

"Ok, I'll go watch TV with the neighbors then."

A few minutes later the bathroom door opens and a blanket of mist rolls out, followed by Clifford. She stands before me in borrowed clothes that are a bit too large for her, looking at me with alert and refreshed eyes. Gone is the lost abused child. Now Officer Clifford is in command. Like steel in the forge she has survived the fire and is now stronger for it. Or so I hope. This new-found strength and resolve are not the least bit offset by her appearance. She wears a black, long-sleeved shirt with the New Orleans Saints logo on it, tucked into dark blue sweatpants. She still manages to portray a sense of authority that all lifetime peacekeepers have. Her face and white blond hair are clean and healthy looking. It's was hard to believe that this is the same broken woman from an hour ago.

"Are you hungry?" I ask, gesturing to the remainder of the hamburger.

"Famished. I don't suppose you have any coffee?"

"Sorry, no. I don't drink coffee," I say. Caffeine doesn't affect me at all.

Scooping a large helping of the food onto a plate I set it down on the counter as she pulls a stool up next to me. "Thanks," she says and shovels it into her mouth. I watch her eat in silence which might be interpreted as a bit creepy. In truth I have no idea what to do or say. I've had almost no friendly interactions with people. I feel completely clumsy. Typically, if anyone ever talks with me it's to mock me about being a crazy little shit or to play a cruel joke. I rack my brain trying to find something to say, only to reject each as being lame or inappropriate. Luckily, Clifford doesn't notice anything. She is too focused on her food.

I am about to say, 'Hey at least there are no dead bodies this time...' when she breaks the ice. Setting her fork down she turns toward me. I hadn't really noticed it before but she is rather pretty. She has a graceful beauty like a marathon runner with curves in all the right places. Swallowing hard I feel even more awkward. She absently brushes her hair out of her eyes as we lock gazes. "So who are you?" I feel like I've just been gut punched. How can she not remember me? Maybe it was a lot more memorable experience for me. For her it might just have been Tuesday and another countless crime scene.

"Jerry Price, we met before. The crazy kid... your lost witness... sent to the mental institution." I add the last part a bit sourly. She pauses thinking back and giving me a critical look. Suddenly her eyes widen in recognition.

"Yes, I remember now. The kid who said the wall ate his neighbor..." She trails off, perhaps wondering if she is in a padded cell right.

"The last twenty-four hours must have really put things in a new perspective, right?" I say and she nods, looking uncertain.

"Let me start off. You are not crazy. Neither am I. The world you know is much bigger than most realize. Other worlds overlap ours. Existing much like ours does but separate. I envision the human world which you are in right now as the surface of a vast ocean. Most never realize that beneath us there are hidden depths stretching far down. These are the other worlds.

"I have been able to see into these other worlds ever since I was born. It made for an interesting childhood," I say hoping for a smile which I don't get. "You were somehow trapped there until I shifted you back here."

"Shifted?" Sarah asks.

"Yes. I can not only see into these worlds I can transport objects or people back and forth between them. I call it shifting," I say.

"This can't be true. People would know. A secret this big can't be kept. And the things I saw..." She shudders. "They can't be real. They just can't."

"I'm sorry, they are," I reply.

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Maybe I accidently got exposed to something. Like a drug during that disastrous raid a few days ago. It could have all been a vivid hallucination."

"What about what I see?"

"Well you're just..." She trails off, not wanting to say what she is desperately trying to convince herself of.

"Crazy?" I offer. She gives me an 'I'm sorry' look but doesn't apologize. "Well I can prove it easily."

She narrows her eyes at me and says in a very suspicious tone, "How?"

"I can shift you."

Before I can explain she leaps up, backing away from me. A loud clang echoes in the silence of the room as her stool falls and Whisper raises his head up, looking around the room his eyes unfocused.

"Relax. Let me explain," I say trying to sound reassuring.

"You do that," she says in a tone that clearly indicates that she wants to be pointing a gun at me. For someone who claims she doesn't believe it's all real she acts quite the contrary. My shadow chuckles but behaves himself.

"I'm not completely in the human world. It... repels me so I'm slightly off. Using the ocean reference I'm ankle deep while you are on the surface not even getting your feet wet. In this level of reality I interact with several unique entities. I can talk with faces in the wall, my own shadow and Whisper over there." I point to him as he lays his head back down. "I also see things differently."

"I thought you said you could see..." She hesitate, "into the other world."

"Worlds," I correct. "There is more than one. I can but it usually takes a bit of effort. Movement is easier to see I can do that effortlessly." Taking a deep breath I plunge in. "What I can do is shift you to my level of reality. There is little danger there since it is so close to the human world but you will be able to see and interact with things no one else can."

She hesitates, battling between her desires to seek the truth and to live a comfortable lie. Contrary to what most people think the majority of humanity would rather live a comfortable lie. "You got sucked into the other world somehow. I have no idea how such a thing could happen unless it was intentionally done. You need to know the truth," I urge.

Taking a deep breath I can see her brace herself for some great unbearable pain. "Fine. But just for a little bit."

Smiling, I extend my hand to her. She slowly takes it and I can feel a slight tremble in her grip. I squeeze her hand in a gesture of support as she grinds her teeth together and closes her eyes.

"Ok, it's done," I say.

She blinks in confusion as her gaze travels around my unchanged apartment. "It is? I felt nothing and everything seems the same."

"Of course, we are barely outside of human reality. Whisper, come here will you?"

"I'm still sleepy," Whisper says, yawning and curling up into a fluffy white ball. Clifford jumps, releasing my hand. Her eyes bulge at the talking white ferret.

"Come on Whisper, she can hear you now. Talk with her will you?" I plead.

"Can I have some cheese?" He asks raising his head, whiskers twitching in hopeful expectation.

"Sure, hop up on the counter," I say. Clifford watches Whisper in amazed silence, her mouth forming a rather large O.

"It talks..." She declares as if she had personally made some great world changing breakthrough.

"I'm not an 'it,' I'm a 'he,' and why shouldn't I talk? You talk," Whisper says getting on his feet. Stretching his long body he yawns widely.

"Officer Clifford, this is Whisper," I said going to the refrigerator for some snacks.

"Call me Sarah," she says, never taking her eyes from Whisper as he hops nimbly on the counter next to her. He purrs loudly, rubbing his face against her hand, unleashing his full charm. Smiling she reaches down to pet him and melts in his hand...err paw. Within seconds she scoops him into her arms, scratching him behind the ears, his favorite spot.

"Whisper is not really a ferret, he just resembles one," I say. "He's from a differnt world, that's why he can talk. That also why he was bigger when we took care of those watchers. Things seem to shrink when they are moved from lower levels of reality to ours."

"Watchers?" Sarah asks.

"Yes, those creatures that were chasing you when we rescued you. I call them that because of all the eyes on that fleshy hump." She pauses, thinking back and then gives an exclamation of surprise, glancing down at Whisper in her arms.

"You mean that this is the same creature that saved me?" She says in a disbelieving tone.

"I'm not a creature, I'm a ferret," replies Whisper.

"Well you're close enough to a ferret," I say.

"Why is he so much smaller?" Asks Sarah.

"I think it's because this world is smaller," Brick says forming out of the wall next to me. The sudden appearance of a face in the wall is akin to something straight from a horror movie. Sarah lets out a surprised yelp, rapidly backing away while clutching Whisper tightly in her arms.

"What the fuck is that?"

Whisper chuckles. "I get petted while Brick gets yelled at. It pays to be cute."

"Sarah, this is Brick, he's a... Brick what is your kind call anyways?" "You humans are so obsessed with naming things. Well, that and mating. I swear that's all your neighbors watch. Really disgusting."

I cough loudly, face burning. "That's enough on that topic. Sarah, Brick's kind are rather numerous even if you've never seen one. They live in buildings, roads, all over any human construction." Sarah relaxes a bit, loosening her death grip on Whisper now that she is over the initial shock of seeing Brick.

"We feed on the structures we live in and we see many things," he says, grinning at her.

"Oh, so everyone can talk except me?" My shadow asks bitterly from his ceiling perch. Sarah gasps, turning her head in every direction, scanning for the source of this new voice.

"I don't see why I can't have fun as well," he says, giving a dark chuckle. Darkness spreads across the ceiling like a gate to the abyss itself until the entire surface is dark and ominous. Sarah's eyes go wide as she watches the ceiling alter.

"Stop it!" I shout but my shadow ignores me, too intent on his own pleasures. The darkness ripples in satisfaction, either at my anger or Sarah's whimpering cry. Long, black arms suddenly protrude from the ceiling, making wide, grasping motions toward Sarah. She gives a wild, terrified shriek, curling up on the floor and shielding Whisper with her body. I doubt those arms can hurt her in any way but it's the spreading of fear and discord my shadow wants. He succeeded.

"Enough!" I roar and the darkness seems to buckle thrashing against my command. It recedes swiftly like the night from the approaching dawn until only a dark silhouette remains, disbelief etched into his dark features. Apparently I can influence him like he did to me before. With an angry snort he collapses into a black pool, zooming under the front door, off to cause misery elsewhere.

"Nicely done, Jerry!" Brick cheers. "About time someone put that stain in his place."

I smile at him, turning back to Sarah and my spike of happiness vanishes. She's huddled on the floor, quivering in fear as Whisper gently speaks in her ear.

"Ah, damn it," I say in a hushed half sigh. Great, right when I am making progress my shadow has to ruin it, like usual. Rushing to her side I lay a supportive hand on her shoulder only to have her jump up, backing away from me and clutching Whisper like a teddy bear. Retreating to the nearest corner her brow is damp with sweat plastering her white blonde hair to her face. Taking slow, reassuring steps I sit on the couch the side farthest from her, patting the cushion next to me.

"Its ok, he's gone. He can't hurt you. He just likes to scare people."

"I believe he is what your kind call a major asshole," Brick offers, grinning widely. Whisper lets out a purring chuckle. I think its Whisper's laugh that reassures her. Taking slow, apprehensive steps she joins me on the couch, her legs still trembling slightly.

"Wh...wha..what was that?" She asks in an unsteady tone.

I let out a long sigh. "My shadow."

"Your shadow?" She gazes down around my body, looking for the offending darkness. Deciding it's easier to just show her, I stand up, entering the door way leading to the bedroom. The setting sun illuminates a large rectangle of light from the open door. I stand in the warm embracing light, letting Sarah have a good long look. All around me objects that the sun touched displayed shadows stretching far from their sources, shying away from the offending light, except for me. Back and forth her gaze travels never accepting the plain truth. I just don't have one. Giving up, I return to the couch next to her.

"Just trust me. My shadow isn't attached to me and is a real pain in the ass," I say.

"But how?"

_Fair question_. I shrug. "I have no clue. Nor do I know why I can shift. It's just the way I am."

Brick chimes in. "Shifting is a fairly uncommon ability in the other worlds but not unheard of. However, they can usually only shift themselves for a short period of time. Then their reality pulls them back or they die. Jerry is the only being I've ever seen than can shift permanently. Another thing I've never seen before is a human in those other worlds. Besides Jerry, of course. How did you get there?"

She seems to sag at the question, releasing Whisper all together and sinking deeper into the sofa.

"It was so crazy and impossible that I thought I had gone mad. Even now I can't really believe it happened." She gestures toward Whisper, Brick and then me. "Now I guess it must be true. All of it." Whisper jumps into her lap again, purring loudly and rubbing his face against her. She smiles down at him, proving that affectionate animals can cheer anyone up.

"Please, tell me what happened. It's important," I urge. She lets out a long sigh, remembering things that she would rather be forgotten and begins.

### Chapter 7 – The Unforeseen

Sarah's Tale

It all started with vision. Until a week ago we'd had no progress on tracking the supply chain. Hell, we don't even know how it's made. Chemically it's extremely complex and should require a full blown pharmaceutical company to make it; it's not something made on the street or grown in your backyard. From reports it gives you a high like no other, causing people to have disturbing visions. That's how it got its name. Take too much and you get the munchies. As in you want to kill and eat all the people around you. An hour later you're zoning, staring off into space, never interacting with anyone again.

Obviously, we can't have this spread further. Right now it appears to be a local drug only, which is odd. But no other cases have shown up outside this city. Our first major breakthrough came by pure chance; a traffic accident of all things. I got the call around 4am.

"Hello?" I answered in a slurred voice. I had stayed up too late the previous night finishing the endless paper on yet another failed attempt to secure the source of vision. At this rate I might be replaced on the task force.

"Officer Clifford?" Came a young man's voice over the speaker. It was far too refreshed and alert for this ungodly hour.

"Yes. What do you want?"

"Uh..." The voice stammered, probably not used to gruff attitudes from those he contacted. "I was told to contact you about a traffic accident."

"I don't work in that area. Don't waste my time. I work in the drug enforcement task force, specifically on vision. Unless there is some relevance in this conversation, I'm hanging up." There was a lot of attitude for my promotion to the task force at the insanely young age of twenty-one. I kept getting a few pointless calls and interruptions during my days every now and again, but this was ridiculous.

"Umm, sorry... I was just told... errr." The kid was obviously taking orders from someone. "Who told you to call me?" I said, taking pity on the fellow.

"Detective Branson."

Immediately, I became more alert and I actually started to pay attention. Branson was an older gentleman, in is early fifties who moved here from Mexico nearly twenty years ago. An expert on the drug trade, he has been invaluable in the vision task force. He knew most of the supply chains and who the major players were, although his extensive experience had reached its limits on this case. We've been working together on this for the past six months, ever since I was fresh out of the police academy. Back then I had been cocky and arrogant, convinced I could personally end the war on drugs. Carlos showed me how much I didn't know. If he told them to contact me it was serious.

"Give me the details," I told the dispatcher, rolling out of bed, already turning on the light and gathering up my things.

"I don't know a lot. Just that there was an accident and Branson told me contact you immediately. You can call his cell, he's on the scene right now."

Giving the young man a grunt for a goodbye I hung up the phone to call Carlos. I listen to the phone ring on the other end, my heart pounding. Perhaps something was finally going my way. Five long, excruciating rings later the phone was answered.

"Branson," the man said.

"Hello Detective, it's Sarah. I heard you might have something interesting."

"Ah Sarah, how many times I have I told you to call me Carlos."

"Ok, Carlos," I said, sighing. "What do you have."

"Well on the surface just a nasty traffic accident. Semi-truck driver fell asleep at the whee,l colliding with a rundown station wagon. Luckily no one was killed and both drivers were taken to Greenbroch hospital."

"Go on," I said. Carlos Branson was a nice enough guy but he sure did love the sound of his own voice. I think he liked drawing things out just to get on my nerves.

"The officers on the scene found a rather large supply of a yellowish crystals that you might be interested in. It was being transported by the kid in the station wagon."

My heart skipped a beat. "How much?"

"Well, hard to say, it has already been sent down to the station for evidence. If I had to guess, at least fifty kilos."

I whistled. That was a lot. Far too much for someone to use or even sell without distributing it.

"Was it cut yet?"

"Not sure," Carlos answered. "If I had to guess, I would say no. Too much in big bags for it to be cut already. Won't know until the lab boys examine it." If it was uncut then that means he probably got it from the source... the place it was manufactured!

"Place that kid under guard. I'll head to the hospital right now."

"Been doing this longer than you, kiddo," Carlos said. "I already placed two uniforms on him at all times. He's messed up anyways both legs got crushed in the accident. The only way he is going any place is in a wheelchair."

"Thanks, Carlos," I said.

"No problem I'll meet you there."

"If you need to go home to Jeanne I can handle this alone," I said. I had met Jeanne a few times at social gatherings after successful raids. Nice girl but very protective of her husband, even from himself.

"Nah, Jeanne understands. Her family was killed by the cartels before we left Mexico. She hates the trade almost as much as I do."

"I can understand that. I'll be there in thirty minutes," I said. Looking down I saw that in my distraction I had put my underwear on outside my pants. "Make it forty-five minutes. I need coffee."

Forty-three minutes later, with a massive mug of coffee I was strolling into Greenboch Hospital. Glaring fluorescent lights blinded, me sending a sharp, throbbing pain through my temple. Taking a big swig of coffee, I felt the pain immediately lessen as a grinning Carlos greeted me by the reception desk. A short stocky man with wide shoulders, he still had the strength and vigor of youth despite his advancing years. Brown of skin with a thick black goatee, he dressed like a casual businessman ready for a meeting. That night he wore a gray pin-striped dress pants with a loose fitting gray overcoat that hid his shoulder holster nicely. The professional dress style was ruined a bit by the worn Cubs baseball cap he wore everywhere. He said it made him look more American but I think it was to hide his growing bald spot.

"What, no coffee for me?" He asked in a slightly pleading tone.

"No," I said protectively holding my cup.

"You wound me," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Jeanne asked me not to get any more, remember? Part of your health regiment." Personally I consider coffee to be the missing part of the food pyramid and eventually science will realize their terrible mistake.

"I was hoping you would forget that," Carlos said crestfallen.

"No chance. I do so love drinking coffee in front of those who have none. I consider it therapy. So tell me about the driver."

Carlos grabbed a yellow folder which I hadn't seen earlier from under his arm, flipping it open. "Karl Wentworth, 19 years old, part-time college student at the local community college. Lives at home with his mom in a low income housing project."

"Criminal history?" I asked, sipping more coffee.

"Nothing too bad. A few vandalism charges and a drug bust when he was a juvenile. Then four years ago his father died from some type of gang violence. His grades improved and he signed up for classes at the community college."

"Hmmm," I said, considering. Didn't sound like a hardcore street dealer. Perhaps he was just running errands to pay for school or helping out his mom. I said as much to Carlos.

He nodded his agreement. "I was thinking the same." He turned around, strolling casually down the hall, taking firm even strides. I matched his pace.

"We might be able to get some useful intel from him. Like where he get the drugs from and where he was bringing them to."

"True, but be careful. We don't want him demanding a lawyer. Then we will get nothing out of him for days. Damn lawyers, and I thought we had bad vermin in Mexico," Carlos said hotly.

We made a left turn down a busy hall where men and women wearing starched white uniforms rushed to and fro with clipboards in hand and stethoscopes dangling from their necks. A short distance away a green curtain was pulled in a semicircle around a bed with two policemen in uniforms standing alert just beyond it. As we approached the curtain it was suddenly pulled back as a man with thick-rimmed glasses exited, a nurse trailing behind him. I made a gesturing motion for him as I neared. He closed the curtain before addressing me.

"Hello, Doctor Berg," I said reading his name tag. "How is the patient?"

"He's in a lot of pain and we just gave him some Morphine to help him relax."

"Can I talk with him?" I asked.

"Can this wait? The patient has just been through a traumatic experience. He needs time to recover both psychically and psychologically before he is interrogated," Doctor Berg said in a disapproving tone.

"I'm afraid this can't wait doctor. It is critically important. Lives depend on it," I answered.

With a defeated sigh he said. "Fine. Just keep it brief." Nodding, I pulled back the curtain and entered with Carlos who shut it again, giving us the illusion of privacy.

Carlos wasn't joking when he said that the kid was messed up. Both legs were immobilized with steel rods and lots of white bandaging. His lower body almost looked like a mummy except for his bare feet, which stood out swollen and a bit purplish. Moving my gaze from those bloated feet I took in the rest of Karl.

He was young, like the profile said, with bronze skin and dirty blonde hair. Reminded me of a California surfer. He wore a dirty and ripped long sleeve shirt with a picture of something I could no longer make out on it. His right arm was handcuffed to the bed with an IV dangling from it. His jaw was tight and his eyes were a bit watery, obviously still in pain. His eyes were alert and aware for now. Guess it depends on the morphine dose.

"I'm Officer Clifford and this is Detective Branson. We would like to ask you some questions regarding your late night trip."

Panic and genuine fear filled his face. I could almost see him count the number of years he would be spending in jail.

"I swear I didn't know what the stuff was, man! I just picked it up and delivered it! I never saw the contents!" He probably meant it. What better way to keep the secret of its origin.

"I believe you," I told the kid who sagged in relief, though mistrust lingered in his eyes. "I need to know everything. Where did you pick it up? Where were you going to drop it off? Who did you get it from? Everything."

"Man, you have no idea what they will do to me!" Karl said.

"Would you rather go to jail for the next ten years? Only to have them kill you on the inside. I've seen it plenty," Carlos said. "Your only hope is to tell us all you know."

"What will they do to you, Karl?" I asked.

Stark terror filled his face. I could see it build to the point where I was afraid he might have a stroke right in front of me. His breathing became rapid, eyes flicking back and forth like he was afraid the walls were listening to him.

"Calm down and tell us. We can help you." I urged. It was either my stellar personal skills or the morphine but a few seconds later he visibly relaxed.

"He said he would give my soul to Melephos," Karl said.

"Melephos? What's that?" Carlos said.

"I don't know," Karl replied, looking white.

"Talking about souls, was he playing the part of some Jamaican witch-doctor or something? Describe this guy to us," I said.

"I never got a clear look at him. He always wore thick black robes that covered his face and his entire body. He had a really sophisticated voice, like he usually spent his day with royals. Everyone around him was scared of him, I could tell. Even the really big guys got scared when he mentioned Melephos."

"Listen Karl. You're a good kid," I said. "Stupid for getting involved with this kind of thing but a good kid all the same. These guys control people with fear. They act all weird and spooky, trying to make you think they got some genuine power and can hurt you at the slightest whim. You want to know the truth? They can't. They just lie to frighten you and then boss you around without taking any risk themselves. They are cowards, plain and simple." I could see my argument giving Karl pause. He was considering it.

"You know, man," Carlos said imitating the kid's speech pattern. "Dudes like that will just run and hide. They will have no idea you talked. Hell, they don't know where you are or anything yet. What will happen to your mother if you go to jail? If they are as bad as you say then they will hurt her and you no matter what. Your only choice to cooperate. We can protect both of you."

"Ok," Karl said reluctantly and I gave a mental cheer. "I pick the stuff up once a week, delivering it to five different locations. My route is all around downtown I make a big circle, dropping off a bag at each spot and head home a thousand dollars richer. Easy money man."

"Where do you get it from?" I asked, more interested in the source than the destination but I'll take those also.

"A storage facility off 23rd street near the corner of Charles Road. I pick it up there every Saturday and do my rounds."

I stared at him hard. _Was he screwing with me?_ That was just ten blocks from the police station I worked out of. Disbelieving, I looked to Carlos who gave me a slight shake of the head.

"You sure?" I asked.

"Yeah man. I pull up to the place and bang on the door. One of the tall guys opens it real quick then shuts it again. A garage door opens and I pull in a few seconds later I get five bags filled with I don't know what and a grand in cash. I take off and they shut the door behind me. I don't see them again 'till next week."

Questions filled my mind. This was getting weirder by the second. "So they operate and maybe manufacture this drug near the police station in an expensive part of Chicago?"

"What do you mean by tall guys?" Carlos asked, having his own questions.

Turning his head back and forth he decided to answer my question first. I guess that means I'm more intimidating. "I don't know anything about them manufacturing. I just get the stuff." Turning to Carlos he said, "Yeah they got really tall guys working there. Like bigger than basketball players, man."

"I don't care about the tall guys! What did you see in the storage facility? A chemistry lab? Beakers? Naked chicks sorting stuff? WHAT WAS IN THERE?!" I demanded. Karl flinched at my tone and Carlos gave me a take it easy look.

"I...I...I didn't see anything like that. They just had a few big metal shipping containers on the inside. Nothing else."

Shipping containers could hold a chemical lab, although it would be a small one. Could this be the source? It just seemed so wrong, like I was missing a critical part. I took a deep, steadying breath, trying to relax.

"Karl, I'm sorry for getting angry but these are very bad... dudes." I said, the world feeling strange in my mouth. "They have killed lots of people with the stuff they're making. Entire families wiped out from a single night of excess. Please try to remember any detail that might help." Karl just sat there looking scared and shaking his head.

"Alright I need to confer with my associate here. We will be right back," I said, pulling Carlos out by the arm. As soon as we were beyond the bed I shut the curtain again, leading Carlos down an unused hall.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Well, I don't see why he would lie to us. But it makes no sense. Maintaining a facility there would be risky."

"And expensive," I added. "That's a good neighborhood and a respectable area."

"Where better to hide something than in plain sight," Carlos said.

I took a big pull from my almost forgotten coffee cup. "True but it doesn't feel right," I said, savoring the bitter taste my mouth.

"Aye. Shall we go take a look?" Carlos asked.

"Let's get a warrant first and go in hardcore. I don't want these guys getting away on a legal technicality or being alerted that we are on to them."

"Do we have enough for a warrant?" Carlos asked.

"Should. We have drugs with intent to distribute along with Karl's statement. We have enough to storm the place," I said.

"Ok. But if we are going to do that we might want to get the drop off locations as well. Might be able to wrap up this whole thing in a day."

I smiled at him. After all this time the thought of wiping it out in one great swoop brought a shiver of excitement down my spine. Turning back we returned to the busy patient area. The two policemen were still out in front of the closed curtain. Nodding to them I pulled the curtain back only to find Karl gone. Well not completely. Two severed feet rested in the middle of the bed, staining it red. It was so fresh that blood was still pumping out of the stumps. All four of us just stood there stunned, watching the feet bleed. It wasn't until a passing nurse screamed that our shock was shattered.

Dropping my coffee I grabbed the nearest cop by the shirt pulling him in close. "WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT HAPPENED TO HIM?" I screamed incoherently. He managed to decipher my meaning well enough.

"I don't kn... know," he said weakly, eyes still on the feet.

Pointing a trembling finger at the feet which had finally stopped bleeding, I bellowed right in his face. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW!" People stared and then, noticing the feet, began shouting. I lost track of things then. People screamed and shouted everywhere. Pathetic search attempts were made, including looking under the bed and an alarm was sounded that I couldn't hear over all the commotion. At one point Carlos was dragging me off the officer who had somehow gotten a bloody nose as doctors and nurses swarmed the scene like ants. It took over an hour for me to calm down enough to articulate properly.

"Fucking criminal Houdini, that's who we are dealing with," I declared, leaning against Carlos' squad car.

"Yup," he said, sipping from a cup of coffee that he somehow got. "What now?"

"We cancel the show," I said, straightening. "Let's get that warrant and strike right now. Also, have the confiscated drugs moved to a secure warehouse. I don't want them disappearing too. One more thing." I took his coffee away from him taking a deep swig. "You're not allowed to have coffee."

It took all my good press along with Carlos' added testimony to get the warrant. Four hours later we were outside the storage facility with a dozen members of SWAT, not including Carlos and myself. Strapping on heavy Kevlar vests, we did a quick firearm check. I felt woefully under armed with my pistol, compared to the SWAT team with their big rifles.

Exiting the van the swat leader Sandborn gave instructions to surround the place, covering every possible entrance and exit. Simultaneously a dozen men in identical body armor jump out of the van. I noticed Karl was right as soon as I exited the van. It was just a well-kept storage facility in the nice part of town with multiple garage doors and freshly painted walls. I almost wished a van would burst out with a gunman in the rear taking poorly aimed shots at me. At least then I would know this is right place. Looking at the building nothing felt right. The cost of the building alone must have been staggering and the risk of discovery astronomical. But they did it anyways. I'm not sure if we were dealing with a genius or a complete retard. A bad feeling welled up in the pit of my stomach at the sight of the building and I just knew something was wrong. Sandborn looked at Carlos, who gave a single sharp nod. Grabbing his radio clipped to his shirt collar he pressed a button. "Go! Go! Go!" He yelled in such a commanding tone I was tempted to join them.

Taking his own advice he burst through the main entrance with two others along with Carlos and me bringing up the rear. The raid was precision, resembling a Rolex watch, as all entrances were breached simultaneously with shouts of 'POLICE!' and 'HANDS IN THE AIR'. Lights danced back and forth in the dimly lighted area as the flashlights built into the guns swung back and forth to various targets. It was beautiful and I allowed myself a brief delusion that after today it would all be over. The drug war won, at least on a small front. Bursting into the warehouse right behind swat I got a good look at the action. The area was just as Karl described it. Vast with steel beams crisscrossing in the rafters and large metal shipping containers coated in a layer of dust, sitting like ancient forgotten pillars. At first I was worried that the crates would provide a type of maze for escape. But I needn't worry. The SWAT members swung back and forth covering all places with practiced efficiency.

Heading to the center with Carlos and Sandborn the feeling of wrongness was multiplied a thousand fold as I got a good look at our query. They stood before us with no look of alarm or any real concern at all. Of course with how tall they all were it might be difficult to make an impression upon them, even with a tank. Towering over all of us they made me feel like I was standing in a forest of great pines. Each one of them was over ten feet tall, with arms and legs that were too long for their bodies. But what stuck out the most were the masks. They were both life-like and extremely fake, with overly exaggerated large, black eyes and tiny mouths that a baby spoon would barely fit in. Among these giants the comparably smaller man was surprisingly difficult to miss. Robed in dark clothes he portrayed a sense of power and domination, as if the universe itself should bow before him. Everything was wrong.

The smaller man took little notice of us as we moved, surrounding the giants. His posture portrayed annoyance at our interruption as if our raid was nothing more than a minor inconvenience to him. With a graceful step of a lifetime dancer the cloaked figured moved out of my line of sight. That was when everything went to hell. Later, I asked the two surviving SWAT team members if they saw him but they were so traumatized that they only cried, not responding to me at all.

It must have been hiding in the shipping crate. That's the only place something that big could hide. It was something from a nightmare and afterwards I did my best to convince myself that it wasn't real. A twisted combination of bone, stone and flesh, it defied imagination. I've been a fantasy fan since I was a child and nothing I've ever read or seen could describe this creature. The best I can do is to liken it to an immense, canine golem. It dwarfed the nearby tall men in masks, who shrieked in a wobbling musical tone before taking cover. Nightmarish, it had sections of gray hexagonal stones covering its hide with white cartilage connecting them that glistened in the light as the muscles beneath them flexed. Large, blackened talons decorated each paw that could shred a horse with a single swipe. A segmented, sinewy tail balanced a head the size of a small car with large, milky white eyes that darted around impossibly fast. Yet the most horrific aspect of this creature was its teeth. It had none. It had countless rows of human like fingers lining every millimeter of its immense mouth. There had to be thousands of them with callous tips and well-manicured nails. They twitched and writhed eager to pull something in. I think it was the combination of something so familiar in a creature so alien that made it so terrible, a vision from hell. I've dreamt of it every night since. Those rough fingertips touching me all over pulling me into my death.

Absolute fear consumed me. I ceased caring about anything except surviving. The drugs, upholding the law, doing my duty, all of it was meaningless in the face of such a monstrosity. The creature charged with a frenzy usually reserved for starving wolverines. Two died in the first second. Torn apart by large talons that shredded through body armor like tissue paper. We were all frozen, transfixed by the impossible. Even as guts spilled across the floor and the stench of blood and torn organs filled the air, we did nothing. Guns were held by all those men and not a single shot had been fired when its maw snapped shut on Carlos, engulfing his entire upper body.

Carlos, my friend and mentor, screaming as he was devoured whole, and I just sat there, watching him die. I didn't try to pull him out or shoot the monster. I just stood there slack-jawed. It wasn't a quick death. Those eager fingers pulled him in and pushed him down its throat. He never stopped screaming the entire time. Even after it swallowed him completely, and over the roar of gunfire we finally unleashed, I could still hear him screaming along with the slow crunching of bone.

Noise blended together and the world became surreal as echoing booms shook the warehouse. It was chaos. Men scrambling all around, firing everywhere. Unbelievably, most of the shots missed the huge-ass Canine golem, not that it would have helped. Explosions shatter the world as boxes blew apart, scattering bags filled with yellow crystals. Shouts and stifling fear filled the air, making it hard to breathe. People were dying. I wanted to help but as unidentifiable pieces of fleshy gore flew near my head all heroic thoughts fled, and so did I.

Running anywhere I had to to get away from the horror. I ran for all I was worth, breathing heavily as the sound of the dying men grew more distant with each step. After an unknowable time my senses returned slowly and I found myself outside, curled up under the SWAT van, My eyes wet with tears. Now a new emotion overwhelmed me at the realization at what I had done; shame. I ran without even trying to help my friend or those around me.

Blinking the tears from my eyes I rolled out from under the van, listening intently for sounds of gunfire or anything human. Nothing. Silence was thick in the air as I slowly made my way back inside, fear pulsing strong. I had to see. I cautiously peered around corners and held my breath, expecting that the beast was lurking around. My heart thudded so loudly that I was afraid it would give me away. Slowly I inched back toward the center, finding absolute carnage.

Torn and bloody bodies were scattered everywhere with bits of red, sticky flesh decorating the walls and crates. The thick stench of blood with the sour smell of shit permeated the air, making me vomit on the spot. All thoughts of stealth and caution were forgotten as my already relatively empty stomach regurgitated its contents. Lucky and impossibly the monster was gone. Standing upright I wiped my mouth, gazing around. How could such a monster just disappear? I wanted to believe I imagined the creature but there was plenty of evidence before me to suggest otherwise. Stumbling in shock I found two surviving SWAT members. Sandborn and someone else whom I didn't know. Both were worse off than me. While not physically harmed something important inside them had snapped. I could tell by looking in their eyes, the lost, haunted look of someone staring into the abyss.

Backup arrived twenty minutes later, finding me wandering around aimlessly. The others curled into fetal positions, crying. Perhaps even worse than all the deaths was the fact that all the drugs were gone too. Such a waste of life without even a little bit to show for it.

Hours later, wrapped in a blanket outside, I was sipping some brandy mixed with coffee, my hands shaking, when I was grilled by my superiors. The others were in no condition to give any statements, their mad shrieks echoing throughout the entire place. So I lied the best I could. Told them it was several starved bears they were keeping locked up that got loose. I told myself that was all it was. In my panic I misunderstood what I was seeing. Perhaps they had strapped chucks of granite to its hide. I'm not sure if they believed my story but it did look like an animal attack. I tried to believe it myself.

The day stretched out before me like a long barefoot march across burning sands. Every step was agony but fortunately I was numb to most of it. People blamed me for the disastrous raid, as if I should have predicted we would fight an unnamable horror. Mostly I just kept a vacant look on my face, staring past them. I just wanted to sleep and cry. Finally I was able to go home with the promise of another long day tomorrow but it didn't matter. Nothing did. I had failed everyone, Carlos most of all. Once I got home I collapsed on the bed. Exhaustion and guilt consumed me as I drifted off into a nightmarish sleep.

I awoke around 3 AM with a start. At first I thought it was from the nightmare. I dreamt of Carlos screaming as he was pulled into the maw of that creature by delicate lady fingers, each nail painted a bright happy yellow. In the dream the crunching of bone resonating loudly and it continued as I woke up. Frightened and in the grasp on the nightmare I huddled uselessly under my blankets, holding in a scream that threatened to erupt from my very core. I was still in bed when my front door gave way, crashing into the wall. Adrenaline shot through my system as I realized what an idiot I had been. Frantically scrambling out of bed I fumbled at the nightstand drawer with trembling fingers as clear, heavy footsteps approached my bedroom door. I opened the drawer and grabbed my gun from inside. Instantly my nerves calmed as if it was a talisman to ward me from evil. I turned as my door opened.

It didn't crash open dramatically nor did it slowly open as if by a monster sneaking up on a sleeping child. It opened casually like one would expect from a living companion, unrushed and not the least bit concerned about what was on the other side. In the doorway stood a tall, lean silhouette blocking most of the light from beyond. It was so tall that only its chest and abnormally long arms and legs were visible, the rest was still out of sight. It was one of the men from the warehouse nothing else could be that large. I didn't bother telling him to raise his arms or to lay down with his arms behind his head, I just shot the fucker.

Firing two rounds in rapid succession, I could see a slight shudder from the body, but he had no facial reaction at all. The tall man took a non-rushed step back out of the doorway, clearing my line of fire as I stood dumbfounded. I'm sure I hit him. After the flash of the gun I could see nothing but darkness all around me. My palms grew sweaty as I waited for something to happen. Several seconds passed by as I took deep breaths trying to calm down. I was considering firing into that doorway when a silky, cultured voice spoke.

"Officer Clifford, I wish to have words with you. Would you be so kind as to cease shooting at my servants? They are most resilient to such attacks but they do find them irritating." It was creepy that the speaker was utterly unconcerned that I was armed. I felt a burst of anger.

"Come on in," I told the voice trying to sound braver than I felt. "I don't like having conversations with people I can't see."

The voice laughed. "I will if you remain so uncooperative. You won't like it if I do. I could have taken you already if I so desired."

Not knowing what to say I blurted out the first thing that popped in my head. "Who are you?"

"My name would mean nothing to you. So why not, as a gesture of goodwill. My name is Solarkar of Primehouse Vanguise, disciple of Melephos." No trace of guile was present in the voice as if this was a perfectly reasonable answer.

"Nice name," I taunted to the unseen speaker. "I'm Sarah Clifford of house bullshit, high priestess of the porcelain god. Now what the fuck do you want?"

"You jest. No matter. Soon the truth will be clear enough to all. Do not stand in my way Sarah of house bullshit, or your fate will be more terrible than any other. Now for the purpose of my visit to your drab dwelling. Where have you hidden the vision?" His tone was cold, filled with menace and the promise of pain. My sight grew accustomed to the darkness and I could make out dim shapes in the area each one holding an unknown threat. Once again I considered just firing my gun blindly in a manic rage but I held myself in check. I lived in an urban neighborhood with good, friendly neighbors all around. I was certain that the police had already been called. All I had to do was stall and keep my head.

"The drugs from the traffic accident? Yeah I know where they are."

"Good then tell me now. I wish to conclude this business," Solarkar said in a reasonable tone. "Can't you just make more? I can't get it easily for you."

"The process is difficult, taking considerable time and effort. Give me what you took and I'll leave you to your illusion of reality," he said.

"It's a bad drug. People who take it go insane. If you're looking for a power play or money stick with meth. More returning customers. You need to work on your business model," I said, hearing faint sirens in the distance.

"I'm not interested in your paper currency and I have power already. Give it to me now. My patience grows thin Sarah of house bullshit."

"That's crap. People like you are always after money and power. You're just lying to yourself. Or have you been taking your own product?" The sirens were now closer, their screeching filling the room.

"Your kind is crude and limited in both mind and body, unable to grasp beyond your immediate existence. No wonder the ancient ones separated the worlds long ago. You would be extinct by now. I'm sure Melephos will rectify that in time." Although I couldn't see him, I could feel him smiling.

"Sounds like a real badass. Does he run your drug cartel?" For some reason Solarkar found this hilarious. He laughed at me and it was honest laughter as if I had said the funniest thing in the world. I couldn't help but grin at the flashing lights now illuminating the bedroom.

"I win," I told him, but I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Foolish child, let's take this conversation somewhere more private," he said, stepping into the doorway. He wasn't tall like the others nor did he have that stretched look. I couldn't see any features in the poor light but I didn't need any to kill him. Leveling my gun at the center of the outline I started to put pressure on the trigger, exhaling as I was trained to do, when suddenly he vanished. It was astounding. One second he was there, then next gone without a trace. I just stared at the empty spot, speechless. Getting to my feet I inched toward the now empty door when my world collapsed.

Up until this point I could have rationalized and explained everything, even if most of it was ridiculous. But this destroyed every aspect of what I consider true. One second I was in my middle class home with an automatic sprinkler system and cable TV with trash pickup every Friday, then I was in a world of madness. Nothing made sense. Everything was wrong. The plants were alien and much too large, with shapes that made my head hurt. Towering buildings were replaced by trees so massive they put skyscrapers so shame with strange protrusions along their surface. Massive, fist-sized insects skittered around, crawling on rotting vegetation.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Solarkar asks from directly behind me. I was so taken by my surroundings that I forgot all about the men who violated my home. Spinning I faced my attackers leveling my gun instinctively at them only to have it crumble in my hand. Once a well maintained firearm it was now a twisted mess of rust and fungus. Looking at my assailants I seriously doubted my gun would do much good in any case.

The tall men were more like slim giants. I saw my original assessment of their height didn't do them justice. Saying someone is over ten feet tall pales to the shear height when you're up close to them. They had pale skin and were completely naked, looming over me casting, me into shadow. They had no gender, it would be about my head height and no way could I miss it. Craning my head up, I let out a piteous moan as I took in the rest of my assailant. He or it was so tall I couldn't see his face he was just too fucking big. I wasn't afraid yet, I was too stunned to be afraid, but when he grabbed me with those long slender limbs all the terror of my situation flooded me like a typhoon. Effortlessly it pinned both my arms to my sides, lifting me easily as a child would a doll. It brought me up to eye level, studying me the way a dog breeder might a new pup. Screaming, I thrashed impotently in its iron grasp. It had a huge head the size of a watermelon with large, black, pupil-less eyes that seemed big even for that face. In contrast they had very tiny mouths and noses, even smaller than my own. They were completely hairless, none on their body or head, without even eyelashes or eyebrows to protect their sight.

He squeezed me slightly and I felt my ribs crack and my eyes bulge. I knew it could crush me if it wished. Losing all the air from my lungs, my screams were brought to an abrupt end as the giant lowered me closer to the ground to face Solarkar, my feet dangling in the air. He wasn't as small as I first thought. He only seemed that way compared to the tall men. Slender, with an unnatural grace and beauty, he moved with absolute confidence, like royalty. A luxurious mane of shoulder-length, green hair caressed his face, augmenting his blue skin. He was very human like besides the hair, skin and the eyes...

****

Sarah takes a deep breath, licking her lips. She regards me closely. "You have the same eyes as him, green slit-pupil, that are unnaturally bright." My stomach gives an unfriendly lurch as possibilities I had once dismissed as fantasy become a whole lot more likely.

"Please, continue," I say, not wanting to dwell on my possible origins.

"Yes, please go on," Whisper says from her lap.

"I don't recall much after that. I cried a lot. Begged them to take me home. He just kept asking about the drugs but I refused to tell him. It was my only bargaining chip. He hurt me in subtle ways and showed me horrors that made my earlier adventure seem tame and completely reasonable. Eventually he gave up and had one of the tall men put me in a flower."

"A flower?" Brick asks chewing on some wall plaster.

"Yes, it was huge, the size of a car filled with tiny bugs." She shudders. "He told me not to leave it if I wanted to live and that he would come back once a day to see if I didn't have a more satisfactory answer for him."

"What did you do?" Asks Whisper.

She smiles down at him. "Well, at first nothing. I cried and then I screamed for help until I was hoarse. Hours later I finally accepted the truth that I was going to die there. Even if I told Solarkar where the drugs were he would have likely left me yhere. And I realized I had nothing left to lose. Gathering my courage, I left my flower in desperation, trying to find my way home. Two hours later I was being chased by some viscous pack hunters only to be rescued by a boy riding a large white ferret." She gives me and Whisper a warm, thankful smile that no human has ever given me before. I straighten up, staring deep into her cool blue eyes, feeling something that I had rarely felt before. Pride.

### Chapter 8 – Getting Answers

A few hours later Sarah leaves, eager to return to her standard life. I can see that, despite everything that happened she is beginning to pull away from the truth. I'm not surprised. It's not that she doesn't believe, it's more that she doesn't want to think about it anymore. A standard trick that just about everyone uses at some point in their life. A wife ignoring a husband's infidelities, a poor man ignorant of his own mounting debt, and apparently police officers discovering that multiple worlds exist. She does insist that I return her to the normal human world. While Sarah was baffled by the events surrounding her I see it clearly. This Solarkar is a shifter, and not just a weak shifter like Brick, but someone on my level. With eyes similar to mine...

_Who is that man? What does he want?_ Despite Sarah's belief, he had no need of wealth or power to gain whatever he wants. The bag of money under my bed is a testament to that. No, something else is going on and it revolves around this drug, vision. Sarah described it as a yellow crystal but I see something else entirely. This happens occasionally. An object or creature can be radically different when viewed at different levels of reality. _What is its true nature? More importantly, why would a powerful shifter even bother?_

I express these concerns and conclusions to Sarah but it does no good. The foundation of her reality won't let her truly believe that this case is literally out of this world. I play with the idea of searching for evidence to convince her of the truth, but really, is it any of my business? Sure, my mother was killed because of this drug but in all likely-hood if vision didn't do her in, then another narcotic would have. She had been slowly dying for a long time. I hope she is finally at rest.

More pressing are the two men that were waiting for me at home that night I escaped. Now I can conclude that they must be human agents of this Solarkar, working for him without knowing his true nature or intention. Eclipsing everything is this name, Melephos. A shiver runs up my spine at the mere name. _Is this some forgotten horror dwelling in the other world?_

Sighing, I sink deeper into my sofa, my mind racing as I look to my front door, wishing Sarah would return. But she won't. She's back to her normal life, leaving her experiences and me behind. Well, maybe not entirely. My eyes drift down to her business card still in my hand.

"What should we do?" I say to Whisper, who's laying on the floor batting a large spider he found. The spider makes a desperate dash for freedom only to have Whisper cover it gently with a paw, dragging it back to him his tail twitching.

"We should help her," he says, never taking his eyes off his prey.

"I don't care about her," my shadow offers from his ceiling perch. "We should take more money. "

"We should offer our services as private consultants," Brick says, getting excited. "It would be just like a TV show! The paranormal investigators! Featuring Jerry Price as the spooky psychic kid with his trusty sidekicks. Whisper his ever faithful companion, the annoying, ill-tempered shadow, and most importantly the dashing, brilliant, ladies' man, with the face of an angel, voice of a siren, the all-knowing Gandalf of the world, Brick!"

Whisper and I laugh and my shadow scowls at Brick's rather impressive self-flattery. Still, it has merit. I do need to get a job instead of becoming a lifetime thief and Sarah will never be able to apprehend this guy without me. How can you stop someone that can shift away from reality unless you have someone on your team that can do the same?

"It's an interesting idea," I concede.

"We would need a building to work out of," Brick says. "I would also need my own office."

"Your own office? What would you do with an office?" I say, amused. He is stationed right above me, his face protruding from the wall with a happy, childish grin.

"Why, I would look down my secretary's blouse part of the day while giving out dictations for the rest. Every other week I would head out on assignment."

"Now we need a secretary too?" I laugh at the mental image. "How about Whisper be the secretary and shadow be the muscle. I'll give thoughtful monologues somehow relating the weather to the dark gloomy mood of our cases." We all laugh and I even get a small chuckle from my shadow. "Tell you what, Brick," I say. "Let's give Sarah a week or two to digest everything before we ask her about hiring us as supernatural consultants. In the meantime, let's walk the street and talk to some familiar faces after we do some shopping."

Three days later I stand outside the police station in a long, black trench coat with a large brown leather satchel holding Whisper under my arm. Glancing at the building, I stroll casually down to the side of the building, away from prying eyes. Laying a hand on the wall I send a small ripple across realities. Moments later Brick appears in the wall before me. "Ok, Brick. Go get your contacts before the police come by and arrest me for being a psycho right outside their station." Brick's features blend smoothly back into the wall, leaving no trace behind. Nervously I glance around, making sure my instructions to Brick weren't overheard.

Moments later Brick reappears with three other faces lined up in a row beside him. Each one is distinct just like human faces with their own personalities. The only universal characteristic is their love of gossip. The face farthest on the left has a square jawline with a squashed nose and eyes like quartz instead of Brick's granite ones. The face on Brick's immediate left has a hooked nose that would not be out place on a witch including what appears to be a wart on the chin. Although I can't be certain this one looks female. The last face on Brick's right is elderly, with deep wrinkles all over and several missing teeth, giving him a whistle when he speaks.

"Guys, this is Jerry and Whisper," Brick says.

"Hi!" Witch face says excitedly.

"Greetings," quartz eye says.

"It was mentioned that you have some quartz for us in exchange for our information," old man face says, sounding hopeful. Grinning I reach into my pocket, drawing out a handful of the crystals and giving several to each, including Brick.

Addressing the faces I say, "What can you tell me about vision and those that run it?" These faces are full-time residents in this building and have nothing else to do other than spy and gossip.

"Don Martian is cheating on his wife with his male bowling buddy" old man face offers.

"Cindy from the reception desk has a potent yeast infection. Everyone calls her 'sour dough' behind her back," witch face says.

"Most of the men can't hit the urinal. The floor is discolored and sticky," Quartz eye adds.

"I don't think this is helping," Whisper says. I sigh, clutching my head. Reaching into my pocket again I show them a hand full of mica. Their eyes glisten.

"Tell me about vision," I say slowly and clearly.

"It started showing up a year ago," witch face informs me.

"A lot of deaths at first. Then it slowed down and they went nuts instead," old man face adds.

"They weren't getting anywhere with the case. So, four months ago they made a huge task force," quartz eye says. "Still no real progress that we can see."

"How about the junkies that use it?" I ask.

"Those guys are messed up!" witch face says excitedly. "I watched a few try to kill a bunch of people."

"Did they look human?" I ask.

"Depends," old man face offers. "From the human world they look mostly normal. Eyes blacker than normal and sickly skin but otherwise ok."

"But when viewed from other levels of reality they change a lot. They look messed up with shrunken noses, large black eyes and fingers melding together," quartz eye says.

"The change seems to depend on how much they take," witch face offers. "Lower doses have several of these effects but don't cause insanity. Take a ton at once, and BAM! A few hours later, full cannibal snake men. If they survive they space out full time."

"There are several groups that hang out all around town," a new face says, appearing in the street near my feet. This face is almost twice as big as the others, with larger eyes and sharper teeth.

"Get out of here ground eater!" witch face says.

"Eat dog feces, rock face!" quartz eye says.

"Beat it, homeless tire streak!" old man face declares. Brick is silent.

"Knock it off," I say, kneeling down to address the new face. "Can you tell me what you know?"

"Sure," street face says. I've always liked the street faces, they are much less gossipy than the others. Maybe it's because they have more freedom to move around and aren't usually hanging around a single building. "There are plenty of large drug dens that offer refuge to the groupies scattered around downtown. I don't know much about it, due to the instability in the area. I can't approach them."

_Instability?_ I am about to ask about it when witch face spits directly on street face, hitting his eye. She gives a bark of derisive laughter. I turn angrily toward her, only to dodge just in time as all three faces open up a spitting barrage at the street face. It's utterly disgusting. Wads of mucus and spittle soak the area that I was just occupying along with the wall as street face returns fire. My shadow who had been quiet until now, laughs at the onslaught, encouraging both sides. I quickly distance myself with Brick trailing along.

"What the hell was that about!?" I ask.

"Wall dwellers hate street folk," Brick says simply.

"Why?" Asks Whisper.

"Prejudice is not just a human trait."

"You don't share this prejudice?" I ask.

"No," he says and for once does not volunteer additional information. Maybe it's a personal subject for him. Heading toward the alley exit we leave the faces spitting and cursing behind as I exit to the street.

"Now what?" Whisper asks.

"Let's go eat," I say. "Then head home."

"Can we get pizza?" Whisper asks hopefully.

After a trip to the pizza place where I feed Whisper two whole slices on the seat hidden from view we make it back home late in the day. The sun hasn't set yet and the sky is a brilliant orange, quickly fading to black. Walking up to the main entrance I leap back in alarm as Brick's face suddenly appears in the wall next to me.

"Jerry!"

"Damn it, Brick. Don't do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack," I exclaim.

"You can't go in there!" Brick says seriously. "Now what?" I say as Whisper pokes his head out of my satchel, listening in.

"There are two man-like creatures in our home!"

My stomach falls. "Man-like? You mean they aren't human?"

"Yes. In the human world they appear mostly human except really tall and dressed in business suits that don't fit them. But they exist beyond this world, definitely not human."

I nod, considering. These must be the tall men from the other world Sarah encountered. Creatures shifted here to play the part of enforcer for this Solarkar. What should I do? Various scenarios play through my mind. I could simply leave, get a new home and move on. But that would only delay the problem and I wouldn't get any answers. How did they find me? What do they want?

"Whisper, I'll shift them to your world and we'll get some answers. Shadow don't kill them."

"Sure," Whisper chirps, his blue eyes eager for the challenge. My shadow just laughs. I take that as a yes. Only Brick seems concerned.

"Jerry, this is serious. We don't know anything about these guys."

"Come on Brick. What would Dirty Harry do?" I urge.

"Do you feel lucky, punk?" He says, a slow grin crossing his features. He gives me a nod as I enter my apartment complex.

No sound of life greets me as I walk down the hall my sharp footsteps echoing loudly in the confined space. Whisper, now perched on my shoulder, stretches his long neck in every direction, sniffing the air. My shadow looms around me, my own personal angel of death. Stopping just outside my door I wait. Moments later Brick's face appears next to mine.

"They are in the far side of the room just standing there like redwoods," Brick says in a hushed tone. I nod and open the door slowly, letting it swing by itself.

I feel like a gunfighter entering a saloon, ready for the showdown. Just as Brick foretold they stand unconcerned at the far side of the room, and I feel a jolt of fear run down my spine. They are tall, everyone had described them so, but it didn't do them justice. Towering monolith seems more appropriate. They stretch to the ceiling and actually lean a bit forward so their heads don't rub against the plaster above. Dressed in gray business suits that don't fit them, their long limbed bodies are skeletally thin, sticking far out. They have the look of people who smile as they inform you that someone close to you had died. Their jackets end at the elbows and their pants at the knees. It reminds me of an adult dressed in clothes meant for a six year old. It should have looked funny but it doesn't. They have no shoes and their large, bulbous heads appear to be too big for their narrow frames. They don't move or make any sign that they are aware of my approach but I can feel them glaring at me. I swallow hard, taking a few more steps forward, committed to my course of action. Perspiration breaks out on my forehead as I wonder if I have been foolish and perhaps fatally arrogant.

"Hello, my tall guests. Tell me what does Solarkar want from me?" I ask trying to sound more informed than I am. Whisper is more direct, hissing at them.

Unconcerned with the angry ferret on my shoulder they make no attempt to move or acknowledge I had spoken at all. _Great they probably don't understand English_. I am about to try my repertoire of foreign curse words to get a response when the one on the right speaks. He has a soft, harmonious voice that is in direct contradiction to his threatening presence.

"Are you human, Jerry Price?" It asks, making my blood turn cold. This was definitely a stupid idea.

"Yes," I stammer, cursing my inability to lie on the spot. As if this was the answer they wanted the left one raises a black stone in his left hand. I tense, unsure what is going on. _Is he going to throw it at me?_ He does no such thing, instead he points the stone in my general direction and a bright, pure white light pulses from the stone, illuminating some type of sigil carved into its black glassy surface. Again my muscles tense, waiting for something to happen. No flash of blinding pain racks my body, no disintegration of my atoms, it doesn't seem to do anything at all. The two tall men are unconcerned or expect this as the right one speaks again.

"You lie. A mere human cannot shift. Tell us what you are." Then, without waiting for my response, he charges me.

Fast. He is so goddamn fast that he's more of a flowing blur than a humanoid creature. Before I can move or even give a cry of protest his strong, long-fingered hand wraps itself entirely around my head, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. Panic floods my system as an intense pressure tries to collapse my skull. _How can something so thin be so strong?_ I'm barely aware as Whisper launches himself from my shoulder, sinking his teeth deep into the offender's hand. He releases me and I fall on the floor, my head throbbing in pain. Looking up I see the tall man fling Whisper off his arm, sending him flying across the room.

"Whisper!" I scream in terror.

Twisting in mid-air Whisper recoils harmlessly off the far wall, landing on the sofa and hissing his fury. Furious, I turn my attention to the tall man, ready to shift him to the most horrible level of reality when my shadow descends upon him. Shrieking in terror at such a high octave that it could shatter glass, the tall man thrashes as my shadow covers his eyes. Focusing all my attention on the remaining tall man I get to my feet, starting toward him. I no longer care about getting answers. As I near him he pulls a long, thick sword from behind his back, where presumably he has a scabbard. I freeze, gawking at the ugly blade held at the ready in an alarmingly professional grip. The sword is unlike anything I've previously seen or even imagined. It's wet and glistening in the evening light and the color of a bone, like it was freshly pulled from some large animal. The blade is over four feet long with a wide base ending in a jagged tip that resembles a serrated hook. To me it's a monstrous two-handed long sword but to the tall man it's more like a pocket knife.

Adjusting his position the tall man crouches, readying himself. Taking a deep breath I focus my panicked thoughts away and shift myself...or at least I try too. The moment I leave reality behind I feel a bone-jarring push shoving me back to my reality as the stone in the tall man's left hand flares brightly. Fear grips me as I desperately fight against this alien force holding me in place. Again I shift, only to find myself repelled back once more as the sigil on the stone's surface flares brightly. I swear the tall man smirks at me as he rushes forward, blade at the ready.

Like his companion he's was impossibly fast and the moment he is in range he swings his sword in a blurring arc right at my torso. I can't dodge. He's just too goddamn fast. Pushing myself to the limits I shift just as his blade descends. Instead of being cleaved in two the blade sails harmlessly through the reality I was just occupying. The tall man stumbles in its wake at the unexpected lack of resistance. A wave of exhaustion pulses through my body as the stone in the tall man's hand flares and I am once again roughly shoved back into my reality, collapsing to my knees. I don't even feel it as my knees hit painfully on the shag green carpet, my hands coming to rest near the tall man's feet. Blood pounds in my head and I can feel every vein in my head ready to explode from the extreme pressure but I push myself for one last action. If I don't stop him the tall man will kill me and then Whisper. I can't allow that, even if it kills me. Gathering what little of my strength remains I shift a small patch of floor under the tall man's feet, my vision darkening for a second as I fight the stone's power.

I always wondered what would happen if I screwed up when shifting. If I shifted an object that occupied the same place as another would they crack from the force or simply shove each other aside? I never knew that answer. My skill in shifting is so strong that as long as I look where I'm going there is little danger. Now, looking at the mess of the tall man I realize how perilous it could be. Whatever force prevents my shifting it can't stop me from doing it for a second or two. As it turns out, that's plenty of time.

With no resistance beneath his bare feet the tall man falls in eerie slow motion, arms cartwheeling for some unseen ledge only to have the floor return abruptly to this reality in the middle of his chest. Like a twisted piece of art the tall man's torso protrudes oddly from the middle of the floor just below his arm pits melding flawlessly with the surrounding green shag carpet. His left arm merged with the floor just below the shoulder. A short distance away, sticking out of the carpet all by itself is part of his hand, the black stone still in its grip. I think the worst part is that there's no blood or sign that he had been harmed. It's like he was always there, part of the décor, only just now noticed. The stone is likewise partially merged, with half of the sigil hidden in the floor. It no longer pulses with unearthly energy, instead it's lifeless with large cracks crisscrossing its surface. Horrified at what I had done I give the torso a pathetic kick, backing away as it sways back and forth, held in place by the merged flesh beneath. Exhaustion suddenly slaps in the face, sending me into darkness.

Time passes as I wait in the darkness, but I'm not completely alone. A soft presence is near me, desperately trying to get my attention. My head throbs painfully and I keep my eyes closed, trying to regress back into the comfortable void. But the soft presence at my side is persistent. _Why won't it let me rest?_ A purring thrums loudly in my ear like thunder as a soft wetness strokes my cheek followed by the soft weight of fur on my face. I blink once and even that takes more effort than I thought possible.

"He's up!" A familiar voice calls out followed an indistinct reply as sounds begin to drift away once more. The furry mass settled on my chest begins rubbing against my face, more insistent than before. "Wake up! Shadow can't hold him much longer!"

_Shadow...that's right... my shadow was doing something important. But what? He... he was protecting me and Whisper... Whisper...Whisper!_ At that thought everything comes rushing back to me. My eyes fly open and in the light of the setting sun I find myself starring into Whisper's furry face, his whiskers twitching in agitation. I feel a weight leave my chest as Whisper leaps off me, nudging my head roughly. With a groan I sit up, looking around the room. I must have blacked out for only a minute because the tall man is still thrashing on the floor tryingto peel off the offending darkness.

"Hurry up, fool!" My shadow says from the dark figure. "I can't do this forever."

Shakily I get to my feet, swaying a bit as Whisper prances around, eager to help in some way.

"Jerry, over here!" Brick calls out, his eyes darting to me then to the sword resting on the carpet a few feet from the dead man protruding from the floor. I take a single unsteady step toward the weapon, my knees almost buckling, and then another. The third step comes more easily. By the time I reach down for the sword I am once again in full control. The blade is surprisingly light and doesn't have the feel of a weapon forged with heat and metal, no... this feels almost alive. Like it was grown. With a firm grip on the hilt I stride up to the thrashing tall man, pointing the tip in his general direction. At once the darkness withdraws, pooling at his feet before moving a slight distance away. The tall man stays huddled on the floor shaking slightly. Pushing aside all emotion I take two steps forward, leveling the blade directly at his face.

"Who are you?" I ask, my voice cold.

No answer.

"Things will go easier for you if you cooperate," I say.

Still no reply.

"Where is Solarkar?" I ask, a hint of anger creeping into my tone. Nothing. Hard to be scary when your half someone's size.

"Let me have him if he doesn't talk," my shadow says, a pool of darkness off to my left. I shake my head. "We can't give him to shadow," Whisper says. "Killing in self-defense or to feed is fine, but anything else is wrong."

"We aren't killing anyone...yet," I say, hoping to intimidate the tall man a bit. He just glares at me.

"We are missing the important part here," says Brick, appearing out of the wall near the tall man. "Hey, you dick-less bastard, how did you find us here?" Surprised I look down to see that Brick is right, the tall man's clothes having been too small to fit him properly had ripped in the struggle, laying everything bare, or in this case the lack of anything. This is the same creature Sarah saw and I've seen one before also, the day my mother died. They're from Whisper's world. The tall man glares at Brick, his eyes narrowing at the insult but doesn't respond. _So he can hear and see Brick huh? He has senses that can reach across realities... at least a bit._

"That's a good point. How did he find us?" Whisper asks.

"I have no idea, and I doubt no-nuts here will tell us," I say.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" My shadow says. "The human female told him. No one else knows we are here. You should have let me break her mind." _Could that be it?_

"No, Sarah wouldn't do that to us," Whisper says immediately.

"Perhaps she did in a fashion," Brick says, chewing thoughtfully on his lower lip.

"What?" Whisper and I say at the same time.

"Just hear me out. We know Sarah had evidence disappear before and they know that she works for the task force. Hell, they even found her home address. The fact that most of these agents of Solarkar are from the other world, including himself, means it's unlikely they could figure out all this by themselves. So from my extensive TV knowledge I must conclude that there is a double agent in the police department! Someone that knows you rescued her along with our location!" Brick says, giving a large grin at his own logic.

"Damn Brick. Ok, you get your own office," I say smiling.

"We should call Sarah," Whisper says. "She might be in danger or will be soon."

I nod. "You're right." Thinking back to what Sarah told us I have one more question I desperately want answered.

"Who or what is Melephos?"

This finally gets a response from the tall man. A feverous madness consumes him like an insane zealot.

"THE ANCIENT ONE SHALL RISE UP, TAKING THIS WORLD FOR HIS OWN! MAY HE DEVOUR ALL OF YOUR UNWORTHY KIND AS HE FEASTS ON YOUR SOULS FOR ALL ENTERITY!" The tall man shouts, spittle running down to his chin as he trembles in righteous fury.

"Well, not what I expected," Brick says looking concern.

"Yeah," I agree. "So what shall we do with him?"

"Kill him," my shadow says to no one's surprise.

"He's been defeated and we should leave here anyways. Let him go," Whisper offers.

"I don't want to let him go since he could warn them, but killing a helpless being is not right either..." Brick says, not really giving me anything to go on.

"Whisper, I think this is the same tall humanoid creature I've seen in your world. What can you tell me about them?"

Whisper sniffs the air deeply. "Yes, he does smell like one of them." He gives me a concerned look. "We call them the Hivetung. They are colony creatures and can be more troublesome than watchers when acting in large groups. They live in vast underground catacombs and breed lesser creatures to serve them. This one here is either a soldier or a worker. I don't think he's intelligent enough to be a higher caste."

The tall man glares at Whisper but doesn't respond. "Soldier and workers, you mean they are like ants?" I ask.

"A bit. They have more free will than ants but their desires align themselves with that of their leader's, essentially forcing them to obey. If this one is here that means an entire colony has allied with this Solarkar. Send this one back and he'll tell all to his colony."

I stand there considering as my arm trembles slightly from the effort to holding the sword. "I will shift him back to his world. That will give us plenty of time to leave here and talk with Sarah."

"Are you sure you can do it right now, Shifter?" Whisper asks, his voice laced with concern.

"I think so. I feel better already and that strange stone is broken."

"I like this plan," my shadow says, giving a dark chuckle. I give him a surprised look. _Since when does he approve of mercy?_ Realizing he's going to live, the tall man doesn't fight me as I lay a hand on his out-stretched leg, shifting him to his level of reality. Exhaustion tugs at me but I no longer feel that heavy resistance. Directing my sight into that level of reality I see him sitting in a jungle canopy. I am about to turn my sight back home when I notice an inky darkness slipping into that reality. It's my shadow. Before I can think he engulfs the tall man. This time the struggle is brief as my shadow, much stronger in the other worlds, consumes him, leaving nothing behind. Rage burns white hot in me as I watch my shadow return with a huge grin on his dark silhouette.

"Why the hell did you do that? We agreed to let him go," I say hotly.

"What happened?" Whisper asks.

"He killed the Hivetung," I say, glowering at my shadow.

"I only did what you secretly wanted. Besides he's basically an ant," my shadow says, grinning even wider at my mounting anger. "I couldn't take him here but there I'm so much stronger."

_Take him?_ I shake my head, seething in anger and then in exhaustion. Too much is happening too fast.

"Go away," I say with no real strength as a deep weariness sets in. I go to the counter where Sarah's business card waits. A small white card of sanity in my world of madness. My shadow gives me a mocking bow before leaving. I pick up the phone, dialing the listed number while looking at the tall man imbedded in my floor. I don't think I'm getting my deposit back.

The next day I am sitting on a park bench with Whisper on my lap, enjoying the warm sun on my face. The days are getting cooler as fall takes hold, leaves just starting to change. Reaching into the bag I withdraw a piece of sliced ham, giving it to Whisper who purrs in delight. Not many people are about but those that are regard me curiously and a bit warily. It only takes a crazy grin from me to end their curiosity and send them on their way.

I feel fairly content when Sarah arrives. She has none of the markings of her profession on her, although I have no doubt she has a gun on her somewhere. Dressed in faded blue jeans she has a loose fitting red sweater on that reads 'Touch My Coffee and Die' in black letters across the front. I decide to obey the sweater's advice and not touch the large coffee in her left hand. Her cheeks are a bit rosy from the cool air and her white blonde hair is neatly tucked away by a black wool hat. We sit in comfortable silence as the last person in sight leaves the area. Turning toward me Sarah has a friendly smile on her face.

"Hi, Jerry," Sarah says as she reaches out to scratch Whisper's head. "And hello to you too, Whisper." He purrs at her touch, getting off my lap and climbing into hers.

"Can he understand me?" She asks.

"Yes, but you can't understand him unless I shift you a bit."

She nods but does not indicate that she desires to do so. "Is the other one here?" She might be referring to Brick who is out on an assignment I had given him this morning, but from her expression she could only mean one thing.

"My shadow is always around. I think he's annoying some squirrels at the moment." Indeed an angry chattering from a nearby tree shows that he's already at work.

Sarah takes a long draft from her coffee before continuing. "You were rather cryptic in your call yesterday. So, what's going on?"

"Listen, you need my help with this vision mess. There are forces at work here you aren't prepared for. You can't stop Solarkar without me."

She just looks at me for a long moment then bursts out laughing, tears of mirth welling in her eyes. _This might be harder than I thought._ I let her laugh, getting it out of her system and trying to keep my annoyance in check. This is not unexpected but I had hoped for better.

Her mirth ending, she faces me once more with a friendly but patronizing smile. I feel the first stirrings of real anger. "Cute Jerry, but his isn't a game and you're still just a teen. Go to school, get a part-time job and a girlfriend."

"I'm trying to help," I say calmly, ignoring the anger building in me along with the girlfriend comment.

"Help by taking care of yourself. Go get a job flipping burgers and messing up people's orders. I'll come by to see you often, plus I tip well." She gives me a wink. I feel myself redden with anger or maybe from pleasure at her wink, I'm not sure which.

"What if I find the double agent for you?" I say bringing out the big guns.

Her amusement vanishes at my words and she finally gives me a serious look. "What double agent?"

I have her attention now. "The one working for Solarkar in the police force. I can find him for you along with Solarkar himself."

She stares at me for a long time. "How?" She doesn't bother to deny the double agents existence. It's refreshing to see Brick's logic hold true.

"Do you agree to let me help?"

"This isn't a game, Jerry. Tell me," Sarah says her temper also rising. I just shake my head.

"You can't do it without me and I need a job. I know you see me as some kid playing detective but I'm already involved, whether you like it or not." And so I tell her. I tell her what my uncle had said along with the two Hivetung waiting for me at my home. Her eyes grow wide in surprise at their demise.

"You killed them..." she says once I have finished.

"Well, mostly. My shadow killed one and I did the other. Both were in self-defense," I lie.

"You need to report this. You can't kill a person and not take responsibility."

"It wasn't a person," I counter, feeling defensive. "It was what Whisper calls a Hivetung. A sexless soldier drone and you better wise up because this Solarkar could have thousands or more at his command."

Sarah shakes her head. "The body..."

"It's gone," I say a bit harshly and she flinches at my words. "I shifted it away along with the floor it was stuck in. The only thing left is a hole in my floor. Besides I'm not living there anymore." She gave me a startled look. "I left this morning. It's stupid staying where your enemy expects to find you. I'm sure it says that somewhere in the _Art of War_ , if it doesn't it should."

"Jerry, this Solarkar wants money and power. It's all his kind ever wants. Nothing more."

"Dammit, Sarah!" I yell, my anger finally exploding. "He doesn't care about money and he has more power than almost anyone alive. He can take as much money as he wants at any point. I know. I did it already shifting myself right into a bank vault and taking some. This is much bigger than green paper." I say, using Whisper's description for it.

For a moment I wonder if I went too far. She looks at me for several long minutes as I calm myself, waiting for her response.

"Ok," she says.

"What?" I say, not daring to believe.

"You're right. I can't do this without you. I'll hire you as a private consultant. Too many things are falling into place and I've been a fool for not accepting the reality you've shown me. Besides, I'd rather you work with me than become a common criminal."

"I want that as well," I say, extending my hand to her. Whisper leaps off her lap and nimbly jumps on my shoulder, also waiting. Sarah stands, taking my extended hand. As we shake Whisper climbs down my arm to add his furry paw on top of our grasped hands. Sarah blinks in surprise and then we both burst out laughing.
Chapter 9 – Shifters Inc.

"So, how are you going to help?" Sarah asks, closing her car door as I get in the passenger side with Whisper on my lap and my shadow lingering on the roof.

"We catch the bad guys," Whisper says, and Sarah just gives him a look of incomprehension.

"First, we get some bargaining power from a hobby shop I know of, and then to the morgue to confirm what has been happening to the victims of vision," I say.

Sarah gives me a doubtful look. "How does any of that help?"

"Tell you what. If, by the time we are done at the morgue I haven't convinced you of my usefulness, I'll tell you everything I can and never bother you again."

"Fine," Sarah says, peeling out of the parking lot. "But I'm getting coffee first. I think I'll need it."

Two hours later we stand outside of the morgue, Sarah with an extra-large coffee and me with two thick bags with some rather heavy merchandise inside. Sarah's doubts about my usefulness and perhaps sanity rise a lot after we leave the store with my goods, though I'm sure she will understand soon, if Brick does his part.

The morgue is a cool white structure devoid of feelings, just like the dead inside. I almost wish it was black, with dark clouds hovering above it threatening rain but never pouring. That seems more appropriate for a place that houses the dead. Instead I am confronted with a clean white building with concrete steps leading up to a set of double doors that could have just as easily been the entrance to a library. Lifting my heavy bags I waddle slowly up the steps as Sarah quickly leaves me behind, sipping from her coffee. Opening the doors for me when I finally catch up, Sarah gives me a bemused look. Once inside I set the bags down gratefully, rubbing at my hands where the bag handles had left their mark in my flesh. Leaving me behind once more Sarah approaches the front desk, flashing a badge as she does so.

"Are we there yet?" Asks Whisper from my satchel.

"Not yet," I say in a hushed voice. "Stay quiet and hidden for now."

"A house for dead people, I feel like I'm at home," my shadow says, getting excited.

"Behave yourself. We only have one chance at this."

"Why should I?" My shadow demands.

I pause a second, thinking. "Don't interfere with what I'm doing but there is still plenty of fun you can have. There bound to be some technician doing an autopsy go wiggle its body parts or something. That should freak them out."

My shadow gives a booming laugh that echoes through the entire building at his pleasure in the idea. Even Sarah and the receptionist pause in their conversation, giving a shudder at the menace in the air even if they can't hear it.

"Splendid idea! I shall leave you to your business and conduct my own." He gives me what I can only describe as the most evil smile in the world before heading off in search of mayhem. Someone will have nightmares for weeks after this I'm sure.

Sarah returns a minute later, scowling. "Next time I'm trying to get you in somewhere don't hold conversations with unseen individuals," she says, handing me a visitor's badge which I clip to front of my trench cloak.

"Sorry," I say, blushing. "I was trying to get rid of my shadow for a while."

She blanches at that, nodding in both approval and understanding. "If anyone asks, you're a homicide witness and then refer all the questions to me."

"Ok, let's do it," I say lifting up the large bags once more.

Frowning at me Sarah says, "You need to leave those here."

"I can't. I'll need them."

She just shrugs. I pause, thinking for a second and then smile at her. Focusing I shifted both bags just far enough from human reality to render them invisible to normal folk. Sarah's eyes widen in surprise. She gives a nervous glance back at the man behind the counter who is occupied reading a magazine.

"What did you do?" She hisses at me.

"I shifted the bags. They are still in my hands but not in the human world. I can reach across planes."

"That's really weird," Sarah says, passing her hand through the spot where the bags had been.

"Yup," I say as I grit my teeth and head down the hall with Sarah. People we pass give me funny looks as I make my way with an awkward trot from my unseen burden. Several individuals take pity on me, pointing out the nearest restroom. Embarrassed, I thank them. No wonder everyone thinks I'm insane. Brick had better show up.

At the end of a long corridor we take an elevator down to the basement; to the cold storage and the dead resting within. Passing through a set of double doors we enter a medical lab Frankenstein would be proud of. Lined up three high on the far left wall are metal slabs for the dead kept in a giant refrigeration unit. Along the right walls are tools for cutting and dissecting the human body part by part with a single office at the end. A man is inside, clearly visible through the window. Multiple autopsy tables are lined up with medical instruments set in neat rows on metal trays. Suddenly two orderlies in white uniforms rush past us, pushing a metal table with a naked male cadaver on it in a partial state of dissection. Both men are deathly pale like they had seen a ghost, sweat soaking their clothes. A moment later the reason reveals itself as my shadow, hidden under the body he moves the corpse's hand, giving them the finger. They burst through the doors quickly leaving us behind as they mutter a wide variety of curse words.

"He's still alive, oh god, oh god, oh god," one says. The other just sobs, sniveling something indistinct.

The man from the nearby office comes out in a rush, looking first to us then the backs of the men already moving down the hall. Sarah gives me a look and I just shrug.

"Can I help you?" He asks not looking at us, instead focusing on the figures moving farther away.

"I need to see the three newest vision deaths. I've got a valuable witness and I'll need some privacy," she says gesturing to me. "Give us ten minutes alone."

"Sure," the man says as both orderlies shriek. Through the windows set in the doors I see the corpse roll off the gurney. "Take twenty." And he leaves through the doors, rushing to the men.

"What the hell are you doing?" He calls out to them. The double doors close slowly, giving me a clear view of the corpse and the men. "Get that body back in here."

"He's still alive," one man says.

"Nonsense, most of the organs have already been removed. You're seeing things. Now turn around and... oh shit!" The office man cries out as my shadow forces the corpse into a sitting position, spilling out intestines. The doors fully close, blocking my view and most of the sound.

Sarah gives me a questioning look. "I didn't do it. I swear!" I think my amused grin doesn't convince her.

"So, what now?" Sarah asks. "You want to see the bodies?"

"Yes. If you could open the drawers I'll be right there."

She gives me a look like I am mad and goes to comply, probably figuring it's easier to humor me than demand explanations at every turn. I stride to the wall, setting down my heavy bags and laying my hand on the wall, sending a ripple outward across realities.

Trusting in Brick I move to join Sarah at the dead bodies as she pulls open the last drawer. It's as I thought, these don't look human anymore. Just like my mother they had changed into a grotesque imitation of a human being. Their eyes are huge and completely black like dark opals. Their noses have been reduced to a pair of small holes sticking out of their flesh like it had been brutally shoved into their faces leaving only the nostrils behind. Clammy skin that resembles gray clay covers their bodies and appears to be flaking in places. I'm not sure if it's from the transformation or a natural process of decay. Like the ones I encountered their hands had melded and merged into a three fingered mess, ending in thick charcoal-colored talons. Looking at Sarah, I study her face, seeing if she notices anything wrong. Nothing. She retains her professional calm and demeanor. To her these are just bodies.

"See anything wrong with them?" I ask.

"Other than the fact that they are dead? No. They are gaunt with deep rings under their eyes but that's standard for an OD. The black veins in their eyes are signs of vision addiction." "Not for long," I say, laying my hand on her arm and shifting her. Sarah's reaction is immediate. Her eyes grow large and she quickly backs away, bumping into a cart holding medical tools. A scalpel clatters to the floor, ringing loudly in the silence as Sarah stares transfixed at the bodies. After her initial surprise she tentatively takes a step forward, toward me and the corpse.

"What did you do?" She asks, her voice a rasp.

I shrug. "I shifted you to my level of reality. You are seeing what I am... for the most part." Of course I can see much more and at different levels if I try.

"And me!" Whisper adds poking his head out of my satchel. Sarah visibly relaxes at Whisper's voice, giving him a warm smile and became Officer Clifford once more. She returns her attention to the cadaver, putting on surgical gloves and examining every abnormality of the body from the overly large eyes to the three fingered claws.

"Amazing," she says turning toward me. "Is this what they really are?"

Again I shrug. "They were human once, but after vision they became something more. They now exist farther from the human world than normal people do." Sarah looks confused.

"I'll try to explain," I say, taking a deep breath and gathering my thoughts. "Remember how I said the human world is sitting on an ocean of realities with many layers beneath? Well, we are like living creatures in that ocean. Some are very big, stretching across many layers at the same time, while others are narrow, existing in their immediate level only. Humans are the narrowest creatures I know of, aware of their current environment and existing almost exclusively there. I know of a certain willow tree that exists here all the way down to Whisper's world. It the biggest creature I know of but it's still mostly a tree. These bodies..." I say, gesturing, "Now exist further across realities than before."

"Why?" Sarah asks.

"I have no idea why anyone would do this. We will have to ask this Solarkar when we catch him." I grin.

Sarah and I are joined by Brick a second later. "Hello, beautiful!" Brick declares, undoubtedly to Sarah.

"How many times have I told you not to call me that?" I ask Brick, perfectly aware that it was zero.

"Oh, witty today aren't we?" He replies.

"Yeah, he was talking to me," Whisper says, poking his head out of the satchel.

"Of course, my furry friend," Brick replies.

"Everything all set?" I ask before we get too distracted.

"Yup. Just holding back for now to make sure the lovely lady doesn't freak out and shoot the wall," Brick says, focusing on Sarah. Indeed a valid concern, things will get strange in the next minute or two. Turning my attention to Sarah I see that she is composed enough, although maybe a bit rattled by Brick's sudden appearance.

"You doing ok?" I ask her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says, eyes never leaving Brick's face. "You're Brick, right?"

"Indeed I am, my fair lady," Brick says, flashing those white teeth that put the wall to shame.

"Umm, ok," Sarah says a bit uncertainly.

"Enough of the pleasantries," I say. "Sarah, don't panic. Things are about to get strange, even for me. Brick go get them." Brick recedes into the wall and Sarah gives me a confused look when the answer becomes obvious.

Over a hundred faces jut out from the walls surrounding us, including the. They beam all around, excitedly chatting with each other like a gaggle of teenage girls.

I place my fingers in my mouth and blow loudly. A shrill whistle fills the air and the noise dies down. All the faces turn toward me, waiting. Even I find that a bit creepy.

"Hello gentle... faces," I say lamely. "We need some assistance as I'm sure Brick mentioned to you." Some mumbling at my words and Brick beams at me. "We have reason to believe that this Solarkar has a double agent in the police force. I want half of you to follow and track down this lead and the other half to visit every scum pit you know of to find and trace vision back to its source."

"Why should we?" Asks a face from the sea of them on the wall. There's a muttering of agreement on this. Walking to the bags I withdraw handfuls of stone, everything from quartz and mica to decorative granite cubes. All faces visibly brighten at the goods and I am glad they are stuck on the wall or they might be swarming me to get at the goodies.

"Everyone gets a handful now and another after. To the ones who bring me the information I'll give an entire bag-full too," I say and excited conversation erupts. Turning toward Sarah, I flash her a smile as she gawks in wide-eyed amazement. Not wanting to linger here too long in case my shadow grows bored of his mischief I begin handing out mouthfuls of the stones to each face. They push and shove each other, trying to be first and I shovel rocks into mouths as fast as I can. I cannot properly express the sound of a hundred faces chewing on hard stones. I can only imagine that a rock query might contain equivalent noise at full production. Once the commotion dies down I address the faces once more.

"Bring everything to Brick, he organizes it." The faces all glow with purpose, having something to do other than their typical gossip. No doubt, like Brick, they're all pretending to play detective. One by one they regress into the wall, its surface becoming flat once more.

I can almost see a chessboard in front of me with Solarkar on the opposite side, face hidden by black robes. Now that the pawns are out of the way I just made the first big move.

We exit the morgue and my shadow joins us as an ambulance pulls up, its lights flashing and sirens wailing.

"What fun!" He declares over the roar as he pooled near my feet, rippling like water in the wind. Sarah doesn't notice his dark presence, having been returned to her world before we left the building "Well, at least that's not my problem. Can't you leave your... shadow behind next time?" She asks.

"No more than you can leave yours behind," I reply.

She nods in weary acceptance. "How long do you think it will take to find something?"

"Not long, I think. The faces are everywhere and they do so love to gossip. I'll call you when I find something."

"Can I drive you home?" She asks.

"Ok, but tell no one where I am. If someone asks, tell them my old address and keep a careful eye on them."

"That's for the best," she agrees.

****

It takes four days to finally get something and I had grown dull from boredom. I had even taken to reading the tabloids to pass the time. The front cover of yesterday's issue read, 'Zombies rise at Morgue Flipping off Doctors.' I begin to worry that my brilliant plan was a dud after all, but just as my hope is failing Brick appears. He seems ecstatic, as if his dreams of becoming a real private eye had come true.

"We got them!" He declares.

"Great," I say, jumping up off the bed where I had been dozing with Whisper. I stretch, rubbing my eyes and yawning loudly.

"Where?" I ask, reaching for a disposable cell phone lying on top of the old white nightstand near the bed with Sarah's business card next to it.

"It's complicated. Have Sarah come over so I can explain just once," I nod and make the call.

Thirty-four minutes later there's a loud pounding on my motel door. The room is cramped yet as clean as I could make it despite living here for over a week. My meager possessions are neatly organized around the room in a manner that would even impress an anal-retentive librarian. My need to maintain order and cleanliness is as strong as ever. At least it renders last second clean up before company comes over irrelevant. Moving to the front door I do a quick glance out the window, confirming Sarah's identity before letting her in. Sarah isn't trying to be nondescript today. Dressed in a nice blue coat with the word POLICE stenciled on the back in bold yellow font she wears nice, professional clothes underneath that could be described as office casual, minus the gun under her arm of course. I think she just came from a crime scene for her face is a mask of suppressed rage that makes me want to confess all of my sins before she can explode at me.

"What do you have?" She asks, taking a seat on the bed and taking a long sip from an alarmingly large coffee mug.

"Not sure yet. Brick wanted to wait until you got here," I reply.

"You don't know yet?" She barks angrily at me. The noise disturbs Whisper who was still napping on the bed. He raises his head, giving Sarah what could only be called a ferret scowl. Whisper might like Sarah but he wouldn't tolerate anyone mistreating me. Shocked at her response I flinch away. A look of hurt must have crossed my features for her face immediately softens.

"Sorry," she mutters. "I was just at another vision death scene. It was bad. Some mother OD and ate her two kids. Bits were everywhere and she was still eating when we arrived." Her face visibly darkens at the memory. She looks both disgusted and angry at the same time.

"That's horrible," Whisper says and I nod my agreement.

"A practical use for children as appetizers!" My shadow laughs and I throw him an angry look but don't respond.

"Let's listen to Brick and perhaps we can do something about it today," I say, reaching for her arm. I gently touch her arm and in a blink I have shifted her. Having experienced this several times now she knows what to expect and doesn't flinch at my shadow's silhouette leaning against the wal,l leering at her. She moves quickly to Brick's grinning face above the bed.

"Hello, fair lady Sarah," Brick says, giving her a long exaggerated wink.

"Hi Brick, please tell me you have something I really need it." The urgent need in her voice must have impressed upon him the importance of the situation. He gives a single nod before sinking into the wall. A moment later he reappears with another face. I've never seen one of Brick's kind show any fear or concern. Life is a game to them, being able to hide in walls offers great protection, yet this one is. It's female, with a short button nose and a wide mouth that stretches all the way across her face with a few missing teeth, but it's her topaz colored eyes that tell me she's afraid... terrified even.

"Tell them," Brick tells her.

"We did like you asked, following and observing everyone at the station. I was following an older man by the name of James Standworth with four others." The female face says and Sarah inhales sharply but does not interrupt. "Early today he got a cell phone call that made the color drain from his face like he was just told of his own imminent death. He immediately dropped everything, going to his car and we joined him."

"You can go in cars?" I ask.

"Yes, it's uncomfortable but we can travel around easier that way," Brick says.

The female face nods in agreement. "He did a short drive to a warehouse near the station." Sarah's eye narrowed, no doubt thinking the same thing I was, the same place as her disastrous raid.

"We tried to enter the building when it happened. Some kind of energy pulse, shifting all those caught in the walls into a different reality. The others were taken and I luckily managed to avoid it. After that I fled, looking for Brick. Something bad is happening."

Yes, something bad indeed. "Sarah," I say. "Take me to this warehouse. I need to see it."

"There's nothing there. All empty," she counters.

"No. I need to SEE it," I emphasize and her eyes widen, arriving at the same conclusion I had.

### Chapter 10 – Your Reality Or Mine?

The daylight fades to a burning red on the horizon, casting the city in its glow like it's on fire. _An omen?_ I don't usually believe in such nonsense but as we swiftly move in and out of shadows cast by large buildings I begin to wonder. In the driver's seat Sarah Clifford focuses intently ahead, her hands strangling the steering wheel. Perhaps she is pretending its Solarkar's throat. I try to feel angry or determined, hell I would even settle for repressed excitement like Whisper, who stands on my lap with his front paws on the passenger window. But I feel none of these. Mostly I'm concerned. I know this Solarkar is up to something big, something dangerous on a scale the world has never seen. He has to be stopped now, before it can reach critical mass. I feel the sand in the world's hourglass draining as each minute passes by. Imagine me, Jerry Price, protecting the world which has mistreated me so. I secretly envy my shadow at times. A being with absolutely no concern for others except in the ways they might provide him with pleasure. Such a simple life.

"Do you know what we will find?" Sarah asks, never taking her eyes from the road. The car tires squeal as she takes an extremely sharp left turn. Sarah's face is harder than steel. She asked me this twice already, expecting that I mysteriously gained some brilliant insight since the last inquiry five minutes ago. Now, instead of treating me like some kid playing detective she acts like I'm some kind of other worldly expect. An improvement I suppose. In truth, I have absolutely no idea what we will find, it could be anything or nothing at all.

I shake my head. "I don't know."

She gives a grunt of disappointment. Wanting to give her something more substantial I send my gaze into the other worlds at various depths. The closest distinct world is the one Brick's kind occupy. It's mostly empty; devoid of any vegetation and containing a few horrors like the black sand. My sight usually skips that world altogether, the sparse life there not worth my attention.

Further down is Whisper's world and my gaze automatically drifts there. In stark contrast to the world above it, that world is rich in life and diversity, containing the hivetung and watchers along with countless other species. Seeing further isn't possible unless I shift closer and I have no desire to do so, remembering the viscous orange goo, the twisted flesh and bone trees and of course the giant maw resembling a cave that tried to kill me.

The landscape before me is a dizzying blur as trees speed by and I refocus on my immediate world just as Sarah makes another hard left. I am almost thrown out of my seat by the inertia from the car, wishing I had put on my seat belt. Whisper is not perturbed by the ride, his tail swishing back and forth in excitement. I think about asking Sarah to slow down but one look at her stony features is enough to activate my self-preservation instinct and I remain silent.

We pull into a parking lot that is nearly deserted with grass and various weeds attempting to retake the land, bursting through the pavement like zits. A short distance away stands the warehouse and a single glance tells me everything. We are in deep shit. The deserted parking lot and the nondescript building don't concern me. It's the giant structure in Whisper's world that occupies the same exact spot that has me dumbfounded.

It's a hivetung hive. It can be nothing else. I absently scoop up Whisper, placing him in my satchel and exit the car, approaching the hive, transfixed. Dozens of hivetung busy themselves outside the structure, each towering over me, nude and genderless like the others I've seen. They move with purpose, cutting vegetation away from the hive with bone swords like the one I have at the motel. They have cleared a swath of land in a large perimeter around the hive and are now chopping up bits of fallen trees, bringing them inside the tall but relatively narrow opening of the hive while others carry bone basins brimming with water.

The hive itself is unlike anything I've ever seen. Tall and imposing, it towers high in the air, dwarfing the nearby trees and nearly as tall as a skyscraper. My first thought is that the hive is composed of sand but as I draw near I see that most of it is massive, sun-bleached bones, most significantly larger than the hivetung themselves. Bones of creatures they killed? Stones and what appear to be hardened sap fill the gaps, making a wall more solid than concrete.

No wonder Sarah couldn't find the source of vision, it must be here, produced in another world, out of reach to all except to those that can shift. Looking at the hivetung hacking at the thick vegetation with smooth broad strokes of their bone swords, I think it might be out of my reach as well. The two hivetung waiting for me at my apartment had nearly been my end. What could I do against the two dozen outside or the scores within?

A thundering cry erupts from the thick jungle canopy and ten hivetung appear dragging a thick, roughly spun net into the clearing holding half dozen watchers thoroughly tangled within. They give fearful yips as they claw the net, their heads springing forward only to entangle themselves even further. Cheers of approval rise from the workers outside as the hunters drag their catch inside the hive. The entrance appears large to me but for the hivetung it's just enough room for them to pass two abreast. Looking further inside the opening I can see a jagged bone rampart with more hivetung watching the activity below, armed with bone bows and spears, a easily defensible position.

I start forward, wanting to expose the secrets within when a sharp tug brings my attention back to my own world. Sarah looks pissed with her hand clasped tightly onto my arm.

"What the hell are you doing?" She yells and I notice I had almost walked into a wall. I had been so focused looking into another world I hadn't been paying attention to where my physical body was. It's happened before much to my embarrassment.

"Sorry, I was a bit distracted. I think I found the source of vision," I say.

"You did? Tell me!" Sarah says, her voice ripe with triumph and Whisper pokes his head out of my satchel eager to know. I tell them. I can actually see the emotions change on Sarah's face like she is living a lifetime of experiences crammed into a few seconds. As I speak the triumph leaves her eyes. It changes to fear mixed with anger then to overwhelming despair as her dreams of ending vision vanish. Whisper, ever the brave, noble warrior is unperturbed.

"Don't worry, Sarah. Any foe can fall if approached correctly," he says in his purring tone. Sarah just looks at him, not understanding.

"Whisper's right, we can still do something," I say, giving her a confident smile. "After all, you have a shifter with you." The grip on my arm changes to something gentle, almost affectionate. I feel myself redden as she gazes deep into my eyes, her cool blue ones showing gratitude and perhaps something more.

I cough to cover my embarrassment. "Let's go inside so I can get a proper look." She doesn't let go of my arm as we stride inside. A disgusted grunt from my shadow tells me that all the gooey feely stuff is making him sick and a second later a dark blotch speeds far away from me. Whisper however, gives me a wide ferret grin.

Any enjoyment I had from Sarah's affection dissipates once we enter the warehouse. Of course the contents of the storage facility are just as she described. It's what I see in Whisper's world that shakes my foundation, killing any hope of ending this swiftly. Whisper had said that a hivetung colony could be populous but I don't think he did it justice. It's more like a ninety-five percent off sale on Black Friday. Hivetung are everywhere, busy with various tasks and I doubt I can find a safe place to shift without being instantly discovered or stepped on. But it's pointless to even try, for the same strange sigil stones I encountered before are imbedded in the walls and floors with overlapping fields of forbiddance. Stretching outward I try to shift just a tiny bit closer. The reaction is immediate as several stones flare to life. A powerful force slams into me before I can move the slightest bit toward the reality they occupy. I stumble with the feedback and Sarah, who is still clutching my arm, steadies me. Surely all this protection against shifters can't be directed solely at me.

Regardless of whom the sigil stones are there to thwart, my attempted intrusion into the hive does not go unnoticed. Like stepping on a fire ant mound the nearest hivetung, seeing the stones flare to life, sends out the alarm. Bone swords are drawn and the hivetung stop what they are doing, scanning every shadowy corner looking for intruders.

"Well, I think I pissed on the ant hive. They know someone at some reality tried to shift," I say.

"How could they know that?" Whisper asks.

"They have sigil stones all over the place," I say. "They flared up when I tried to shift a second ago. Sarah, show me the spot where the monster and hivetung where. Quick, before something happens."

She doesn't demand an explanation. Perhaps I've finally won her over with my winning personality. More likely she remembers her last time here and the resulting slaughter. A valid concern. We dart quickly around large metal containers like those found on large cargo ships, reaching our destination a minute later. We're near the core of the hive and the spot Sarah gestures to in her world is an empty area with nothing of significance. That is the exact opposite of what exists in the other world.

In a chamber designed for a king there's a slightly raised dais dominating the area with a throne of bone in the center. Resting atop it like a barbarian warlord, is Solarkar. It can be no other. Though significantly smaller than the hivetung he has an aura of absolute command surrounding him as if it's his divine right to be instantly obeyed. Solarkar now wears a gray scaly suit of armor that looks like it had been peeled off some monstrous snake, covering him from the neck down, leaving only his hands and head exposed. Overlapping thin stone triangle plates decorate his torso, each one with an unknown sigil carved into its surface glowing with power. He looks nothing less than a deity overlooking his subjects. He's eerily similar to the young girl from my vision so long ago, both in demeanor and appearance. His skin has a bluish hue to it and the strange green leafy hair that moves in disturbing ways. His eyes are unnaturally bright with slit pupils that resemble my own. My attention is so fixated on the man that I nearly miss the large, canine golem bound to a tall pillar of stone next to Solarkar. It lets out a long howl, opening its maw wide revealing countless human fingers, each one twitching. The damn thing is just as big as Whisper when he's in his world. Not a comforting thought.

The alarm reaches the dais and Solarkar's head snaps to attention as his eyes go distant, scanning not the horizon but various realities. I can feel it. Grabbing Sarah's arm I quickly dart behind a large shipping container, hiding us from view.

"Stay here and be quiet," I hiss, handing her the satchel holding Whisper. "Both of you," I add as Whisper pokes his head out. Ignoring the look they give me I lean out from my hiding spot. Solarkar is now standing, straining to see all. Several hivetung approach his dais armed with those bone swords, ready to obey their lord. After exchanging words in a musical tongue they stand in a semi-circle around Solarkar. Unlike the rest of the hive no sigil stones decorate the dais and he can shift his forces at will. Solarkar's features take on a serene look as he closes his eyes. Suddenly, a sonar-like pulse emits from him, echoing across all realities. It passes through the shipping container along with Sarah and Whisper but when it hits me it resonates back, reflected by the part of me that allows me to shift. Solarkar smiles.

"So, disciples of Belaroth or agents of my kindred have not come for me. Instead the interfering gnat has shown itself at last. Disappointing that such an insignificant creature should succeed where they have failed thus far," Solarkar says, his cultured voice reaching my ears despite the worlds that separate us. I give Sarah a quick look but her face shows no recognition; she can't hear him. Pressing my fingers to my lips, I gesture for her to stay put.

"You expended a lot of resources trying to swat a single gnat," I say, stepping out from behind the container. I hope my voice doesn't betray my churning stomach or sweaty palms. Solarkar's face locks immediately onto mine and we glare at each other through realities. His gaze travels from my plain sneakers to my black trench coat and settles on my face, specifically on my eyes. He appraises me like a master hunter deciding whether or not to take a young buck.

"Who's thy sire, boy?" The sentence is archaic and it takes me a second to understand his meaning.

"You tell me," I say, trying to hide my ignorance.

He laughs at me. It'sa cruel laugh. I hide my discomfort, showing nothing.

"Of course, you don't know. Your sire planted his seed, doubtful that it could take root before the first world called him back. Still, from your abilities and countenance you must be from one of the Primehouses. It explains why he told me about you. We might even be blood kin."

_He? He who?_ I remain silent, my mind racing. His confirmation of my origins isn't unexpected, still it is unsettling. He drew closer studying me closely, perhaps trying to determine my parentage and a part of me hopes he will succeed. After a few more seconds he shakes his head.

"There is too much human in you for me to see. No one in court would ever admit to such an act. The mixing of different ancient one's creations blood is sacrilege." He comes even closer as he speaks and I tense, waiting.

"It doesn't matter who my father is, Solarkar," I say, purposely using his name. "Why are you making vision? You don't need money or power. Do you just get a kick out of watching people eating each other? I guess I'll just ask Belaroth and find out," I say, throwing out the name he had used earlier, trying to provoke him.

Snarling he lunges forward, seizing my arm and dragging me to his reality...or at least he tries too. His pull is strong with flawless control but I am far stronger. Gritting my teeth I hold firm, unmoving as a mountain. He could no more shift me against my will than my shadow could help an old lady cross the street. Solarkar's eyes widen in disbelief at my resistance, then changes to fear as I clamp onto his arm, pulling him instead. He fights, seeming to claw at reality itself, trying to find a handhold to anchor himself but it's useless. He is nearly in my reality when he suddenly pivots, landing a kick to my midsection. The blow is weak from both his position and the realities separating us but the surprise strike makes me lose my grasp on his arm and he pulls away, returning to his stronghold. I reach for him again, determined to finish this, but he nimbly dodges aside, moving to the edge of the dais and throwing his arms wide.

The air around the dais ripples as reality begins to distort and Solarkar shifts the whole thing to my world, including the hivetung and the canine golem. I didn't know such a thing was possible and instinctively I throw my will against his, my raw shifting strength against his practiced, smooth control. The struggle is intense but brief. He screams as I break his power with my own. Blue blood gushes he collapses to his knees. My own head throbs from the effort but I keep my feet, lunging for him once more. Solarkar can't rise in time and I think victory is mine when he does an awkward roll off the raised dais, landing on the ground a foot below onto the sigil stones.

"No!" I snarl, but it's useless. He's already beyond my reach. He gives me a sneer worthy of a British royal but I can see fear in his eyes. I had frightened him badly.

"I underestimated you, boy. I won't do so again," Solarkar says, stumbling to his feet as more hivetung come into the central chamber standing on the dais. If he manages to shift a single one to my world it would be trouble, especially if they manage to get to an area protected by the sigil stones before I could shift them away.

"We shall see," I say, running from the dais. I grab Sarah and Whisper as I pass their hiding spot.

"What the..." Sarah begins as I drag her through the maze of metal containers.

"Something's coming," I say, and the color drains from her face. She puts on an impressive burst of speed, quickly outpacing me. She is out of the building and into the car revving the engine just as I exit the warehouse. Her fear is so intense that for a wild moment I am afraid that she might leave me behind.

Opening the passenger door she makes frantic gestures for me to get in. I need no encouragement. Slipping into the passenger seat I slam the door shut just as four hivetung exit the building, each unclad and wielding their bone swords. Moving swiftly with long strides they nearly reach us as Sarah floors the accelerator, tires squealing in protest. Burnt rubber fills my nose leaving an acrid taste in my mouth, which quickly leaves my mind as the nearest hivetung swings his sword at my window. Ducking and shielding Whisper with my body I am showered with fragmented glass as the blade cleaves through the metal frame and window alike.

"Shit!" Sarah yells as we hit a large bump, jostling me from my cowering position. Daring to look up I see cars swerve out of the way as Sarah pulls us roughly on the road still accelerating wildly. Turning around I see the hivetung fall behind. She curses again as we barely avoid rear-ending a rather hefty SUV in front of us.

"Take it easy! We made it, they're gone!" I cry now more frightened of the traffic in front of me. For a moment she ignores me, driving with a recklessness usually reserved for adolescent boys playing video games. I am seriously debating if I should dive out of the car when her death grip on the wheel eases and she slows down to her normal, only slightly suicidal pace.

"Did we win?" Whisper asks and I sigh.

Hours later we sit in my motel room, each of us brooding over events in our own ways. Brick is in one of the adjoining rooms watching TV. He claims that it helps him think, but I have my doubts. My shadow, being his usual self doesn't care at all and is off tormenting someone who would likely require extensive therapy and medication afterwards. Sitting on my bed Sarah has Whisper curled up in her lap, absently stroking his fur. Both of them have the look of someone stumbling over a rather complex physics problem. I sit in the only chair in the room next to the bed with my trophy bone sword in my lap.

The sword could withstand shifting between worlds; that was evident now from the hivetung that had pursued us. Perhaps because it is organic and not an artificial construction using metal. Still what good is it? I can't realistically shift inside the hive without being overwhelmed in seconds. I'm sure that the dais which also functions as Solarkar's throne room is guarded continuously, especially now. The outside of the hive isn't much better, with dozens of hivetung patrolling the area. A brief mental image of myself charging the hive entrance, sword in hand only to be literally stepped on by the first hivetung I encounter. A likely scenario. Even if I get past the main entrance there are hundreds more inside, possibly thousands. That's not including any beast they have tamed or controlled like the canine golem. The hivetung are giant compared to me but are physically smaller and weaker than most creatures in that world. It's their cohesiveness that makes them a force to be reckoned with. How come they don't rule the land like humans do here?

"Whisper," I say. "The hivetung seem very organized and powerful. How come they don't rule your world?"

Whisper snorts. "They might be strong inside their hive but outside it they are just prey. Tasty prey." He licks his lips, barring his sharp teeth. I stare at him in surprise along with Sarah, whom I had shifted so she could participate in our conversation.

"Hivetung are vegetarians," Whisper continues. "They eat the foliage around their hive and seldom travel far from it. The only time they do is to make a new colony or to trap other species to serve them. They are a race of cowards who snare the young when no one is vigilant."

"Have they taken any of your young?" I ask.

Whisper lets out a feral growl. "Yes, many times."

"What did you do?" Sarah asks, scratching behind his ears in an attempt to calm him. It doesn't work.

"Against the will of my Alpha I gathered several clan members who were loyal to me who wanted to fight. We attacked at dawn, quickly slaughtering all those outside, feeding on their remains as their brethren watched from inside their hive, cowering in fear." His tail twitches back and forth wildly at the memory. "Arrogant from our effortless success we stormed the hive entrance itself. We were slaughtered. The hive entrance, while large for you humans, was narrow and cramped for others larger than the hivetung. They shot sharpened bones into us, killing many. Of the dozen I brought with me only three survived along with myself."

Whisper's eyes harden in anger. "They took the bones of our fallen, adding to their hive."

"That's terrible," Sarah says, giving him a comforting hug. I agree with her but it also gives me an idea.

"Whisper, what are the chances that the hive I saw today is the same one you attacked?" I ask.

Whisper forgets his anger in Sarah's crushing embrace. "Fairly high. Hivetung colonies are few and far apart. When their queens are ready to expand to a new colony they fly far away before burrowing underground."

"They fly?" I ask, shocked.

Whisper nods. "Only the fertile queens that are ready to lay. The queens find a suitable spot and tunnel deep underground until they mature, then the hive begins to form." Whisper gives a savage smile. "Unless they are found and eaten before their defenses become too strong. Which is the fate of most."

"The hive I saw was immense almost as tall as a skyscraper. Does that mean it's old?" I ask.

"Yes, very. The bigger the mound, the older the colony, and the more hivetung inside. The really old ones have vast chambers in the surface structure and endless tunnels in the ground below. The one you saw must be dozens of generations old and is almost certainly the same one I attacked."

"Would your clan help us?" I ask. Sarah's eyes widen, hope blossoming in her features.

Whisper shakes his head sadly. "The Alpha was enraged that I ignored his orders. I envisioned glory, defeating the hivetung and rescuing our young. Perhaps even becoming alpha myself. The Alpha knew better. Such a hivetung hive would have formidable defense protecting the structure and a frontal assault was madness. I wanted to be a hero, instead I only proved that I was a fool.

"The Alpha banished me from the clan to forever live as an outcast." The pain in Whisper's voice is like a blade in my heart. I never knew he had such a past. I feel like an ass for not knowing.

"Oh, Whisper!" Sarah cries, crushing him once more to her chest.

"Whisper, you are now and forever part of my clan," I say. It sounds a bit lame but has the desired effect, and I meant every word.

Whisper gives me a ferret grin, tears brimming around those very blue eyes. "I know, Shifter. And I'll forever be at your side. I still hate being so small here." We all laugh.

Days pass as Sarah returned to her job with little hope of ever stopping vision. Brick, shadow, Whisper and I ponder the problem of how to stop Solarkar. As long as his stronghold remains so will vision. Each day we visit the site, looking for some weakness to exploit. We find nothing. The sigil stones imbedded on the hive walls and floor prevent any shifting and the well-guarded entrance along with the hivetung around the perimeter protect it from outside approach.

On the sixth day I am in a depressed stupor, cursing my own uselessness while slumped in the chair next to the bed. I'm not the only one who isn't being productive. Whisper naps on the bed, confident that I will figure everything out. His absolute confidence in me darkens my mood further. My shadow is off doing things which I'd rather stay ignorant of and Brick watches _Star Trek: the Wrath of Khan on TV_. The screen is a blank to my eyes, its emissions fully in the human world which my sight can't penetrate for some reason, but I can hear it just fine. Apparently, Kirk and Khan battle in space, fighting to a draw as both starships exchange fire in a nebula.

"He followed me this far," Kirk says. "He'll be back, but from where?"

Spock's monotone voice reaches my ears. "He's intelligent but not experienced. His pattern indicates two dimensional thinking."

Lighting arcs through my perviously dim neurons as Spock's meaning comes clear. "That's it!" I cry, leaping to my feet, startling both Whisper and Brick.

"Brick, one of these days I swear I'm getting you cable," I say, moving to the phone. Drawing Sarah's business card from my pocket where it had been partially crushed, I dial the listed number. Whisper and Brick just stare at me in confusion.

"Clifford," Sarah answers in a distracted voice.

"Sarah, its Jerry," I say, barely able to suppress the excitement I feel. "I know how to stop Solarkar. Bring a subway map with the overhead streets on it to my motel room along with some flashlights. We are going to take Spock's advice."

### Chapter 11 – The Plan

It's dark, completely and utterly devoid of any light. Like a blind man I clutch at Sarah's arm as we make our slow way down the tunnel illuminated by her flashlight. Yet I can see no light. I see nothing and keep expecting to tumble over with each step.

"Anything yet?" Sarah asks from my left.

"No," I say. She gives me a disapproving grunt as we continue on.

"There's bound to be something near here. We must stay vigilant," Whisper says from my satchel.

Step after step I make my blind way forward, until I once again stumble on an unseen obstacle. Giving a quick tug on my arm Sarah stabilizes me. We both curse in unison.

"Is this really necessary?" She asks.

"Yes. I can see movement easily in the other world but an intersecting tunnel down here might have nothing in it so I could miss it. I must focus all of my sight to that world to find what we are looking for. Right now I see nothing but darkness," I reply.

"I need more coffee to deal with this shit," Sarah mutters and I bite back a retort. We had been down here for several hours already and both of us are irritated from the damp and the dark. The search would have been much faster if my shadow had wanted to help. Being who and what he is he just laughed at the suggestion. He was probably amused at the thought of me stumbling around in the dark.

Another hour passes by with nothing to show for it and I am just about ready to quit when it happens. It's only a brief glance but something besides darkness and compact soil catches my eye. A flash too quick to be properly seen, but after so long in the dark it was like a bright ray of sunlight.

"Stop!" I call out, my pulse racing.

Sarah nearly falls at the suddenness of my command and this time I steady her.

"What?" She snarles. Perhaps she thinks I need a bathroom break again.

"I saw something a few steps back," I say.

"Where?" Sarah asks.

"A few steps back," I say again, this time in a heated tone trying in vain to fight my own irritation. "Let's just turn around and walk slowly."

"That's all we've been doing," Sarah replies, her voice low and dangerous. I hope this isn't another false alarm. We take three steps back, then two to the right and then five to the left. It feels like we're doing a really slow, pathetic dance when I see it again.

"Here," I say, my blood thrumming in my head.

Before me is a tall vast tunnel with a greenish luminescent moss covering the entire ceiling that has a steady glow emanating from it that illuminates the area like night vision. Unlike the busy main floor of the hive, here there's just a single hivetung moving away from my position with long, unhurried strides. More important than the lack of guards is the lack of sigil stones! I smile a wicked smile that would do my shadow proud.

"Got them," I declare.

"Really?" Sarah asks, disbelief evident in her tone. I can't blame her, she can't see what I do.

"Yes, really. The tunnel under the hive intersects here at chest height," I say, looking down with a feeling of nausea as I remember the hivetung that was bisected by the floor. The subway canal and the hivetung tunnels don't perfectly overlap so half of my body is hidden beneath the soil. I would have to shift sediment out of the way before I could crossover but I could do it.

"Shadow," I say. "Shift here and scout around. Don't do anything suspicious or let yourself be seen."

"Oh yes, great master, I obey immediately," my shadow says, the sarcasm tainting every word. Contrary to what he said he makes no move to comply.

I sigh. "Please," I add painfully but it's still no good. Although I can't see him at the moment I can feel that he hasn't moved.

"Just think about all the lovely chaos that will result when we cross over. Plenty of death and destruction I'm sure." When courtesy fails offer promises of violence and mayhem. I can actually feel my shadow smile and hear his dark chuckle. Then, without a word, I feel him shift and see a sudden darkness spread on the ground near me in the other world like pooling black blood. Rippling, the pool stretches upward on the tunnel wall becoming an indistinct source-less silhouette filled with menace. He zooms off with terrifying speed down the tunnel. Long minutes pass and I do my best to ignore Sarah's excessively loud exhalations as we wait. Finally, just as I am about to suggest she breathe through her nose, which surely would have aggravated her even further, my shadow returns crossing back to my world wordlessly. I follow with my vision, finally seeing the world immediately around me.

"What did you see?" I ask, my heart thudding.

"Many wonders," my shadow says, hidden from view once more by the surrounding darkness.

"Something more specific would be nice," I growl, my patience thinning even further.

"How many foes are there?" Asks Whisper.

"Far too many for you to handle alone, rat," my shadow says, adding emphasis to the last word.

"I doubt that," Whisper hisses in retort.

"Did you find vision's source?" I ask. Sarah's light suddenly swivels in my direction, sending a bright flash of pain across my eyes.

"What's going on?" She demands more than asks, able only to hear my side of the conversation. Annoyed I gently push the light out of my eyes and down to the ground.

"Just give me a moment," I say.

"I found it," my shadow says. "It is oh-so-lovely, cries of pain and born in blood. What pleasantly wicked beings these hivetung are."

"What is it!" I demand, stomping my foot angrily.

"I don't want to ruin the surprise," my shadow replies, looking far too pleased with himself. Fucking shadow. My obvious irritation gives him far more enjoyment than his disclosure would so I doubt he will ever tell me. I'll have to see for myself.

"Did you see any of my kind in there?" Whisper asks.

"Oh, yes," my shadow says. "They make good use of your kind in there. Use a rat for a rat's job."

Whisper snarls. Whether at my shadow or at the prospect of his imprisoned kindred I'm not sure, perhaps both. I direct my attention back to Sarah. Although I can't see her in the dark, I can tell from a millions years' worth of male evolution and survival instinct that she, using the technical phrase, is about to blow a gasket if I don't immediately answer her.

"We found a way in, but we will need an army..."

****

"I don't know if this will work," Whisper says, uncharacteristically nervous. I've never seen anything but staunch courage from my friend, but given the circumstances I don't blame him. This is going to be hard for him. I wish we could travel in the human world but, as Whisper pointed out, he couldn't see across realities like I can. It's unlikely that I could find his people by myself.

After over an hour of bounding through the jungle, the landscape dramatically changes. One moment I am surrounded by a thick jungle canopy with stifling humid air pressing down on me from all sides, the next the vegetation is gone, replaced by towering, transparent purple crystals glittering like immense gemstones in the light. Each is taller than a house, jutting crudely from the earth below like the internal pressures of this world pushed them to the surface. Tall, green grasses fill the spaces between each crystal monolith like an ocean of bright green swaying in the wind. It's breathtaking. Even Sarah, who had spent most of the trip with her face buried in the back of my coat, gives an audible gasp.

Curious, I send my vision to my own world to see what mirror is there for this place. In my world there are drab, dirty buildings at least fifty years old, covered in graffiti and twisting cracked streets with litter in the gutters. This is the first time that I feel the ugliness to be in my own world. How could two such places coexist right on top of each other? I actually feel offended that my world might taint such perfection. It rocks the foundation of all I knew. After seeing such horrors my entire life, with the exception of Whisper and Brick, I had come to believe that only evil existed in the other worlds. Places of endless dark, with only a few minor bright spots standing vigilant. Now I know it's beyond such petty descriptions and ideas. After all, the untamed wilderness in my own world can be harsh and unforgiving, and a casual glance at a few spots could convince anyone that only pain exists there. Here, in another world, hidden from human eyes, I have found a definition of natural beauty that shames anything I previously knew. A tear of joy runs down my cheek and for the first time in my life I want to see more. I want to know more of these worlds that only I can visit. I want to see! I smile. My smile changes abruptly as three large, furry shapes raise themselves from the tall grasses like immense gophers heading right for us in long leaps and bounds. Slowing, Whisper comes to a halt, his body rigid and tense, ready to react in an instant.

"Offer no offense," Whisper advises us as the large shapes draw near with alarming speed.

I had expected all of them to be white like Whisper but their coloring and patterns are as different from Whisper as from one another. The largest of the three and the one in the lead has light brown fur the shade of a coconut skin with a white patch over the left eye. Although I'm no expert on ferret facial expressions, my years of experience suggests that this one has one of utter loathing and contempt. Whisper had this same look after my shadow had been taunting him for a few hours. The right-most ferret is a dark chocolate and noticeably smaller and slimmer than the other two, probably female. She moves with the grace of a dancer instead of the powerful lopping gate that Whisper uses. The far left ferret has a strange mix of white and orange that I have seen in cats. While not as large as the lead ferret, this one still has plenty of rippling muscle beneath his fur and moves with surety. Both of these, like the lead ferret, do not wear welcoming expressions for us.

They never slow their pace as they close in and I feel a pit of fear in my stomach, threatening to tear itself out of my body. In a single bound done in unison all three charging shapes stop right before us, arresting all their forward momentum in an instant. The ground shakes at the impact and a gust of air buffets us along with three angry hisses.

"Clan-less one," white eye says in a long hiss. "You dare to sully our home with your presence!" He bares his teeth to emphasize the point, not that it's needed. The other two remain silent, content to alternate between hissing and growling. Whisper doesn't back down. He stands tall and proud like a gladiator before an angry crowd. I notice smugly that he is bigger than white eye.

"I am no longer clan-less and have earned a new name, Hintorunner," Whisper says. Whisper told me that upon maturity each clan member chooses their own name, in regards to their function in the clan. Scouts are 'runners', those that protect the village are 'guards' and females that want to focus on birthing litters are 'mothers', and so on. Whisper said once he was exiled he lost his name, the greatest shame possible for his people. Curious I asked him what his name had been. He had replied rather stiffly that the owner of that name was no more and shouldn't be spoken of.

The three large ferrets look dumbfounded at Whisper's proclamation. This is something that had obviously never occurred before. "You have a new name and clan?" Stammers Hintorunner, looking uncertain.

"I am called Whisper of clan Shifter!" Whisper declares, his voice booming loudly across the plain and my heart swells with pride. I truly have a wonderful friend. "My Alpha is Jerry Price, who is here to converse with the Alpha of the Bartendor clan. We are here to discuss an alliance against the Hivetung and the recovery of any younglings captured by them." As he speaks Whisper gestures over his shoulder to me. I feel my face redden to a shade significantly darker than my hair. Compared to the large animals facing us with their sharp teeth and deadly claws I am rather pathetic. Hintorunner notices it also. He laughs a full-blown, mocking gust of merriment at us.

"How appropriate, you being submissive to a flea on your back!" Hintorunner exclaims. "I'm sure this pathetic being was the only one that would..." Whisper doesn't let him finish. Moving with explosive force that nearly tumbles me and Sarah from his back, Whisper swats Hintorunner down with one heavy strike from his paw across the face. The blow echoes across the plain like a sudden thunderclap and Hintorunner hits the earth with shocking force. Before he could even raise his head in protest Whisper is on him, pinning him in place with the same paw that sent him sprawling. He holds Hintorunner's head firmly into the ground effortlessly. Hintorunner thrashes like a pinned snake showering the area with torn chucks of earth, but he can't free himself from Whisper's iron grip. The other two ferrets take a single step forward, probably to intervene, but a single glance from Whisper is enough to make them reconsider the action.

"Oh, what fun!" My shadow declares dangerously. "The white rat finally did something useful but he still didn't get it right. I'll have to show him how it's done." My shadow, hidden until now in the depths of the tall grass around us, finally makes his presence known. Like oil suddenly bleeding from the ground my shadow spreads out, coating the ground around him in his darkness. At first he oozes out like a large, black pond. With a speed that would have shattered the sound barrier if he weresn't insubstantial, my shadow reaches out to the other two ferrets, wrapping their front legs in his nothingness. What can only be described as absolute terror overwhelms the ferrets as they let out joint cries, tugging in vain to free themselves.

"Stop!" I yell, forcing every bit of command and authority I could into that single word. I half expect my shadow to ignore me and consume them right then and there but the darkness hesitates as if receiving conflicting instructions. My shadow struggles against me. His dark will against the force of my command. Its close but I compel him back and like a slowly receding tide he collapses into the grass, hidden except for his angry muttering.

Where he had expanded to is ruined. The grass he had coated is no more and the ground itself looks dead, almost tainted, like it had been despoiled by thousands of sacrifices to gods better left un-named. The two ferrets fare better from the assault than the ground but my shadow had still left his mark. Their legs, once covered in healthy fur, are stripped raw with large blisters covering every inch of exposed skin. Like burn victims, clear viscous liquid oozes from their sores, giving their raw skin a wet, sticky look. No doubt if I hadn't interrupted my shadow both of these ferrets would have been dissolved into his essence, like salt into water.

Their will broke either from Whisper's glare or my shadow's attack but once freed all three cower before us, completely submissive. Not the worst first impression I've had. "Take us to your Alpha," I say in my most commanding tone. All three ferrets meekly rise, never meeting my eyes, turning back to the direction they came from. The two my shadow attacked have a slight limp and let out small squeaks of pain at each step. We followed, Sarah and me still riding Whisper with my shadow trailing behind.

"That actually went very well," Whisper says, his voice low for only us to hear.

"Well?" Sarah says, part terrified and part bemused.

"My people respect power and abilities above all else. In this world those without power die and shadow's demonstration was beyond anything they have ever experienced," Whisper replies, matching the pace of the ferrets ahead of us. He leaves enough distance from them for our private conversation.

"And yet I get no credit for it," my shadow says gloomily from behind us. Turning my head I catch a brief glance of darkness amidst the tall grass before it moves on.

"I'll give you credit for it," I concede with difficulty. "But killing them would have provoked the others. We want their help not their destruction."

Sarah sighs. "I wish I had my gun and a jumbo coffee."

"Which one would you pick if you could only have one?" I ask, grinning.

"Coffee," Sarah says decisively. "Life without coffee is not worth living, so why would you need a gun?"

Why indeed.

Whisper's home is just as marvelous as the plain preceding it. His former clan had made their home at the center of a cluster of exceptionally large, translucent crystals. The sun sets behind the crystal mound, bathing us in a rich, purple light, painting the world in brilliant shades before us. The formation is nearly a mountain with lopsided crystals scattered throughout. Some end in jagged tips while others are relatively flat and broad. In the center is a wide opening forming an inverted V which is wide enough for several of Whisper's kind to walk abreast. A constant flow of traffic moves in and out of the entrance, some dragging in kills and others racing out on unknown errands. While Whisper's home lacks the efficiency of the hivetung colony there is still a strong feeling of united purpose. The air thrums with their will to survive. Whisper tenses beneath me as we draw near the entrance. He has been away for a long time.

"Do you miss your home?" I ask, dreading what I would say next, but knowing I had to for the sake of my best friend.

"Yes," Whisper says sadly. "My heart longs to be here in my ancestral home."

"After we rescue your young, your elders should welcome you back. You could go home," I try and fail to keep my voice steady. In many ways Whisper is the only home I have.

"No," Whisper saiys firmly. "I shall miss my home, but I have grown beyond it. I have seen worlds none of my kind could even imagine let alone thrive in. Our journey together, Shifter, has only just begun. I belong at your side now and forever. Though I still hate being so small in your world." Tears blur my vision and I furiously blink them away. This isn't the time or place for such things.

"Thank you," I say simply, though those two simple worlds hardly do justice to what I feel inside.

The interior of Whisper's birth home is even more marvelous than the plain beyond. Everything is awash in purple light, courtesy of the overhead crystals that nearly enclose the entire area. So focused am I on the surroundings I don't notice the hundreds of eyes staring at us until Sarah gives me a tight squeeze, redirecting my attention to more immediate issues. Eyes of all colors look at us from ferrets of equally colorful fur patterns. Most of the looks are not of friendship and warmth. Several appear to be on the verge of springing forth at any second, claws slashing the air. Hintorunner and his companions regain much of their earlier confidence now that they are in their place of power, but the limps of his companions are a welcome a reminder that we are dangerous. Whisper ignores the hissing and, in some cases, rather rude remarks thrown at us from all sides. He strides casually and confidently. Sarah and I do our best to mirror his posture, sitting up straight and looking around like we are utterly bored.

"I think I now know how a gazelle feels when confronted by a pride of lions," Sarah mutters. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

The walk to the center of the ferret den seems to take forever. The strain of watching the large ferrets closing in on all sides leaves an itch in my back where I keep expecting the dagger to be plunged. The urge to shift us away from here, away from all the angry eyes is almost overpowering. Doubt seeps into my mind and I wonder if I have seriously misjudged the situation. Will my plan even work? Or am I going to get us all killed? Moving my gaze from this world to my own I see with disquiet that my plan, while still functional, would likely result in a great deal of embarrassment. I sighe. Of course it had to work out this way. I really hate my luck. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time I made a complete ass out of myself.

Suddenly a space clears around us as three ferrets step forward. They have to be the Alphas Whisper had described to me, for they wear crudely-woven, dried bone fragments as a type of armor over their hides. The middle ferret is large even for their kind, with rippling muscle and a brown and white spotted fur pattern. His teeth are bared and thin trickle of drool escapes from his lower lip. The only time I have seen such hate and loathing from another intelligent being was the look my mother reserved just for me.

The other two are more composed than their companion but I can still see how they tense up as we come into view. The left one is black as night with cool green eyes and a half gnawed-off ear. I can see a deep intelligence in the look he gives us; it's calculating, the kind of look you get from a professional gunslinger. The right one is pure white, just like Whisper, with eyes eerily similar to his also. The look this ferret has is not of loathing or anger or even curiosity, it's a look of despair and suppressed pain. _A relative of Whisper?_ I long to ask him but that will have to wait, we have more pressing matters to discuss before we become chew toys. Not allowing them the chance to insult us like Hintorunner and his group, Whisper immediately speaks up, his purring voice reverberating all around the vast chamber.

"I have come before you my former clan, once more. I am no longer the clan-less outcast. I am now Whisper of clan Shifter and ask for the aid of the Bartendor clan for revenge against the hivetung and the retrieval of any stolen young!" Whisper adds just the right amount of confidence in his tone and emphasizes the rescue aspect of our mission.

A stunned silence fills the chamber and, for the first time, the angry hissing ceases as all eyes turn from us to their Alphas.

"We do not recognize you or your new clan," says the middle ferret with the brown and white spots. "I, Machadohunter, Alpha of the Bartendor clan who cast you out nameless one, find your presence INTOLERABLE!" The angry muttering that had been silenced by Whisper returns tenfold and those nearest start pawing the ground as if eager to pounce. This reaction was not anticipated. It's my turn now. Whisper had schooled me well on what to do next. Sighing, I leap off Whisper, landing awkwardly near him. I was really hoping to avoid this part. Rising up to my full height, which feels woefully inadequate given those surrounding me, I raise my voice for all to hear.

"Do those of the Bartendor clan fear the Hivetung so? I was told that the Hivetung routinely steal your young. I thought your mighty clan would like a chance to rectify this." I echo as all heads turn toward me. Praying they don't confuse me for a bite size treat I go on. "I have a way inside the Hivetung colony, but three against so many is poor odds, even with the element of surprise. Whisper told me of his former clan's glory and bravery equal to none in all the worlds combined. Yet here I find only nursing whelps, afraid to leave the shadow of their crystal home. I am Jerry Price, Alpha of clan Shifter and I call you Machadohunter a coward more worthy of breeding with moles than hunting in the night!" The uproar is thunderous as Machadohunter fixes his murderous eyes on me. Perhaps I shouldn't have used my shadow's inspired insult.

"You insignificant insect dare insult me!" Machadohunter booms so loudly that I am afraid the purple crystal surrounding us will shatter.

"I do," I yell, which pales next to his previous decibel level. "I challenge you, Machadohunter, to single combat of two Alphas!" This time it's an explosion of laughter far louder than all the previous yelling combined. Yeah, yeah, laugh at the little human. Machadohunter has joined all the others at their sudden merriment, going so far as spring forth tears of unrestrained mirth and pounding his huge paw repeatedly on the soft earth. I begin to feel a bit insulted. I can be dangerous...kinda.

"Hiding behind your tears, Machadohunter? I can let you nurse from your bitch mother if you like before I defeat you," I say, adding as much contempt as I could while ignoring the embarrassment burning in my face. That sobers him up.

"I accept your challenge, noisy insect. I will crush your head into the ground in an instant," Machadohunter declares as a space clears around us. Whisper and Sarah also retreat, giving us plenty of room. Sarah spares me an, 'I hope you know what you are doing look.' Whisper, for his part, is completely unconcerned, his faith in me more solid than the surrounding crystal.

They stand together watching me, Sarah in plain blue sweat pants and a brown leather jacket looking small next to the towering shape that is Whisper. Sarah didn't bring her gun and her strange outfit was necessary since many materials don't survive shifting very well. I am similarly dressed with my black trench coat over black sweatpants and plain black t-shirt. I feel like a ninja except for the pink moccasins I wear. It was the only color I could find in my size. I look ridiculous facing off with the giant Machadohunter despite the sword I took from the hivetung slung over my back.

"As you can see there is somewhat of a disadvantage between us here. If you like you can have your lesser Alpha's help you, Machadohunter," I say, nodding to the black ferret. Once again an explosion of mirth comes forth but at least this time it isn't entirely directed at me.

"A confident bug, aren't you?" Machadohunter asks. "I have no need of help except to pick your remains from my teeth!" A roar of applause follows his declaration.

"Well, I don't want to be the bringer of tooth decay and gingivitis. So have your Alphas join us here in the center so they can see and tell all," I say, again to the mirth of all.

"They will join us. This will be quick and I don't anyone to miss the details," Machadohunter says as the black and white ferrets step forth. "Ready to die?"

"Not quite," I reply, sending my gaze forth into the other worlds. "I find this spot not to my liking could we move over there," I say pointing to a spot off in the distance.

"No, we end this now, bug!" Machadohunter says and I sigh. It was worth a shot.

"Very well, but I will make your defeat all the worse for the annoyance this will cause me," I say and ready myself.

"Begin!" Machadohunter yells, lunging with the speed of a bullet train directly at me.

He is fast but my shifting is faster. Inspired by Solarkar and our first encounter I throw my arms wide and shift. I don't shift just myself but the area in my immediate vicinity including Machadohunter and his two fellow ferrets. It's instantaneous. One moment I am surrounded by snarling ferret's the next I am back in my normal world. We appear in the middle of a basketball court during a half-time show. I snatch the leaping ferret of the air by the scruff of his neck. From the look of it I would guess that it's a high school basketball game as team members on both sides rest on the bench, watching the cheerleaders a short distance from me perform rather amazing leg kicks, completely unaware that something rather unusual had just appeared behind them.

The crowd does not fail to notice. Rising to their feet they point at the sudden appearance of a young man and three large ferrets. A shocked mutter ripples through the crowd. Machadohunter, now much smaller, squeaks in terror and begins squirming in my grasp.

"What have you done to me?" Machadohunter cries out. I can see the other two, their eyes wide with fear, getting ready flee.

"Don't run. If you do I can't return you home," I say and notice that I had shifted a patch of ground along with me. In a circle around me is grass and stone... in the middle of the basketball court. Yeah they might have trouble explaining this one away. Oh well, not my problem. The white and black ferret freeze, too terrified to do anything other than shiver in fear.

"Do you yield, Machadohunter?" I ask, lacing my voice with venom. The direct threat to his honor and the threat of being defeated by me is enough to send a surge of courage through him.

"Never! You cheated."

"I did no such thing other than use my natural abilities just as you intended to, but enough of this. Let's begin!" Holding Machadohunter firmly I lift him high in the air and shake him like a mother does her cub. After a few seconds he breaks down into a snarling rage at being treated like an ill-tempered pup. The crowd begins raging as well, no doubt wondering what I am doing committing animal abuse in the middle of a basketball game. They are probably ignoring the fact I had just appeared out of nowhere. All eyes are on me once again but this time they are human. I can see flashes out of the corner of my eyes as pictures, and no doubt video, are being taken.

Even more embarrassed than I had been earlier with the ferrets I address the still defiant Machadohunter. "Do you yield?" A snarl is his only response. _So be it._

I grab his tail with my free hand and spin him in great, fast arcs, my arms mimicking a propeller blade. Machadohunter's cries of pain and humiliation are drowned out by the outrage of the crowd. I hope he will yield before a PETA member decides to tackle me. I can imagine what I would tell them. 'No it was not animal abuse. I challenged the ferret to a dominance fight so he would help me kill some really tall naked men...' _Any wonder people think I'm crazy?_

Finally, as several large and alarmingly beefy audience members make their way to me, I hear the sweetest sound ever. "I yield!"

"You heard him," I say, directing my comment to the two cowering ferrets trying to hide in the grass. They nod and it's with some relief that I return us back to Whisper's world. The upset cries of the angry crowd recede as the environment before me. Machadohunter, no longer small, rises unsteadily to his four feet, swaying from side to side. Suddenly, his body gives a funny lurch and he vomits a long stream of bile. I ignore the rank smell now lingering the air.

"Victory!" Cries Whisper for all to hear, having every confidence that my plan would work. Machadohunter, still busy with the task of emptying his stomach, doesn't respond but manages to give us a nasty look before his unsteady digestive system demands his attention once more. The black ferret with the gnawed off ear along with the pure white ferret step forward around the sick Machadohunter and actually bow to me.

"Jerry Price, Alpha of clan Shifter, I Lasadamother second Alpha of the Bartendor clan recognizes both your abilities in combat and your clan as a formidable force. I will hear your plan for the demise of the hivetung and the recovery of our young."

Sarah gives me a wide smile, her bleach blonde hair obscuring most of her eyes but I can still see hope blossoming there. Giving my own smile to Lasadamother I tell them my plan.

### Chapter 12 – Into The Hive

"Ouch! Watch the tail!" Comes a disgruntled voice from the large duffel bag on my left arm.

"Quit complaining already, Hintorunner. You didn't have to come, " comes the soft but equally annoyed voice of Lasadamother from other large duffel bag on my right arm.

"Get your paw out of my face!" Says yet another voice from the left bag followed by some movement and hissing. While this is the most efficient method to transport an army of ferrets to the shifting point, it has not been a pleasant experience thus far.

"Be quiet, all of you! Prove to me that the proud warriors of the Bartendor clan are more than just whining whelps!" Whisper says from the comfort of my shoulder.

I grit my teeth as Whisper's comment. Instead of encouraging silence it sends the occupants of both duffel bags and the ones in my backpack into a chitterling rage that threatens to crack open my skull. Sarah in the lead, unburdened by ferrets, holds a flashlight in one hand and an alarmingly large coffee mug in the other. The mug is so big that it would serve as a makeshift club if things get desperate. Sarah stops for a second, turning back to me with a curious look.

"I have a feeling I'm glad I can't understand what is going on. All I hear is a bunch of angry squeaks and hisses," Sarah says, taking a long pull from her coffee. We came directly here after our meeting with the Bartendor clan. The only stop was to shift over and finish our journey in the human world. Sarah's car had been strategically parked with all the necessary supplies inside, including her coffee cup. I enjoyed the ride over. Nothing compares to riding in a car with thirty-something ferrets, all fighting for a chance to stick their heads out the windows. Now, I'm not having so much fun.

"You could put down that coffee and carry a bag. They probably weigh the same," I reply sourly. Arms sore, I adjust my grip on the bags, jostling the ferrets and renewing their complaining.

"I can't do that. Machadohunter said he wouldn't stand for anything less than the Alpha carrying them into battle." She said the word alpha with such scorn that it would be approved by feminists everywhere. "Besides, it would take more than an army of ferrets or a colony of hivetung to separate me from my coffee."

Turning her back to me Sarah continues down the subway tunnel. Frustration building I resolve to take out my fury on any hivetung I see. Perhaps I will try to shift just their heads. My mood as black as the air around me, I continue after Sarah, doing my best to ignore the constant complaining erupting all around me.

We arrive at the shifting point before I break down and commit more acts of animal abuse. Setting the bags down I let out the warriors of the Bartendor clan. Ferrets erupt from of the bags. If I thought freedom from their confinement would give me a brief rest then I was gravely mistaken. Like Whisper they are immensely curious about this new world, but they have none of his experience. I have to save more than one from falling on the subway tracks a short distance off.

"Whisper," I say, exasperated after stopping the fifth ferret from taking the dive to investigate the rails more closely. With a chortle he leaps nimbly from my shoulder and along with Machadohunter and Lasadamother begins herding the rest up. Whisper's standing is still in question among his people. He is still an outcast but recognized as an alpha in my tribe and owed the respect of that position. Perhaps that will change after all of this. For now it's enough.

"Stop wandering or I'll bit your tail off!" Whisper growls to a cream colored ferret who was attempting to investigate a brightly colored cheeseburger wrapper a short distance away.

"Stay put, all of you. It might take me a minute to find the shifting point. Sarah, if you would be so kind," I say. She gives me an annoyed huff, recalling all too well our slow walk last time. Closing my eyes I send forth my sight into Whisper's world and the blackness of compacted soil greets my eyes. Grabbing my arm Sarah leads me around like a blind beggar until a minute later when the spot is found.

"Here," I say, stopping in my tracks. "Shadow cross over and make sure the coast is clear in both directions. We will need some time to shift."

"You are taking far too many liberties by telling me what to do," my shadow says. "But since plenty of death and violence will occur I'll cooperate this time. Besides, I get to see these rats do something useful." The ferrets let out frightened squeaks except for Whisper who doesn't respond to his insult. A dark pool spreads out on the ground in Whisper's world, stretching up the tunnel wall to become a source-less silhouette. Giving me a malicious grin he moves down the left side of the tunnel, virtually undetectable in the low light. Returning a minute later he wordlessly proceeds down the right end. He is gone much longer this time. Almost five minutes pass before my shadow returns. He doesn't bother crossing back to our world, instead he talks to me across realities.

"On the left there is a simple storage area holding fungus and a small pond of stagnant water. There are two hivetung playing with mold. The tunnel ends there. Vision is to your right far down the tunnel along with all the goodies that the hivetung have collected. The area is vast with plenty of room to play." He gives me a wicked smile that makes me glad he's on my side or at the very least not on Solarkar's.

"Stay put for a bit while I do this," I say and then add with some difficulty, "Thanks."

My shadow actually seems repulsed by the notion of being thanked. "The only reason I am helping is because I want to see a lot of blood, nothing more." I nod, not wanting to imply that my shadow ever do something to help me. Heaven forbid.

"Here's the plan. Two hivetung are down the left tunnel. It dead ends there we need to take them out. Down the right is our goal. The right tunnel goes into the hive ending in a large central chamber. I have no clue what we will find there," I say, turning toward Machadohunter. "Machadohunter, as we agreed you will lead your clan and I will be in charge of mine. We will regroup here and I'll shift us once we recover your young and destroy vision. Any questions?"

"How do we know you won't accidently shift us into the wall?" Machadohunter asks.

"It doesn't work like that," I say, finally having the answer myself. A brief conference with Sarah after I defeated Machadohunter clarified several mysteries for me. When I had shifted the three ferrets and myself I had taken some ground with me. I already knew that. What I didn't know was that in Whisper's world a circular section of basketball flooring had appeared. When I shift I don't just move what I want through reality. I exchange it with what is already there. This came as an enormous relief. I've been worried about the possibility of my shifting going wrong ever since the hivetung got fused into my floor. I guess that the sigil stones interrupted the process of shifting causing a strange blending of realities. I explained all of this to Machadohunter and the rest. I did leave out the fact that since they get bigger once shifted I wasn't sure that this principle still held true. I already plan on shifting sediment out of the away so we can launch our operation all at once in either case.

"I need to make room by shifting away dirt. I'll have to bring it here since all the other worlds I see right now are underground. Whisper move the Bartendor clan a safe distance away," I say.

"Yes, Shifter," says Whisper, followed immediately by a concordance of voices about everything from complaints to attempts to wander off and investigate once more. I leave it to Whisper.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Sarah asks, remaining by my side.

"This is the easy part. The trouble is once I start we have to hurry. If the hivetung discover the strange appearance of a crater in the middle of their tunnel our surprise is ruined," I say.

"Don't worry," says my shadow. "The last thing I want is for this lovely conflict to end because of an ill-timed encounter. I'll keep the area free of interlopers." "Ok, kill any hivetung that wanders near," I say, and although my vision stays in the other world I could feel Sarah confusion.

"Just talking with my shadow," I say.

"Of course. I don't know what I was thinking," she says dryly. "Should I move or stay here?"

"Hang on to my arm and keep me steady," I reply. Then, calling out to the general darkness around me I add, "Whisper are you ready?"

"We are prepared, Shifter," comes Whisper's purring reply.

"Let's do it," I say.

It takes longer than I thought, nearly twenty minutes worth of shifting, in the process of which I completely blocked the nearby tracks. Giving me a dark look Sarah whips out her cell phone, shutting down the rails as I give a helpless shrug and continue.

Two hivetung do stumble across the suspiciously large hole that magically appeared in their tunnel. They look down into the pit I had made which is deeper than they are tall. Before they can act or discuss the possibility of a meteorite magically hitting underground my shadow rises up behind them. Appearing as a black silhouette larger than both of them he has a lunatic grin on his dark features that sends a shiver down my spine. They never even see him, so focused on the large ass hole in front of them. In a single instant they are smothered in the blackest of nights. They don't scream and wail in terror, or perhaps they do but the sound couldn't escape my shadow's embrace. My shadow bulges and distorts at first as the Hivetung struggle but that rapidly changes to a few feeble movements, then to nothing. My shadow shrinks back down to his normal size with a 'cat got the canary' look on his face. I continue with my job. Finally it is done. The pit is large enough to hold everyone; it's five times larger than an Olympic pool.

"It's done," I say.

"About time," comes Sarah's retort. "Look at all this fucking dirt. How will I explain it?" Sending my sight back to the human world I see that she is quite right. The tunnel is entirely blocked by soil.

I give her a shrug. "Say the tunnel collapsed."

"It's a god damn concrete tunnel," Sarah says, stomping her foot down in anger and waving her immense coffee mug. To my surprise the lid comes off and it is completely empty. _Wow, did she drink all of it?_ I briefly wonder if she will collapse from a caffeine overdose. "When they clean it up they will see that the tunnel isn't broken."

Again I shrug. "It doesn't matter. People will always invent excuses to explain the unexplainable. It happens to me all the time. If anyone mentions the intact tunnel ask them where it all came from. That will shut them up. I will start shifting over the Bartendor clan. This will take some time if you want to stretch your legs for a minute." Sarah hasn't left my side since I started. I guess that she will welcome the opportunity to relieve herself.

"Good," Sarah says. "I got to piss like a race horse." With that she wanders out of sight. So much for my attempt to give her modesty.

"Whisper, let's begin," I call out to the relative darkness around me. "Bring me groups of four and I'll shift them." Then to everyone I say, "Once I shift you, clear the way for the others. Don't do anything until we all crossover."

"Yes, Shifter," says Whisper.

"Alpha of clan Shifter, I Machadohunter, will go forth first and secure the area. Then I shall organize my clan for the battle ahead."

The statement is very political so I respond in kind. "Agreed, Alpha of the Bartendor clan. Can you send two warriors down the left tunnel and eliminate the hivetung toiling there?"

"A single warrior can kill a hundred hivetung," Machadohunter says, indignant. "Sending two would be a waste."

I pause for a second, not wanting to accidently insult them. "I agree that the prowess of the Bartendor clan is great, but we need to maintain the element of surprise here. If they scream loudly before their deaths it could echo down the tunnels." I don't actually think it would alert them but I don't want to take any chances.

Hissing in reply Machadohunter says, "It is not to my liking, Jerry of clan Shifter, but your wisdom is sound. As the greatest hunter in my clan I shall go personally with one other and silently dispatch the pests. Lasadamother will organize the clan in my absence."

"Agreed. Warriors of the Bartendor clan come forth and gain your revenge," I say. Around me an explosion of excited purring erupts as the first four ferrets come forward. Machadohunter, Lasadamother and two others I don't know the names of. Laying my hands on them I send my gaze back into the other world and shift them. Suddenly four massive furry forms are in the bottom of the pit I had made.

"Oh look," my shadow says. "The rats finally come out to play." They wisely ignore my shadow's insults, immediately going to work. Machadohunter and a tabby colored ferret race down the left tunnel while Lasadamother and a black and white ferret clear the shifting zone.

"Whisper, bring me another group," I say.

It takes ten minutes of shifting to bring almost everyone over. I am tired now, a fine layer of sweat coating my brow. I've never done so much shifting in such a short span before. All I have left is the last group of ferrets, including Whisper then finally Sarah and myself.

"Sarah, you don't have to go," I say. This is not just some male desire to protect her that makes me make the offer; rather the strain of doing so much shifting has already drained much of my strength.

"No," she says firmly. "I want to pay that son of a bitch Solarkar back for all he's done. Besides, you're doing this to help me. I'm not hiding here while you do all the dangerous work."

Startled, I wonder at her words. _Am I doing this for her?_ To be honest it didn't really occur to me before. I got so caught up with fighting Solarkar that I lost the reason why. Sure, it had started off as some type of job, maybe even some type of vengeance for my mother. Now it is much more than that. _Am I doing this to fight injustice? To protect the world that shunned me? Or am I really doing this for Sarah? Risking my life for her?_

I look at her and I mean really look at her. She is still wearing the plain blue sweat pants and a brown leather jacket she had on earlier but the simple clothing seems to augment her beauty instead of retract from it. Her face is determined, set firm in her trust in me and the rightness of our actions. Sweeping her bleach blonde hair aside she comes next to me and I become all too aware of her body next to mine. Maybe I have more than one reason for doing this. I swallow hard.

"Whisper," I say my voice a tight squeak. "Your turn. I'll be there in a moment."

"Yes, Shifter. I shall await you on the other side. Our triumph shall be glorious!" He says in a purring voice that echoes loudly in the silence around me. 'Other side' he had said and I mentally shake myself at the double meaning of that word. Laying a hand on Whisper I shift him and two others over to his world. The pit is now full of ferrets all silently waiting for the chance to spring our attack. Quickly Whisper and other others make a small space for me.

Extending my hand to Sarah I feel my face redden at her touch. This is so not the time to be distracted. Focusing, I shift us over. The air changes from the damp, earthy wetness of the subway tunnel to the not so unpleasant odor of an army of large ferrets. The shift leaves me dizzy. As I feared shifting Sarah had taken much more effort than a dozen ferrets. Grabbing my arm Sarah steadies me, preventing me from collapsing all together. Those around us give me questioning looks. Showing weakness now would be a mistake.

"Too much shifting, I'm fine," I assure them. Taking a deep breath I center myself, gently freeing myself from Sarah's grip. "Whisper, let's end this." I draw my sword taken from the hivetung all those weeks ago, climbing on top of Whisper with Sarah just behind me.

"Let the chaos begin!" My shadow declares. I couldn't have said it better myself. In a single bound, Whisper leaps out of the pit, racing down the right tunnel. Machadohunter and Lasadamother are right behind us along with a tunnel full of angry ferrets. _Oh Solarkar, I have a surprise for you!_

The tunnel is dimly lit in greenish night vision-like hue from the luminescent moss growing prodigiously on the ceiling and I can't help but feel like a badass. Here I am charging down a large tunnel, riding a semi-truck-sized white ferret with a bone sword in one hand and an army of equally massive ferrets just behind me. I give an exhilarated whoop as a pair of Hivetung come into view just around a corner. Before they can even let out a cry or release their bladders Whisper tramples right over them. If they survived that then the follow up stampede of the rest would finish them off.

The area around us gradually expands until Machadohunter and Lasadamother run next to us on either side, feral grins on their furry faces. Around another turn and then just ahead I see a vast opening with more light present than in the tunnel. My heart thuds at a dangerous level and I get a firm grip on Whisper's fur. Ignoring my sweaty palms I hold my sword tightly. Suddenly, we are through and at the source of vision and in the center of Solarkar's strong hold.

When I first saw vision, that strange insect trapped in what I could only describe as amber. I could imagine Hivetung workers digging in a large query with carts of rocks being carried around by Whisper's kin, while stereotypical overseers with whips did their thing. The truth is far more terrible. No wonder my shadow approves of it. In a cavern so vast it could land several jumbo jets simultaneously with plenty of room to spare are hundreds of creatures, most of which are unidentifiable. It isn't because I haven't seen them before but rather from the billions of finger sized black insects feeding off their living flesh. Cries of unending pain echo continuously from all ends of the vast chamber mixed in with the constant thrum of insects. The noise in the confined space is intense. Each creature is pinned with bone shafts through their bodies, ironically like insects in a bug collection, to the ground beneath. It's done in such a way to keep the host alive and immobilized as their bodies feed the insects. The ground itself had actually turned red from the countless that had suffered here rather than natural soil composition. The stench of blood and worse is stifling. Wandering up and down the rows, oblivious to the cries of pain and smells, Hivetung carrying fern baskets collect insects off their hosts, gently setting them into their baskets.

In the center of the chamber, surrounded by continuous suffering is the Hivetung queen. It could be nothing else. The queen is a hideous combination of the tal,l thin Hivetung and a swollen caterpillar, extending nearly the length of the cavern. Significantly taller than most hivetung, the queen has a wide frame with gray flesh that looks sickly and moist like she was molded from cheap clay. Her head is similar to other Hivetung with overlarge eyes and a small mouth. Stick thin arms and legs that are as long as she is move continuously, scooping up bits of vegetation from nearby piles and shoving it eagerly into her mouth. That's where the similarities end. Stretching out from her hips the queen has a thick, round, bloated abdomen like an ant that quickly swells and stretches, growing into the size and shape of a long freight train. Wrinkly gray skin covers the abdomen with sporadic spots of thick, coarse brown hair down the entire length. Nodules protrude from this long growth every few meters, resembling the size and shape of orange construction cones. At each of these 'road cones' a Hivetung gently massages the tip extracting, a clear yellowish goo into another woven fern basket. Along the sides nearest to the queen are small recesses where oval shapes are cut into the surrounding stones. In each oval depression a tiny amount of the clear yellow goo is placed, followed by a single insect that is stuck as the goo solidifies around it. _Vision anyone?_

"My god..." Sarah says in a soft voice. Whisper's response, along with the Bartendor clan's, is less reserved. Roaring their absolute fury they charge into the hivetung, tearing them apart with a single swipe of their claws or just simply crushing them as they gallop on. Rational thought is gone. The Bartendor clan wants blood and perhaps, for the first time in this place of horrors the blood staining the ground is Hivetung. I want to help but can do nothing as Whisper leaps from one Hivetung to another, pinning them in place and efficiently biting off their heads before moving onto the next. "Whisper, stop for a second!" I yell, wanting to get off before I am flung off accidently. Pausing, Whisper halts, just having torn a head off his fifth Hivetung.

"I'm sorry, Shifter," he says, spitting out the head. It rolls like a lopsided watermelon, settling a short distance away. "This injustice must be dealt with by death!"

"Sure, but let us off so we can help," I say, not looking at the mutilated head.

Vaulting from Whisper's back Sarah and I land roughly on the ground. Without the constantly jarring effect from riding Whisper I get clearer view of the situation. The Bartendor clan has not lost all semblance of order. Several have gone into frenzies, much like Whisper had, but enough retain their wits long enough to cut off retreating tunnels and herd in the Hivetung. Death is everywhere. Above me to the left a ferret sends three Hivetung falling from a raised tunnel with a single swipe of his paw, entrails and blood trailing behind them as they fall. On ground level Machadohunter and Lasadamother tear into the immobile Queen, sending large squirts of blood arcing through the air where they rip out chunks of gray flesh. Many other ferrets cut off the screaming Hivetung as they try to flee to the nearest exit. Only a chosen few have swords like mine and all those lay unmoving, having already been killed in the first few seconds of the attack.

"Whisper, help us free the captives. The rest can kill the Hivetung." I say. The request is almost too much for him. The desire to kill is evident in his face.

"You are right, Shifter," Whisper says with difficulty after a few seconds. "Let us work quickly. I want to taste more Hivetung before the day is over."

Moving to the nearest captive I suppress a shudder. I have no idea what it is or if it's even alive. So many insects writhe around on its exposed flesh, feeding and breeding with abandonment. It looks like a self moving skin.

"Fucking gross," Sarah says in disgust. "How can we free them?" She looks like she's going to vomit, her skin just as pale and sickly as the day I rescued her.

I have no idea what to do as I watch the squirming mass feast before us, moving continuously over each other and their meal. Whisper gives me a helpless, puppy-dog look. He's too big to help. It's up to me. _What the hell can I do?_ I can't realistically pluck off each insect; that would take years. I need to remove the insects fast and move on to the next prisoner. The creature before me lets out a weak, piteous moan as a section of the insect covered mass moves slightly sending a ripple through the blanket of bugs on it before lying still again. The damn bugs are as merciless as my shadow.... my shadow. He can do something. Glancing around so fast my neck pops I find my shadow nearby, tormenting a Hivetung whose legs have been crushed by one of the rampaging ferrets. The Hivetung trembles in fear as the dark silhouette that is my shadow looms over him, dissolving small parts of him at a time while laughing. Hefting my sword I rush over, plunging my blade through the Hivetung's skull.

"Hey! I was playing with that!" My shadow says, sounding like a five year old who had his toy taken away.

"I need your help," I say. "Can you remove the insects covering the captives?"

"Probably, but I won't," my shadow says, giving me a nasty grin.

"Why!" I yell, not realizing the obvious.

"Because I don't want too, stupid. Do it yourself," my shadow says. Before I can protest further or yell insults he collapses into a dark pool on the ground and speeds off. Anger courses through me, nearly blinding me with rage. Fucking shadow. If only I could shift him away. _Shifting... Could that be it? Can I shift the bugs off?_ Shifting the bugs themselves would be impractical but what if I shift the bugs and their host. We'redeep underground so whereever I send them I would exchange them with the ground. Then I could shift the host back, leaving the bugs where they were!

Excitement pulses in me and I rush back to the bug infested captives. Sarah stands over the nearest swatting at the insects with the broad edge of a Hivetung sword she must have taken from one of the nearby fallen. She lets out a guttural cry, batting the bugs away which scatter momentarily at each swing only to re-swarm an instant later.

"It's impossible. Like lice from hell," Sarah says, panting from the effort.

"Stand back, I have an idea," I say, rushing to her side. Reaching out with my power I shift the creature, bugs and all. Sarah gives a startled yelp and Whisper tilts his head, looking at me in confusion. Where the creature had been, a mound of dirt now resides. Reaching forth to where I sent it I bring it back by itself, without the bugs and bone shafts pinning it in place. Most of the dirt mound suddenly vanishes and a watcher with bits of dirt on it now sits in its place. The watcher doesn't spring to its feet and attack like I had feared the moment I recognized it. It's in no condition to do anything but die. This time Sarah does vomit. I nearly join her.

The watcher is barely recognizable. The gray fur normally lining its body is gone and exposed muscles and cartilage are all that remains. Every one of the eyes adorning the raised hump on its back had been eaten and only red sockets remain with pockets of white eggs nestled deep in the raw tissue. Looking sadly at the creature Whisper bites its head off in a smooth and somehow nonviolent way. I don't protest. I am about to do the same with my sword. Spitting out the head Whisper turns toward me.

"The horrors of this day are unlike anything I've ever seen. We must free those who can be free and offer mercy to those who cannot."

"You're right," Sarah says, straightening up. She has her professional cop look on. The one that said she knew her duty no matter how painful it might be. "We've got a job to do."

I look around, taking in the situation. The queen is already dead, torn apart by Machadohunter and Lasadamother. Most of the remaining Hivetung lay dead or dying, the majority now in multiple pieces. Suddenly, a cluster of armed Hivetung appear from a tunnel, swords drawn and charging down toward us. As soon as they clear the tunnel several members of the Bartendor clan, hidden from view a moment before, crash into their lines scattering them with ease. Some Hivetung are simply trampled while others are disemboweled with a single swipe of large claws and others still have limbs or heads removed with a single bite. They stand no chance. Until the defense gets organized we are in no immediate danger.

"Let's get to work," I say. "Give mercy to those that need it. I'll handle the rest." With that I run down the row of captives, desperately looking for those that could be saved. There aren't any so far. Behind me Sarah and Whisper go to work, beheading those that are heavily infested. Suddenly, Lasadamother appear before me, tears streaming from her very blue eyes.

"Shifter," she says, panting heavily. "I have found our young and they are in desperate need. Please, I beg you, hurry!" Lowering herself to the ground she makes her intention clear. I don't hesitate. Leaping on her back much like I did with Whisper, she carries me to the far end of the cavern where two dozen relatively small ferrets lay with various levels of infestation. Around them standing sentinel are ten members of the Bartendor clan, their furry faces black with rage. Of the two dozen, eight lay dead their heads cleanly removed from their bodies. No malice was involved. It was done lovingly, almost gently and I see that Lasadamother isn't the only one with wet eyes. The other fourteen lay pleading with the adults around them, the insects swarming in and out of their open mouths as they beg for help.

"It hurts," one cries.

"Please, get them off me," another one says.

All the voices are weak and hoarse as if a blowtorch had scorched their throats. Hope had only been an illusion for them. The anger in me feeds my strength and I quickly go to each, briefly shifting them back and forth clearing the insects from their flesh. After I free each one the Bartendor clan comes forward, licking their wounds. Many, if not all, will die from infection if left alone. Most of their fur had been eaten away and raw muscle is exposed.

"We cannot save them," Lasadamother says sadly. "If they don't die from the wounds themselves then rot will take hold. Their fates are sealed."

"Nonsense!" I yell. "In my world we have medicine and tools to care for such things I will shift them there and care for them myself if I have too." Lasadamother and all the nearby Bartendor clan look toward me, startled by my revelation. Then as one they kneel before me, dipping their heads low.

"We are forever in the debt of the Shifter clan. We of the Bartendor clan thought we knew honor and the strength to live. Only now, seeing your prowess and compassion, have I realized how foolish and arrogant we have been. I'm proud of my son, who I now see hasn't lost his name at all. He had outgrown it and us as well. My son Whisper shall forever be remembered as he who has transcended all those that came before." Before I can respond to this revelation everything goes wrong. Solarkar has arrived.

Arriving in a style much as I had, he rides atop his canine golem with an army of Hivetung just behind him from a nearby tunnel. I felt like a badass when I charged in here atop Whisper but Solarkar has me beaten on so many levels. His army is larger, at least three hundred strong marching behind him armed with swords and spears. His canine golem with its stone hexagonal plate armor is bigger than any of the ferrets. Its talons comparable to a dinosaur's with a saddle of bone strapped to its midsection. Solarkar isn't wearing pink moccasins and a dirty black trench coat with sweat pants beneath. He is armored with the gray plated armor I had seen before, each tile glowing with a sigil written in light.

Bursting out of the tunnel he lets out a fearsome war cry, part challenge and part rage at the destruction we had already wrought. Sweeping his gaze across the room he fixates on the ferrets and then down to me. Our nearly identical eyes lock onto each other. A feral snarl crosses his delicate features and his bluish skin transforms to a purplish red tint. I can only assume it's because of absolute, mind-numbing rage. Pointing a bone sword at me with professional ease he lets out a shout in a language I don't understand. The meaning comes clear a moment later as he charges toward me atop his canine golem, his green hair billowing behind him like a grassy plain in high wind. _Yup, he's pissed_.

Closing the distance between us with remarkable speed, Solarkar's canine golem shreds the air I was just occupying as I dodge just in time. A gust of air buffets me as the creature passes by. That burst of air saves me. Thrown off balance I am already falling as Solarkar's sword narrowly misses my head, biting into my shoulder instead, and grating on bone. Intense pain shoots down to my fingers, making my arm go numb and lifeless. Falling hard I cradle my lifeless arm, fighting off the panic threatening to overwhelm me. Looking at my arm I am shocked to see the area blossom red with drops od blood already forming on my fingertips.

"Formations!" Comes a loud cry. Looking up I see the Hivetung pouring out from the tunnel and forming into several tight, medieval military formations, with long spears leveled at the Bartendor clan and at me.

"Feast upon your foes, Bartendor clan!" Comes the answering cry from Lasadamother as she stands protectively over the young. The resulting clash is overwhelming. Charging the Hivetung formations five ferrets speed around the area, picking off stragglers and any who don't react fast enough. The Hivetung swing back and forth, directing their long spears toward the Bartendor clan, preventing them from dashing in for the kill. Its precision clockwork as each opposing force tries to outmaneuver the other. Three ferrets including Lasadamother, stay with the young, shielding them from harm as the last two, tackle Solarkar and his mount with no real effect.

Larger than the ferrets the canine golem braces itself as they pounce and ricochet off its hide. Landing to the side their attack left long scratches along the stony plates. Grabbing a spear from his bone saddle Solarkar hurls it at the brown and white ferret, piercing deep into its neck. Letting out a cry a pain and a spray of blood, the ferret doesn't react in time as the canine golem bounds forward to engulf the ferret's entire head in its mouth. With a snap like a bear trap tripping, bones crunch from the force as the doomed ferret thrashes and pulls. Placing an immense stony foot on the struggling ferret the canine golem rears upwards, messily tearing off the ferrets head entirely, a thick string of raw meat dangling from its jaws. The creature's neck expands suddenly as it swallows its prize, blood coating the stony plates around its mouth. With a noisy slurp the dangling meat is also swallowed like a disobedient piece of pasta.

"Molespawn!" Yells the second ferret as it leaps once again at the canine golem. This time Solarkar is ready. Having already retrieved a second spear from his saddle, he neatly pierces the ferret's eye as it lands on the canine golem's rear. The spear tip exits out of the back of the ferret's skull, bits of brain and bone decorating the shaft. This time there's no cry as the ferret simply rolls off, dead before it even touches the packed soil.

A blood curdling roar fills the air as I watch, feeling utterly doomed as the canine golem comes at me, its mouth open wide enough to swallow me whole. Countless fingers just as Sarah had described encompass its entire mouth, all twitching eagerly to pull me in. Desperate, I shift but as soon as I start to move away from reality Solarkar blocks my power. I am too weak from all the shifting and can do nothing other than watch my death approach.

Suddenly a white blur slams into the canine golem with an echoing thud as Lasadamother topples the creature over, rolling together in a flurry of tooth and claw. Solarkar is thrown from his saddle, landing roughly a short distance away and tumbling hard on the uneven ground.

My relief is short lived as a wordless cry rises up behind me. Turning I see three Hivetung who broke off from their formations almost upon me, spears leveled at my chest. Before I could become a pincushion a furry mass plows into them, crushing two underfoot and disemboweling the third. The ferret doesn't even bother to stop, immediately circling behind the rest with furious intensity.

Any Hivetung that break ranks or get separated are killed in seconds, either torn apart or trampled. Many of the Bartendor clan have spear shafts sticking out of their hides, the fur around the wounds a deep red. A cream colored ferret provoked beyond all reason leaps into the middle of a Hivetung formation only to have them raise their spears, up impaling the beautiful creature with its own weight. A moment later the ferret collapses atop the Hivetung, scattering their formation for a brief moment. It's enough as two more Bartendor clan warriors fall upon the broken unit killing all.

Disregarding everything else Solarkar gets to his feet, striding purposely toward me with a fallen hivetung spear in his hands. Behind him Lasadamother and the canine golem fight like a pair of angry cats. On her back Lasadamother kicks furiously at the underside of the canine golem, her claws leaving deep furrows along its thick stony plates, making a screeching sound like fingernails on a chalk board. Howling and hissing at the creature atop her Lasadamother bites furiously at any spot she can. Many cracks and rivulets mar the golem's stony underside as the struggle continues. Returning to my immediate threat I rise unsteadily to my feet, my sword held awkwardly in my hand. My body trembles from bad combination of exhaustion and pain and I point my sword at Solarkar. He laughs at me.

"I am the greatest swordsman of Primehouse Vanguise. You think to hold your own against me, boy? The notion is ludicrous. For the disruption you have caused here today I shall let you live." He gives me a wicked grin. "That is, until the Vorscha eat your flesh. I don't care about the promise I made." He gestures to a nearby captive, its flesh covered in the black insects.

"Perhaps you are the one who will become insect shit," I say, barely managing to stay on my feet. An empty threat and he knows it.

"Feast upon your foes Bartendor clan!" Comes the now familiar war cry as the remainder of the Bartendor clan joins the fray, flanking the Hivetung formations, scattering and killing them by the dozens. In their lead is Whisper with Sarah atop his back. I grin. Solarkar forgets me for a moment to face this new threat and I can feel him shifting. _Oh, fuck no_. I might be weak right now but I can still do this.

Reaching out with my own shifting power I stop him, just like he did to me earlier. A blinding headache threatens to tear my eyes out of my skull from the effort but I manage it. Glaring at me, he starts toward me once more only to be knocked aside by a single swipe of Whisper's paw. Flying through the air Solarkar lands on his back with a thud, his borrowed spear landing just out of reach.

Whatever his strange armor is saved his life. Instead of being torn apart like the Hivetung, the sigils of light on his armor flash brightly as he was struck, dimming noticeably after the hit. Whisper doesn't relent. Turning instantly, he pounces like a cat on a doomed mouse and the rest of his brethren run circles around the Hivetung, killing those who can't react fast enough. Again the sigils on Solarkar's armor flare, nearly blinding me with its sudden radiance. The force of Whisper's blow sends dirt soaring high all around Solarkar and sends Whisper reeling from the rebound. Landing roughly on his side Whisper springs back to his feet immediately while Solarkar stays face down in the dirt, the sigils on his armor a pale shadow of their former brightness.

Sarah is nowhere to be seen. Jaws wide Whisper goes for Solarkar's head only to be repulsed again as many of Solarkar's sigils go out altogether.

"Taramak! Defend your master!" Solarkar screams, raising his face out of the blood soaked dirt.

Instantly the canine golem, still struggling with Lasadamother a short distance away turns toward Solarkar trying to free himself from his deadly battle. Lasadamother takes instant advantage, shattering many of the stone plates protecting Taramak's neck with a loud thunderclap. Howling his rage and overwhelming desire to help his master, Taramak wrenches himself from Lasadamother's grasp and tears open her throat a split second later. Crimson blossoms across her pure white fur and her eyes go distant and hazy.

"Mother!" Whisper cries forgetting all about Solarkar and charging the canine golem known as Taramak. Launching himself at Taramak they collide with the force of two freight trains, Whisper drawing blood from the weakened spots that Lasadamother had used her life to make. My fear for Whisper overwhelming, but as Solarkar slowly gets to his feet and retrieves his spear, I know I have my own battle to fight.

"Inferior mongrel, I shall make your pay for this day!" Solarkar yells, his face covered in shallow cuts freely oozing blue blood. We're both hurt and exhausted but I will be damned if I let him win. Looking around I search for something, anything that could kill him. Smiling, I find it. Sarah, unseen by Solarkar, is a short distance away, creeping up behind him with a stolen Hivetung sword.

"Solarkar, what will this Melephos do once he, she, or it finds out that you fucked up so badly?" I say. Pausing in his advance Solarkar looks rather alarmed as if he only now realizes his peril. He isn't scared by the surrounding army of ferrets but the mere thought of Melephos is enough to turn him deathly pale. Which, in itself, is astounding considering his blue skin. _Who the hell is Melephos?_

"Why the drug vision?" I ask, trying not to look at Sarah who is now much closer. "What are you trying to do? Indulge me before I die. You villains do so love to monologue."

"You could never understand Melephos, you pathetic worm. I will personally see your soul infused into his body, suffering for all eternity," Solarkar promises, starting forward again. Sarah is almost here.

Hefting my sword I wave it rather flamboyantly, trying to buy just a second longer, ignoring my painful shoulder. "In the timeless war cry of my people, I will fuck you up!" I yell, resisting a triumphant smile as Sarah, right behind Solarkar, swings her stolen hivetung sword.

Perhaps he has some kind of special sense or instinct, for he somehow realized his peril. He turns just in time to intercept Sarah's sword swing with his spear shaft which is sheared from the assault. Back peddling with two useless sticks in both hands Solarkar throws his arms wide, trying to shift Sarah and save his life. _No you don't!_

Using the last of my strength I block his attempt again. Eye's widening in realization at what I had done he can do nothing as Sarah's sword comes down upon him. Raising his arms to ward off the blow, Sarah's sword shears his left arm at the elbow, showering both of them in a spray of deep blue blood. His chest would have been cleaved open as well if not for the tiny bit of light still present in those strange sigils. The rebound sends Sarah stumbling back a few steps and before she can behead the bastard, Solarkar runs.

With the speed of an Olympic runner, Solarkar weaves past the Bartendor clan and runs back up the tunnel from which he came, trailing blood all the while. There have to be thousands more hivetung. Like the entire hive had been mobilized and they would be here in seconds. I have only one option left.

Stumbling forward I shift the tunnel entrance, sealing us in and away from harm. Falling hard to my knees my vision darkens and I take several deep breaths, trying desperately not to pass out. After a minute of deep breathing my vision returns. Looking around I can see that the battle is over. Taramak lay dead, his throat torn open by Whisper who kneels next to his dying mother. All around us the Hivetung are being ruthlessly chased down by the Bartendor clan.

"You alright?" Sarah says, helping me to my feet. The warmth of her body next to mine is a welcoming comfort along with her aid. I don't think I can walk right now.

"Just exhausted. Too much shifting." Speaking hurt. It sends ripples of pain across my mind that are a thousand times more painful than my aching body.

Ignoring my own needs I say, "Whisper needs me. Please help me." Nodding her understanding she hefts more of my weight onto her and slowly we make our way to Whisper's side.

It's bad, I can see that right away. Her throat is a mess of red meat with a large pool of blood growing steadily beneath her. Taramak had not only opened her throat but a good chuck of her chest as well. She only has minutes left.

"Mother, please don't die," Whisper says in a voice that I can barely be hear. His eyes and fur are damp from tears.

Lifting her head slightly, Lasadamother looks directly at Whisper, then to me at his side and Sarah still holding me up. "You have grown much, my son. I am proud to be the mother of Whisper of the clan Shifter. Take care of our young that can be saved and remember that I will always love you." With that Lasadamother, birth mother to Whisper, lays her head down and speaks no more.

"MOTHER!" Whisper cries, filling the entire cavern with his loss. Freeing myself from Sarah I go to his side, wrapping my arms around him as best I can.

"Whisper, I'm so sorry," I say, which feels terribly inadequate. "Oh, Whisper," Sarah cries, joining me in our pathetic attempt at hugging Whisper. At that moment Machadohunter arrives, a Hivetung head stuck between his toes.

"Lasadamother was a great warrior and a proud Alpha. She will be remembered," he says, looking down at her broken body. "We will give you a short span to grieve but we must depart soon. The hivetung in the vicinity are no more and our young have been retrieved. Jerry of clan Shifter, I was told that in your world you have ways of healing the sick. Is this true?"

"Yes, Machadohunter, we have drugs called antibiotics that will save them. I'll shift us after I get some rest," I reply, my shoulder flaring in pain.

"Very well, but I will stay with you since our escape is entirly linked with your fate. I will command my clan to grant mercy to the remaining captives as you rest."

Machadohunter begins barking orders and the young of the Bartendor clan are gently picked up by the scruff of the neck and carried off.

"We can't leave her here," Whisper says.

"We won't," I promise and unable to hold myself upright anymore I fall to the ground.

"Shifter!" Whisper says, looking at me for the first time since his mother died.

"I'm ok. Just exhausted," I say, my voice slurred.

"Is it safe to rest?" Sarah asks, a concerned look on her face. "I mean, won't the hivetung break through the blockage any second?"

"No, I shifted a lot of dirt here. I think it will take the hivetung days, if not more to clear it. The only trouble is if Solarkar shifts it out of the way but I think he is no condition to do anything." I give her a warm grin. "I think he is distracted by bleeding to death at this moment."

Sarah gives me a small, tight-lipped smile. "That felt really good." Whisper and I both chuckle.

Darkness closes in around me and I feel voices growing distant. I don't try to fight it this time. My words become even more slurred, perhaps entirely nonsensical. "I think I will sleep just for a second. Whisper take care of things..." and I know no more.

### Chapter 13 – Surprise!

I am in trouble and I know it. My arms feel like ten pounds of metal are strapped to each one and the bruises I have already received make my movements sluggish and predictable. My opponent has no such issues, moving with the confidence of a lifetime warrior. I desperately want to strike at him, to pay him back for all he had wrought, but it's useless. I am too far outclassed. Armored in white with a protective mask, he feints to the left and once again fall for it. Twirling like a tornado his sword hits my head with a resounding thwack and I fall to the floor for the second time.

"Halt," comes a voice from the ring of onlookers around us.

"Victory to Steven," the voice says.

Resigned, I roll over onto my back to see my opponent, Steven, extending his hand toward me. Letting out a long sigh I stretch out my own hand to clasp his. I don't want to admit it but I am grateful for the assist.

"You're getting better, Jerry," he says, lifting his face mask. Round, full cheeks with dark, almost black, skin Steven has been my sparring partner in Kendo for the last four months. He's much better than me but in all fairness Steven has been doing this his entire life. I only started after the great battle with Solarkar, finding my fighting skills to be lacking. I would have died if it weren't for Whisper and Sarah.

"I'll be happy if I could just stop spending so much time on the mat," I reply as we both bow.

In another ring of spectators a cheer arises as two more combatants fight. Nothing of their features can be made out from the white padding and face masks, but the taller of the two is utterly dominating the other, raining blows with frightening efficiency.

Joining the rest of the spectators, Steven and I watch the fight to its conclusion. Just as I had suspected the taller of the two finishes things quickly. A round of polite applause from the rest of us and both of the fighters take off their masks. As I had suspected Sarah once again defeated all who opposed her. She really is better at this than I am. I am careful to avoid her eyes as she scans the area, eager for more opponents. I don't want her to pick me to spar with. She has already beaten me soundly twice today.

"Line up," comes the instructor's command. We do so with me being the newest and lowest ranking at the very back with Sarah just in front of me. While our space is only one apart she was already better than many several ranks above her. At the front stands the instructor, an elderly man with a bald head and a long white beard. He has a slight shake to his hands that only seems to stop when he grips a sword. Then he becomes a mountain, unmoving against any foe. Next to him is Steven, much younger but no less able, having already achieved the rank of master.

We wind down the session with a series of stretches and exercises. I have a hard time focusing with Sarah bending right in front of me. When I awoke after the battle with Solarkar and Hivetung, Sarah had wrapped her arms around me tightly sobbing in relief. Confused, it was only then I noticed that I was in the tunnel at the shift point. I had been unconscious for nearly a day. Everyone had been nervous since I was their ticket home. Even now, months later her tight hold on me back then sends me blushing.

"Dismissed." Comes the command and we all bow, saying 'thank you, Sensei.' Heading over to her duffel bag right next to mine, Sarah withdraws a large thermos containing that brown liquid that she holds so dear. I don't see her eat much. I think she has evolved to the point where she can survive solely on coffee, deriving all essential nutrition from that one source.

"I have to swing by the station before I drive you home," Sarah says after several large gulps. "More paper work for the tunnel fiasco." Nodding in understanding I grab my own bag, heading off to the men's changing room.

Fiasco is an understatement. Since I was unconscious for over a day the cleanup work in the tunnel had already begun. In a way it was convenient since this granted me more space to shift but the presence of so many made it impossible to do secretly. I'm fairly certain that doctors at Greenbroch Mental Institution are helping a few workers out with a heavy combination of mind altering medication and patronizing bullshit. Both of which they have in plenty. Sarah handled things well, not even bothering to answer questions directed at us. Using her police authority she gets me to the hospital and help for all the ferrets, convincing all those involved that it was critical to an ongoing investigation. I have no idea how the hell she convinced everyone of that. But as l have noticed time and time again that if the answer doesn't fit people's perceived notions of reality then they will accept ludicrous responses, anything to keep things within the limits of their understanding.

Stripping down to my shorts I examine my arms and the various bruises I had collected today. Most courtesy of Sarah. Putting on a pair of blue jeans and a cream colored shirt I walk over to the sink where Steven is busy washing his face. Looking in the mirror I promptly ignore the men using the urinal just a short distance away focusing instead on my face. I have put on weight, my face filling out which isn't a bad thing since I was already emaciated from my youth. My copper hair is a sticky mess, stuck in clumps from sweat. Imitating Steven, I wash my face, combing my hair quickly with my fingers and feeling marginally better. Studying my reflection I am invariably drawn to my eyes, the same eyes that Solarkar had. I wonder for the millionth time since the fight if he is still alive? Did he bleed to death from Sarah's blow or did he recover and even now plotting his revenge? When we first met he had called me an interfering gnat. Someone to be effortlessly swatted aside who posed no real threat. Somehow I doubt he still consider me to be such.

"Your girlfriend is getting really good," Steven says, giving me a sly smile.

I feel myself blush. "She's not my girlfriend," I reply automatically, although we have been spending a lot of time together.

"Yet," Steven counters.

"She might be waiting for me to finally beat her," I say jokingly.

"Nah," Steven says. "If that was the case it could be decades." He laughs as I give him a scowl, knowing full well he's right.

"Still, I've never seen anyone so determined before," continues Steven. "It's like she thinks her life may depend on it instead of that gun she carries."

I say nothing, knowing it's impossible to tell him that might actually be true. With Shifters Incorporated's help, vision seems to have met its demise. While I slept Sarah had put the Bartendor clan to good work, destroying everything in the entire hive that they could reach. A few cases showed up from the dwindling street supply but nothing in the last month. Regular visits to the warehouse occupying the same place as the hivetung hive have shown that the hivetung are continuing with their lives with no trace of Solarkar to be found. I want to go back in to double check but all the underground tunnels now have sigil stones lining them. _Was it Solarkar?_ In either case it's over, at least for now. Fetching my black trench coat I head out of the locker room, putting it on as I go. Calling over my shoulder I say, "See you later, Steven."

"Bye, Jerry," he calls back.

Sarah is bundled up by the exit, looking like her mother had dressed her to survive an arctic storm. She has a thick white, fleece winter jacket that doubles her size along with a poof ball hat, thick pants, and knee high snow boots. Most important of all, at least to her, she has an extra-large coffee, fresh from the snack counter just around the corner. She is ready to travel miles on foot in subzero winter weather. Compared to her I am severely underdressed. In truth the cold has never bothered me much. I typically wear the same thing winter and summer with the occasional sweater when it got really cold.

"You will catch your death of cold out there," she says as I approached. She has been preaching the same thing for weeks now, ever since winter set in.

"Unlikely," I say grinning. "I think you will end up beating me to death first."

"You were sluggish today. The ferrets keeping you up at night again? Perhaps you should try coffee. It solves everything." She takes a long pull from hers.

"Yeah, they were re-enacting the Battle of Helms Deep last night," I say with a yawn. The fourteen surviving young of the Bartendor clan are recovering swiftly thanks to human medicine and the care of Whisper and a small number of Bartendor clan mothers. After the battle, Machadohunter left their young in my care, sending four clan mothers and two hunters to stay with me to help as best they could. It seemed overkill at the time. The first few weeks were easy. It was mostly spoon-feeding the young, with regular cleanings and bandage changing's followed by long periods of rest. Once their muscles recovered and fur had re-grown I found six helpers to be woefully insufficient. They get into everything. If I had thought the curiosity of Whisper and the adult Bartendor clan was bad, then the young were leagues beyond them. In my foolishness I had thought getting audio books might alleviate their boredom since, like me, they can't see the TV. Oh, how absolutely wrong I was. Now they are regularly acting out their favorite scenes, destroying nearly everything in the process. I've had to move apartments more than once already. Their attempts to mimic musicals are the worst, reaching into decibel levels previously unknown to man. I nearly fled the apartment along with my shadow. I have my limits.

"I got some more used books for them," Sarah says.

The Bartendor clan's hunger for stories is so great that Sarah and I have been giving them reading and, strangely enough, writing lessons. Books survive being shifted fairly well, suffering only minor damage in crossing realities. At their insistent requests I am gathering a large number of books for their return trip next week. Soon the works of Stephen King might become gospel in another world along with Sesame Street. I'm not sure which of the two possibilities I find more disturbing.

Their writing lessons are slower as they carve letters into wood, using their claws in preparation for returning home. Whisper, who is staying with me despite the pleas of his fellows, has an easier time learning to use my laptop with Brick. It's an odd combination. Brick can see the screen while Whisper can use the keyboard. He briefly tried typing with his tongue. That was really creepy and left the keyboard sticky. So they work in unison. Whisper types while Brick gives instructions. It was slow going but they are gradually improving. "Thanks, I'm sure they will appreciate that," I say.

"Are you going to miss them?" Sarah asks.

I think for a moment. "I guess so. I won't miss the chaos they cause but I've never had so many..." I hesitate, searching for the right word. "Friends before." The word sounds weird on my tongue, as if the syllables are foreign. I have friends besides Whisper and Brick now, lots of them. I feel giddy.

Opening the front door of the dojo I am assaulted by a gust of cold air that sends Sarah burrowing into the depths of her coat and which I promptly ignore. Winter has come with a vengeance, covering the landscape in several feet of compressed, wet snow. People scuttle to and fro, scraping ice off cars and waddling like penguins as strong gusts of winds blow loose snow in their faces. Stepping out into the cold I take a deep breath, enjoying the cool Chicago air as it chills my lungs. Sarah curses, keeping an iron grip on her coffee. We walk together down to her car which is hard to find buried by the ceaseless snowfall all around us. After several minutes of experiencing the joy of snow removal the car is free and we are on our way, the radio playing classical music that Sarah had introduced me to.

"Any luck getting your license yet?" Sarah asks still all bundled up even with hot air from the heater cooking the air around us. She doesn't look at me but instead squints out the windshield through a tiny rectangle free of frost in the center of her vision. One hand on the wheel the other on her coffee.

"No. They won't even seriously consider my application. They are afraid I would see a monster or something and crash," I say sadly.

"Would you?" Asks Sarah.

"Possibly," I admit. "But I'm getting better at focusing on one world at a time."

"I'll see if I can pull some strings for you," Sarah says, giving me a quick smile before narrowing her eyes back at the road.

"Thanks," I say, touched.

We pull into the police station parking lot a short time later. The sun is barely visible behind thick clouds that keep up a constant stream of snow. Turning off the car Sarah doesn't immediately run in and fetch her paperwork.

"This will only take a minute," she says making no move to get out. Perhaps she is colder than I thought. Taking a pull from her coffee she sets it down in the holder which I instantly take to be a sign of trouble ahead.

"Jerry, you have helped me so much with Solarkar and vision. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't be here," she says with her eyes directed away from me, peering through the small clear spot in the window which is rapidly icing over.

Embarrassed, I search my brain for something deep and meaningful to say but only manage a feeble response. "Well, I had too. Without your support all the coffee brewers in the city might face bankruptcy." It was a lame joke that doesn't break the ice of her strange mood at all. I have no clue what's going on.

"I'm serious. I couldn't have done it without you."

"Yes, sorry. I've never had a human friend before I'm not sure how to act at times," I reply, looking down at my shoes. I really like these shoes, covered with snow as they are. Perhaps I should clean them off and tie them again. They could also use a good shine.

"You're utterly clueless about women aren't you," she says, a tinge of exasperation in her voice. If I had thought I was embarrassed before I now reach new and unimagined heights. I haven't felt anything like this before, unless I count the time my shadow pulled off my pants, underwear included, while I was giving a class presentation. I think this might be worse.

"Sorry, I haven't ever really talked with a girl since the first grade when they thought my eyes were neat. Not counting the nurses at the mental institution of course," I add and then cursed myself. I really am bad at this. Perhaps everything will solve itself if I continue to study my shoes.

"With vision gone and me getting a lot of the credit I got a few job offers in Washington," Sarah says, her voice low.

That startles me. Glancing up I find her staring at me with those intense blue eyes. During the time I had been scientifically examining my footwear she had moved closer to me, our bodies now only a foot apart. I don't know what to say or do. I can feel my stomach churning. Sweat gathers in all the wrong places despite the cold and my lack of proper clothing. I have no idea what to say or do with Sarah's revelation.

She however, has no such confusion. It'squick and wonderful. One moment I am sitting there confused, and the next our lips are pressed together.

"Well, one of us has to know what they are doing," she says. Before the event could fully register with my brain she is out the door trudging through the blowing snow to the station.

"That was utterly disgusting. All these happy feelings you have been experiencing lately are making me nauseated," my shadow says from the car ceiling. Ignoring him I touch my lips, unable to believe what just happened. In my entire life I had never have such affection from another human being. I feel a wolfish smile cross my face.

"It won't last," my shadow promises. He doesn't say it to be cruel for a change. He says it more like prophecy.

"I don't care," I reply, feeling all warm inside despite my shadow's words. "I have it now. That's all that matters." I try desperately to believe my own words.

The ride back to my place isn't uncomfortable as I first feared it might be after our kiss. It's welcome, almost pleasant, as each of us reflect on possible futures and our own personal feelings. Wordlessly we exit the car, climbing up two flights of stairs to my temporary apartment. My thoughts blur with lighting speed as we climb up the exposed stair case to my third floor home. _Should I send out the ferrets to play in the snow so we can be alone?_ Again the confusion of what to do is nearly overwhelming. Normally Brick would be out here watching the entrance. Confused as I am I fail to notice his absence and its significance. As a result I am taken completely by surprise when I open the door.

The interior is pitch black and utterly silent like a crypt at night. That's not right. The Bartendor clan young should have been chasing each other, declaring victory for Robin Hood or performing a ABC sing-along with Elmo. Silence isn't right, something is very wrong. Still numb from Sarah's kiss I foolishly turn on the lights only to receive the biggest shock of my life.

"SURPRISE!" Comes an echoing boom from all directions. "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JERRY!"

Absolutely stunned I just stand there, speechless for a second before a laughing Sarah pushes me inside, closing the door behind her. _Is it my birthday?_ I've never even celebrated it once in my entire life and I didn't think anyone even knew it. To me it's just another day, nothing special at all. Before me are colored paper cut-outs of various decorations hanging all over the place. Balloons are everywhere with the young of the Bartendor clan trying to catching them as they slowly drift about on the floor. Brick sticks out of the far wall, blowing up more balloons. He appears to have a mouth full and can blow them up and tie them in his mouth before spitting it out and starting on another. Rather impressive. Whisper is on the kitchen counter along with the other six adults, staying safely out of the way of the rampaging younglings.

"I'll get the cake from the car trunk. I'll be right back," Sarah says, grinning at me. "Oh man, Jerry, the look on your face! Yes, that one right there!" Again she laughs as she exits the room, closing me in with the excited ferrets. Not trusting my legs I sit down at the table Whisper stands on. Instantly he comes over, pressing his furry face against mine.

"How did you do this?" I ask, not really believing my eyes. I had an easier time believing in sentient shadows and talking walls than the fact I could be thrown a birthday party.

"It was all Sarah's idea. She knew your birthday from the paperwork and made arrangements with me through my facebook page." He gives me a reproachful look. "I never knew you humans celebrated birthdays. You should have told me, Shifter. I would have done something years ago." Absently I stroke his soft, white fur.

"I've never had one. My mother didn't even bother to tell me when it was. I didn't find out until I was twelve or so," I say numbly. _Sarah did this...for me?_ I guess it was easy for her to find out the date from my rather extensive police paperwork.

Another balloon is launched by Brick to a chorus of youthful ferrets, erupting in glee as they chase the new balloon. Its blissful chaos and I smile. The door opens again and Sarah comes in carrying a large cake in both hands along with a bag trailing from her arm. Rushing to her side I grab the cake as she shuts the door. Setting the cake down on the table I look at the frosting and laugh long and hard. On it is an individual with copper hair chasing a green haired individual with a wooden paddle. Under the picture are the words 'Happy B-day, Shifter!' I have never been so happy in my entire life.

Setting down her bag Sarah takes out several paper plates and tubs of ice cream. She gives me a quick kiss on the cheek that sends me blushing along with a bombardment of cat calls... err ferret calls from all directions. Sarah barely has time to start cutting the cake when the young ferrets swarm us, eager for sugary goodness. Laughter fills the night as frosting covered ferrets fueled by pure sugar reach new and almost nuclear levels of destruction. It's great. Even the adult ferrets join in, not bothering the impossible task of controlling their young but instead enjoying their own sugar high. Perhaps it would be easier to move out than to clean up the mess. Let the owner keep the deposit, they would need all of it.

As with all things in life the night has to end but it will be something I will always remember. My favorite part was the game the young ferrets invented. Pin the tail on the shadow, who did not enjoy the game at all. They chased him all around the room with needles in their mouths as he spouted colorful curses at them, not deterring them in the least. Finally, having enough he left by the window, probably weakened to nearly death by all the merriment. Sarah leaves a short time after for an early morning meeting the next day and I am left to the task of controlling sugar high ferrets. A hopeless venture.

They run and play all night long but I don't mind the sleepless night. I am just too happy. The future feels golden and pure, especially after Sarah asked if I would consider going with her to Washington if she took the job, as an advisor, of course. My skills are just too valuable to waste according to her. It all feels perfect until Brick comes by three days after the Bartendor clan returned home with three little words that ruin everything.

"Solarkar has Sarah."

### Chapter 14 – It's A Trap!

I never thought my world could collapse with three little words. I foolishly believed I was impervious to such. The idea that three little words could destroy me was unthinkable...impossible even, until it happens. I am playing chess with Whisper and getting beaten rather soundly when Brick appears, uttering those three horrible words, his face a reflection of his misery. I blink at him, praying that I somehow misunderstood. It must be wrong. It has to be.

"Solarkar has Sarah." Brick says again, knowing full well I have to hear it more than once. His face lacks his usual good humor.

"What happened?" Whisper asks in a low, threatening growl.

"I don't know. I wasn't there myself," Brick says. "It came through several intermediates before the message reached me."

"So it could be wrong," I state more than ask, my world feeling unreal.

"No," Brick says sadly. "The message was quite clear along with the slaughter of a dozen of my kind to help speed it along." Brick takes a deep, painful breath and recites the message. "This message is for Jerry of house Price. Come alone to the hive and present yourself before my throne or Sarah of house bullshit will become food for the Vorscha. You have until midnight in your world to comply. So says Solarkar, disciple of Melephos." As Brick had said the message is very clear. A single glance at the clock tells me I have just under eight hours. It's 4:35pm.

"What shall we do, Shifter?" Whisper asks, the light of battle making his eyes shine. "We could charge in, slaughtering all who resist and rescue her."

"It's a trap, you foolish mole-spawn rat," my shadow says, leaning against the far wall. "Leave her to her fate."

"You cowardly gas cloud," Whisper hisses. "Return to the anus from which you were expelled."

"Enough!" I yell. I need time to process this. It has to be some kind of mistake. This can't be happening to me now. Not after all I've been through. Pulling on my hair I desperately try to think. There had to be a way. My skin feels clammy and my mind fuzzy; I can't reason at all. Only visions of Sarah with her blonde hair as she leans close, kissing me swim around my head.

"I have an idea," Brick says rather hesitantly. Desperate, I look at him. Right now I would leap on anything. Brick doesn't fail to notice that I have just pinned all my hopes on him. Face reddening, which was tricky considering he is sticking out of a pale lavender wall, he licks his lips before continuing.

"I was thinking about it on the way here. It would be tricky but it just might work."

"Get on with it, you African wall ornament," my shadow says impatiently. For a change I agree with him but remain, silent for if I start yelling I might not stop.

"As you know, I've had regular look outs keeping an eye on the warehouse where vision was so we saw the whole thing before Solarkar sent his message. We saw Sarah dragged to the central area. She was beaten badly but alive, with a sigil stone on her chest." Rage blossoms in me, clearing my head. It's a deep, burning hate that I haven't felt since that day in the hive. _How dare they lay a single hand on her. No one does that to my friends. I'll rip them into shreds scattering their bloody remains across all the worlds!_ My shadow gives me a wide smile, no doubt feeling my anger. That only pisses me off more. "The men who took her weren't hivetung, Jerry. They were more beings like Solarkar. All of them shifters."

_More shifters like Solarkar and myself? Just great. Where are they coming from?_ "Solarkar suddenly appeared. I knew it must be him since he only had one arm like you said he would. Rapid instructions were given out and they disappeared with Solarkar and Sarah. Two stayed behind, watching this world."

"What can we do?" I ask, my mind an odd mixture of hate and concern.

"Not much," Brick admits. "After Solarkar shifted, heavily armed men arrived. Going there in the human world would be certain death. The same with Whisper's world and surely the nearby worlds are also being watched also."

"The Bartendor clan won't tolerate this!" Whisper declares in a ferret roar. "They shall feast on these lesser shifters and free Sarah."

"It won't work," I say, shaking my head. "We don't have the time to fetch them. Midnight will be well past before we could." Crestfallen Whisper lays down, losing all trace of his battle lust from a moment before.

"Is there no hope then?" Whisper asks sadly.

"Well, I can't be certain but I think one level of reality might not be watched. The very lowest level," Brick says. The bottom... the stuff of nightmares. The closest place you can get to hell without dying.

"The bottom," Whisper says, the fear in his voice really emphasizing the true danger of this venture.

"Yes," Brick says. "I doubt they will guard it or be able to guard it long without dying. Jerry, you and Whisper could rush in and shift Sarah out, right from under Solarkar's nose."

"What about the sigil stone? They surely would activate it to prevent her from shifting." I say.

Again hesitant Brick looks at the dark silhouette still leaning against the wall. "Someone unseen could cross over and break the stone just before you arrived."

My shadow gives a scowl. "Are you suggesting that I do this?" My shadow says, crossing his insubstantial arms.

"Yes," Brick says simply.

"You could do it," I add, a faint flicker of hope blooming in me.

"No," my shadow says firmly.

"Why?" Whisper demands angrily.

"Because I don't feel like it," my shadow says as if stating the obvious.

"Very well," I say standing up. I know what I have to do. "Whisper, you stay here. I'll exchange myself for Sarah. Solarkar should accept that. She isn't a threat to him."

"You cannot!" Whisper shouts his very blue eyes wide in horror.

"He'll kill you, fool," my shadow says with a small trace of concern. Not for me but for his own continued existence, exactly as I was counting on.

Facing my shadow I say, "Yes, and perhaps you along with me. Unless you decide to do something about it." We face off, neither of us backing down.

"I could just kill her instead." My shadow counters. He's serious. He would do it.

"If you do then I'll kill myself just to take you with me." I reply coldly. A minute passes as we just look at each other. Whisper's head swings back and forth between us. In the end my shadow has only one option.

"You owe me," my shadow says darkly. Nodding at him I ignore the fact that I feel more concerned about his dark promise than Solarkar's intentions toward me. But it doesn't matter. Solarkar has Sarah, that's all that is important. Strolling over to the closet I retrieve the hivetung sword all wrapped up from storage.

"Let's go," I say. There's nothing left to discuss. Putting on my black trench coat and pink moccasins I go out to face Solarkar once more, with Whisper riding on my shoulder. I hope I can get the better of him one more time.

****

It's late, the sun having already set hours ago the area around the warehouse is illuminated by a few still functioning lamp posts. Visions of snipers fill my head as I look at each island of light shining brightly on the snow beneath. It's thirty minutes to midnight. A gust of wind screams through the air, swaying trees and fluttering my black trench coat as it sweeps the landscape. I shiver and not from the cold. We're just waiting for my shadow's return. Then down to the lowest level of reality, where god only knows what awaits us. Focusing my vision downward I can't see farther past Whisper's world no matter how hard I try. I will have to wait until I get closer.

"It is done," says a voice from the surrounding darkness.

"The sigil stone is deactivated or destroyed?" I ask.

"I said it was done, moron," my shadow says, bad tempered.

"Did anyone see you?" Whisper asks, nearly invisible in the snow at my feet.

"I am not seen unless I wish it, rat."

"Did you wish it?" Whisper asks. _A good question_. My shadow has been in a foul mood ever since I forced him to help.

"No," my shadow says, his voice dripping with malice. "Ok," I say, feeling incredibly nervous. "Whisper, let's do this. I don't want to keep Sarah waiting."

Laying a hand on Whisper I shift us to his world. The frozen parking lot recedes as Whisper's warm jungle-like home replaces it. We are near the hive yet far enough way so that we are still in the jungle's depths. Taking a deep breath I send my sight further down, to the spot where nightmares live. It isn't as bad as expected. I shift us again.

An endless sea of shimmering blue sand surrounds us with an oval moon casting an eerie light over all. It's so blue that at first I think it's was an ocean and that we will plunge into its surface. The creatures crawling on its surface convince me otherwise. They are not terribly frightening, rather they are disturbing. The creatures are like large crabs, slightly bigger than I am with a moss color shell dominating the majority of its surface. It has over a dozen spindly, red exoskeleton legs poking out from under its protective casing. On the surface of its shell is a large human face that takes up the entire front portion. The face reminds me of the one that ate my neighbor so long ago but this one doesn't look like a lunatic, instead it's sad. Incredibly sad, like it alone shoulders the burden of misery for all those in existence. Two pale human arms jut from the shell, making it look like someone is trapped beneath its surface. The sight of the creature is bad enough but it's the words that it speaks that really hit me hard. 'Help me,' it says over and over. Not in some way that it actually expects help, more like after an eternity of suffering and being ignored it says it as a type of reflex. The desire to help the creature is nearly overwhelming until it snatches a large rat-looking creature scampering on the blue sands with its human arms, quickly shoving it into its mouth. The sound of crunching bones reaches my ears and I can see bits of matted fur stuck between blocky teeth as it chews. The sad features are replaced by a look of triumph and greed, until it audibly swallows, then the look of absolute misery returns followed by another 'Help me.'

"I don't think they really need help," I say, revolted.

"No shit," my shadow says.

"Hmmm, helper crabs... I wonder if they taste like lobster," Whisper says. Turning to him I am a bit startled. I thought shifting him further down might increase his already prodigious size, in fact I was hoping for it. But he is exactly the same size as in his own world. _Interesting._

"I don't really want to stay here to find out." I reply.

"You could ask that," my shadow says, pointing with his dark shadow hand barely seen in the low light around us.

A short distance away another helper crab scuttles back and forth, doing gods only know what, when a mound of sand rises beneath it. Before the helper crab could move away a pit opens up with jagged edges, pulling half of the crab inside. The notion that this was some strange type of geological event is dispelled a second later as it snaps violently shut, spraying blood and bits of shell in all directions.

"Help me!" The helper crab says and this time I think it's genuine but I lack the motivation to do so. Another opening of its jaws and the rest of the helper crab disappears beneath the sand's surface. A loud belch echoes across the blue sands, sending the other helper crabs scurrying away.

"I'd rather not stay here and make friends," I say, hopping on Whisper's back. Dashing through the blue sands we head in the general direction of the hive. Sending my vision back and forth I direct us as best I can. It's odd looking into his world while directing him in this one.

"Shifter, we are not alone!" Whisper says and I can see that he is right. Brick was wrong, this area is guarded. Right where the hive is in Whisper's world stand a dozen hivetung, all armed with spears looking exceptionally nervous, standing in a tight circle. Their nervousness isn't unsurprising for like Whisper they haven't increased in size and for another several of their dead lay around the area, feeding the helper crabs as they watch. Small pincers stretch forth from under the shell snipping pieces of hivetung flesh before bringing the chunks back under while the human hands on the shell itself greedily grab bits to feed the face on the top of the shell. Perhaps the likelihood that we would attack from this world never seriously occurred to Solarkar, after all you would have to be mad to do it. Luckily most people thought I was.

"Kill them quickly!" I call to Whisper. "I'll shift Sarah here!" Giving a large ferret roar, Whisper is upon the startled hivetung in two bounds before they can even react. Crushing two with his landing, Whisper scatters the rest with a single swipe of his paw. Unseen until now in the center of the formation is a shifter much like Solarkar, with leafy green hair, delicate features and slit-pupil eyes like my own. His eyes widen in surprise and fear. Instinctively I feel him 'shift away. With a pull on my own power I crush his attempt. Whisper's head snaps forward with the speed of a mongoose, his jaws snapping shut before turning toward other prey. The shifter, now headless, still stands upright, blue blood fountaining from his neck. The standing corpse wobbles feebly for a moment before gracelessly tumbling backwards, moving no more. At least he didn't have that strange armor Solarkar had.

Suddenly the fight is over. The hivetung are scattered, several being picked off immediately by the helper crabs and one mysteriously sinking into the. Sending my gaze to Whisper's world I see that we are right in the middle of Solarkar's throne room with the surrounding sigil stones. In the center is Solarkar atop his dais with Sarah strapped to a crudely carved wooden chair nearby. Solarkar has a superior expression as he looks through realities at me. Sarah is a mess, beaten and bruised with her blonde hair plastered to her face with blood. She is tied firmly in place with thick, green rope along with some duct tape of all things covering her mouth. She is unconscious.

"So you have come in the first world, Inti," Solarkar says standing up, his armor's sigils aglow with power and a spear held loosely in his only hand. "I didn't think you would brave its perils, boy. It also saves me the trouble of sending you there. Alas, it has afforded you nothing. Your human companion is in not going anywhere until I decree it."

"Solarkar, shut the hell up," I say and he gives me a bemused look as I dash to Sarah. His look of amusement quickly changes to shock as I shift Sarah to this world, Inti as Solarkar called it.

"Impossible!" Solarkar says, his eyes wide in disbelief. I feel the tug as he attempts to shift us to his world but I am far stronger and block him easily. Sarah is still tied to the chair, the materials surviving the shift.

"Whisper, to me!" I cry. Instantly he is at my side, cutting through Sarah's bonds with a single swipe, leaving a long furrow in the back of the chair. Picking up Sarah I carry her to the protection of the sigil stones while Whisper remains tense and ready.

"You infidel!" Solarkar screams from the safety of his world. He begins barking orders but with Whisper at my side he will need a lot of forces before he could become a threat.

"Sarah," I say, peeling the duct tape from her mouth and leaning forward, ready to give mouth to mouth if needed and that's when Solarkar's plan becomes clear.

Suddenly small, black segmented legs protrude from Sarah's mouth. I open my mouth to scream or yell, I'm not sure which, but the bug never gives me the chance. Launching itself like a bullet from where it was residing in Sarah's mouth, it lands right on my mouth, quickly making its way inside, forcing itself past my teeth and cutting my checks and lips in the process. Revulsion surges through me as I gag, reaching inside my mouth after it but it's useless. With the feeling of swallowing a live frog, it is down my throat and beyond my reach despite every attempt to bring it back up.

"Stupid boy," Solarkar says and I glare at him through realities. "You think I hadn't planned for such? I may have overestimated you before and I am impressed at your cunning. You have come in a world I didn't think you would and somehow even managed to destroy a sigil stone right from under my nose. How did you achieve such a thing?"

"Fuck you," I say coughing. I think I'm going to be sick.

Solarkar laughs. "No matter. I'll leave you to your fate in the first world. Pray to Palentor that you die quickly." Again Solarkar smiles. "Though I don't think that will be probable."

The truth of what happened hits me a moment later as my shadow, unseen by all whispers in my ear. His voice is laced with fear for the first time ever. "What the hell happened? I can't shift anymore." Reaching outward I notice immediately that he is right. That part of me that could shift isn't there. Now I am trapped here in this world with no way home.

### Chapter 15 – Brave New World

"Well good job, stupid," my shadow says for the umpteenth time. "All you had to do was listen to my advice and leave the bitch, but noooooo. You had to go play the hero and now we all die."

I want to tell him to shut the hell up. To shift away and leave me alone but that is impossible now. Besides, he is right. I screwed everything up. Strangely Whisper is taking all of this as a kind of grand adventure, exploring new lands, battling new foes, and seeing new wonders. Of course, being virtually fearless by nature and on the same scale as a semi-truck really boosts one's confidence. I have no such assurances. The only thing I had was my ability to shift and now that's gone. Sarah, still unconscious in front of me atop Whisper, is spared the horror of the situation for now.

After I found out we couldn't shift I mounted Whisper, hauling Sarah on top and we took off at a run. The last thing I wanted was Solarkar to shift us to the hive where it would be thousands against two. Fortunately, the same sigil stones that protected his hive gave us time to escape. Solarkar wasn't perturbed, laughing and mocking me about my forthcoming death here in the first world, Inti as he called it. Inti... the name is vaguely familiar in an uncomfortable way, like childhood abuse long since forgotten. I will have to look it up if I ever get home again.

My stomach gives a painful lurch as the bug I had inadvertently swallowed moves around. I am holding onto the hope that he bug will either meet its demise at the hands of my stomach acids or pass through me. While I hope it will happen I avoid imagining what that bowel movement would be like. Not a fun image. In truth, I really doubt it will happen. Solarkar is too smart for such an obvious flaw. I will have to think of something else, preferably something other than Stone Age surgery. My stomach gives another lurch but for a more natural reason. I am hungry and utterly exhausted.

"Whisper we need to rest and eat," I say, looking down at Sarah. "I also need a safe place to tend Sarah." _Why hasn't she woken yet? Perhaps she's in a drugged sleep so she couldn't warn me about the bug_.

"I shall find us a den to rest," Whisper says, his white fur alarmingly bright amongst the endless blue sands.

We're still in the desert although now bits of sporadic vegetation are present on small outcrops of rock. The predawn light is just visible on the horizon. If the blue sand and helper crabs are not evidence enough of our situation the sun itself is offsetting with an odd mixture of colors never seen on my world. It looks utterly alien and, despite the presence of Whisper and Sarah, I feel incredibly alone. I don't belong here.

Scanning the brightening horizon I look for somewhere safe to rest but all I see is more blue sand. _Does a safe place even exist on this world?_ Surely even the creatures here had to rest in safety for a while. Suddenly Whisper swerves to the right, jostling me from my self-pity. Ahead of us I see a substantial outcrop of rock, almost a small hill, in the distance. For me it would be an hour walk there at least but riding Whisper it takes a mere five minutes. It's a rather tall pillar of black volcanic rock with small, yellow shrubs growing in cracks along its surface. If I wasn't in an unfamiliar world with unknown perils lurking everywhere I would have loved to explore its features. Now, I am only interested in any possible shelter it can provide.

Circling the stone mound Whisper halts in front of a large opening wide enough for even him to fit through. Stretching his head forward like a cat cautiously inspecting a handout, Whisper sniffs the air, panting heavily between deep breathes.

"It smells cool and damp," Whisper says, a note of desire in his voice. "Maybe there is water inside."

At Whisper's words I too feel thirst take hold. I lick my parched lips. Vaulting from Whisper's back I haul Sarah down after me, resting her on the blue sands as best I can. Once free from his burden, Whisper starts forward until I hold my hand out for him to stop.

"Wait, Whisper. We don't know what is in there," I say then add. "Shadow can you look inside and see if it's safe."

"Why should I? This is all your fault, stupid," my shadow says bitterly.

"Stop insulting, Shifter," Whisper says in a growl.

"It's the truth, rat."

"Yes, this is all my fault," I say angrily. "Happy now? I fucked up royally. I doomed us all and only by listening to you could we possible have avoided this. So, unless you want us all to die, help us out. I'm sure you can see more evil things here and have lots more fun if we survive."

I seem to have told him all he wanted to hear. With a simultaneously superior and devilish laugh, my shadow actually stops being bitchy and takes on his standard evil attitude. "I shall help you. Next time listen to me, stupid." Condensing into a black pool my shadow speeds past us, becoming invisible the moment he enters the darkness of the cave.

"This was not your fault, Shifter," Whisper says defiantly.

"Maybe, but if it wasn't for me we wouldn't be here," I say depressed.

"If it wasn't for you Sarah would be dead several times over and many more would fall to Solarkar and his evil designs." Whisper says with absolute confidence. "My mother was right. Clan Shifter is proud and strong. I would choose to be nowhere else other than at your side."

"Your mother died because I wanted to stop Solarkar," I say my voice small.

Whisper's voice isn't small it's nearly a boom. "She died rescuing the younglings from a horrible fate. That was a choice any member of the Bartendor clan would make and pay for a hundred times over. You did everything right." Walking over to me Whisper rubs his face against my body nearly knocking me over. Reaching past his ears I give them a hearty scratch.

"Thanks, Whisper. You're the best," I say.

"I leave you two alone for just a minute and you start making out. If your tastes swing that way why bother rescuing the girl?" My shadow mocks.

Whisper cocks his head, looking confused at my shadow who is now a dark silhouette leaning against the black stone, his arms crossed. Not wanting Whisper to inquire his meaning, I press forward. "Is the cave safe?"

"Mostly. There is about thirty of those annoying helper crabs inside, sleeping next to a stream."

"I shall deal with them and have dinner as well. I shall save you some, Shifter. Wait here," Whisper says before darting inside.

My stomach gives a lurch as Whisper's bright white outline disappears in the dark and my limited future dietary choices are now apparent. On tonight's dinner menu we have raw helper crab or raw helper crab. I hope they taste like lobster but I rather doubt it.

I sit down next to Sarah's unmoving form, watching the brightening sky and thinking of home. I absently stroke her soft hair as a violent clash of conflicting colors fills the sky. It's a beautiful but odd mixture of red and blue. The reason for the phenomenon becomes apparent a moment later as not one but two suns crest the horizon. One is a fiery red, filling a rather alarming portion of the sky and the other, partially overlapping the first is a smaller, iridescent blue. The mismatched light isn't the only thing to hit me. Once the suns break the horizon a heat wave washes over me, causing me to sweat on the spot. The weather had been comfortable and rather pleasant, now a record hot summer day in Florida assaults me.

"Well, this just keeps getting better and better," my shadow says, shrinking to a small blotch on the blue sands before retreating into the cave mouth. Carrying Sarah like a sleeping princess, I join him in the shade which feels blessedly cool in comparison.

"Two suns, that's just perfect," I say bitterly.

"No wonder the crabs hide before dawn," Whisper says from right behind me. He snickers as I jump. How such a large and bright white ferret managed to sneak around so well I shall never understand.

"Finished already?" I ask.

"Yes, Shifter. They are very tasty. There are plenty to share," Whisper says licking his lips. I doubt I could stomach even a few mouthfuls let alone eating an entire crab.

"Before I dig in can you show me the stream?" I say, picking up Sarah once more.

"Of course, follow me, Shifter," Whisper says, bounding off into the dark cave. I follow at a much more reserved pace, the light from the rising suns makes it easy for me to see.

The cave isn't as deep as I first thought. After a minute of careful walking the gurgling sounds of water welcome me along with the corpses of thirty-something helper crabs. Whisper, seeing I need no help, curls up on the cool cave floor and starts on his forth helper crab. The crunching of bone and shell effectively dampen the sound of running water.

Setting Sarah down next to the stream, I take off my trench coat and, using my hivetung sword, slice a small piece of fabric from the end. Dipping the cut cloth in the stream I squeeze a small amount of water into Sarah's mouth. At first she doesn't respond, the water simply pooling in her mouth as she breathes through her nose shallowly. Then a swallow, followed by another and a fluttering of eyelids. Without opening her eyes she speaks in a dry, pained voice.

"More..."

I comply, dipping the cloth into the stream a second time then a third and fourth. "Stop..." Sarah says, still not opening her eyes but her voice is more at ease. Resting her head in my lap I dip the cloth back into the stream and wash her face. Solarkar's men had really worked her over. Dark, ugly bruises cover most of her face. It's like she went ten rounds with a professional boxer. I can only hope that she made them pay for each blow. I'm certainly in no position to take revenge. Her breath comes easier now and I gently lower her head to the earth, seeing to my own needs.

Scooping handfuls of water into my mouth I eagerly drink the cool liquid. After a dozen handfuls of water a new need makes its presence known. Finding an out of the way place, I relieve myself, returning to the stream to wash up. This only leaves my stomach. Looking at disgust at the helper crabs I see that only twenty are uneaten, Whisper having finished off ten already. Perhaps they aren't as bad as I fear. Whisper, still lying on the floor, licks the inside of an inverted shell, getting the last tasty bits out. They smell horrible, like a day old raw shrimp left in the hot sun. Grimacing I pick up my hivetung sword, striding to the nearest. It's upside down, the front of its shell smashed in from Whisper's killing blow, its legs curled in on itself like a dead spider. Swinging my sword, I cut off the legs at the base.

"The legs are the best part," Whisper says as he drags another helper crab toward him and begins crunching on its exposed legs.

"I hope you're right," I say, picking up a severed leg that is thicker than my arm, examining the interior. A thick, almost clear goo is trapped inside. Inserting my index finger into the opening I fetched out a small piece, hesitantly putting it into my mouth. It is beyond gross. It's like eating a rather large wad of thick phlegm. Fighting my desire to gag I swallow. It tastes even worse going down. I set the rest of the leg down, sighing.

"What's the matter?" Whisper asks, finished with his legs and starting on the main shell itself.

"He's too sensitive," my shadow mocks. "Shall we order out for pizza? Make sure you tip well for trans-world delivery."

Ignoring my shadow I say, "I can't stomach this. I wonder if I can cook it somehow."

"That sun is very hot, maybe not enough to cook it but you could leave the legs outside while we rest," Whisper suggests. Having no better idea I do as he suggested, taking a full thirty legs and arranging them in the sun. Walking under those blistering suns I have to wonder if it will be enough to cook them after all.

Quickly retreating to the cave I see Whisper with his face in the stream, drinking heavily before settling down next to Sarah. Joining him, I prop Sarah against his warm flank, lying down next to her as we use Whisper as a pillow. It's strange but all of a sudden I feel at peace. I am in a dangerous situation and could die at any moment but I have Whisper and Sarah with me. At the moment I could believe that everything will be fine, somehow. Yawning I turn over, snuggling deeper into Whisper's fur while simultaneously curling next to Sarah. Sleep quickly takes me.

The dream comes suddenly like the last one I had so long ago. I am ethereal, not really there but present like a distant ghost. Again the young girl is there, the now familiar leafy green hair that Solarkar has along with the blue skin, but hers is several shades darker, approaching black. Another difference that I can see between the two is her eyes, a deep, rich purple instead of the bright green ones that Solarkar and I have. Sitting cross legged in the same courtyard as before she mediates in the dawning light. Looking up I see a thick, semi-transparent haze covering the entire horizon like some god had coated this part of the world in a thick layer of sunscreen. Through the haze I see the distinctive two suns that are plaguing me, but with none of the intense heat. Too bad wherever I was we didn't have the same benefit. Drifting closer I feel unreal as I did last time, a mere thought of a person. Perhaps I am an especially strong thought for the girl's head snaps in my direction.

"You have returned to Inti once more. Why?" The girl says, her voice soft and low as if she's afraid she might be overheard. Indeed she glances all around nervously. Following her gaze I see sentinels patrolling once more on the high, black stone walls, spears in hand. This time I am certain they are watching her, not the outside.

"I'm trapped here," I say, unable to raise my voice more than a whisper. "Is this a dream?"

She frowns, at me her brow furrowing in concentration. "The sending is weak from the distance separating us. Did you ask if this was a dream? If so, then my answer is no. The corruption in my blood is powerful, yet subtle. It is drawn to you when your mind is open and receptive."

Not understanding her meaning I press onward, not knowing how much time I have. "I'm stuck here in Inti. Can you help me?"

Again she frowns, then a look of alarm crosses her features. "How can this be? You are trapped in the first world? Have I mistaken your meaning?" I nod, confirming her suspicion. Reaching forward, her arms enter my insubstantial body and a flashback plays in my mind for the last twenty-four hours. I relive the message from Brick, the descent into Inti, Sarah's rescue and Solarkar's trap. It ends with us in the cave and blue sands just outside.

She must have seen the same highlight reel for she recoils, a pained look on her face. "You are here and trapped. You have but one choice if you wish to live. Listen carefully for I feel the connection weakening and it might be some time before we can converse again. Travel toward the rising suns in the day and away from them in the evening. Do the same for the moon. Always seek shelter well before the suns' zenith. Do most of your traveling by night. Keep traveling in this away until the blue sand sea ends and you reach the graveyard of the first creation. You will know it once you see it. Remain there for the Kiraten shall come. They will not be your enemies but approach with caution, for they will be wary." This last part she adds with emphasis. "Do not let them see the corruption inside you. Do not let them see your shadow." With that the dream ends and I sit bolt upright.

This time there is no question about it. That was not a dream. Thoughts of Solarkar and all he had wrought fill my mind along with the mysterious girl and her promises. _Should I trust her? Who are the Kiraten? Do I even have a choice?_ Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I look around. The light outside is bright, brighter than I thought possible. Avoid the suns' zenith. The heat and the shear intensity outside do suggest that this at least is a good course of action. Turning away from the light I see Whisper sleeping soundly with Sarah against him. I debate waking them up and confiding what I saw with them, but it could wait. I am tired. Let them sleep, we will all need the rest for what is coming. Lying against Whisper once more I close my eyes, drifting back to slumber.

This time when I awaken things are noticeably different. The sunlight is considerably weaker and the intense heat from earlier has mostly dissipated. The other major difference is that Sarah is absent. My sleep-clouded mind instantly puts images of Solarkar kidnapping her into the forefront of my brain. This absurd notion is dispelled as Sarah gingerly walks from around a rock, reaching the stream. Unaware that I am awake she bends down, drinking heavily from the stream.

"You're finally up, Shifter. I didn't agree to function as your pillow," Whisper says with warmth in his voice. Before I can rise off him he puts his face right next to mine and licks.

"Ah, Whisper!" I cry, getting to my feet.

"Yeah, he woke me up the same way," Sarah says also getting to her feet.

"You were pulling on my fur," Whisper counters. I join Sarah at the stream, washing the ferret saliva off my face, a natural thing to do first thing in the morning.

"Where are we? What happened?" Sarah asks.

I sigh. Sitting down I tell her. I speak for a long time, recapping everything, leaving out only the bug in her mouth part. Some things are better left unsaid.

"Do we have anything to eat?" Sarah asks, not looking at the dead helper crabs.

"Sure do!" Whisper says excitedly, starting on another helper crab. Sarah blanches as Whisper eats.

"Wait here, I'll be back," I say going to the front of the cave. The light, while intense, is bearable. The suns outside rapidly descend toward the horizon. I look in their opposite direction, the one the girl from my dreams told me to go. I see nothing but more blue sand. Gazing down to the crab legs I had set out earlier I pick one up, examining the fleshy inside. It's fully cooked. The interior is now full of delicious smelling meat. _Just how hot did it get during the day?_ Scooping up all the legs, I head back inside with my prize.

"Dinner is served," I say, handing Sarah three large legs and setting down the rest before starting on mine. Whisper tentatively sniffs the cooked legs his nose twitching. He shakes his head at us in disgust before returning to his raw food. It'sdelicious, tasting just like shrimp. Now I just need some melted butter.

"You know what this needs?" Sarah says digging in to hers with gusto. I am guessing that she is also going to mention butter but alas I am wrong. "Coffee. Once we get back I'll get a IV of the stuff directly into my bloodstream."

"There is no getting back, you stupid cow," my shadow says, making Sarah jump. "We are stuck here all because Jerry had to play the hero and rescue you... again. How incompetent are you? Do you enjoy playing the damsel in distress?"

"Stop that!" I say, my temper flaring. Sarah however looks down at her bare feet.

"He's right," Sarah says, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry, Jerry. I'm so so so sorry."

"It's not your fault," I say. "Solarkar wanted us to pay. He was coming for us one way or another. I was really hoping he was dead."

"Don't worry, Sarah," Whisper adds, purring as he licks another empty crab shell. "At least the food is good. It shall be a grand adventure. Shifter will think of a way to get us home." Whisper's constant, unending confidence in me always leaves me feeling unworthy of his trust. At least this time I do have a plan of a sort.

"Shifter will think of a way to get us home," my shadow mocks. "No he won't, you flee infested musk smelling pillow. We will die here."

"You dare repeat that," Whisper says his voice a snarl.

"I do have a plan," I say drawing everyone's attention. Even my shadow seems surprised.

"You do?" My shadow says, disbelieving. "Does it involve eating the rat and the woman?"

Ignoring his sarcasm I tell them about my dream. "So, we need to head toward the suns in the morning and away from them in the evening, same thing with the moon when traveling by night. We should rest during the hottest part of the day. If these crab legs are any indication it gets hot, very hot at noon. We will keep going like this until we get out of this desert. Once we get out of here we will reach some kind of graveyard and some people called the Kiraten."

A look of extreme skepticism crosses Sarah's face, so I quickly continue. "What choice do we have? This is our only chance." The girl mentioned not showing my corruption, specifically my shadow. Looking at my shadow I wonder. 'Corruption' the girl called it. The word seems appropriate.

"She also said not to let them see my shadow. I need you to act like a normal shadow when that happens."

"What, you want me to follow your around and behave like all those lifeless imitations I see?" My shadow says.

"Basically," I say.

"Why should I?" My shadow asks.

I sigh. Why must he make everything so hard? "Do you want to live and get out of here? Then act like a normal shadow when the time comes."

"So, do you dream of this girl often?" Sarah interrupts, her voice odd and a bit cool.

Startled, I look at her, confused. _Why would she want to know that?_ "Just one other time," I say.

"What's her name?" Sarah asks.

_Uh, what is going on?_ "I have no idea," I say.

"She's just your dream girl is all, right?" Sarah says this rather bitterly and my male self-preservation instinct begins flashing all sorts of alarms.

"It's not like that," I say. _Did the sun temperature suddenly increase?_ I distinctly feel a rise in temperature.

"Never mind," Sarah says haughtily. "We better follow your dream girl's instructions and go." Standing up she gathers up the crab legs and stomps to the cave mouth.

"You're so smooth," my shadow snickers at me.

"What was that all about?" Whisper asks.

"I have no idea," I say. "Let's go. It's going to be a long dry day." Picking up my hivetung sword I start toward the cave mouth, lamenting the water we are leaving behind. This is going to be a long, thirsty trip.

****

My mouth is far beyond dry. If my mouth were dry I would consider it a vast improvement. It actually feels like my mouth is full of the endless blue sand. I can't even spit it out for that would require saliva. We have traveled all night long, Whisper covering distance with the speed of a mag train. Yet for all of our progress no end is in sight. Now we desperately search for any shelter for the coming day. Already the two suns have risen beyond the horizon, baking us with intense heat. I have already stopped sweating. I don't have any moisture to spare. The suns consume all. I feel sorry for Whisper. He carries Sarah and me while my shadow scouts around for any potential shade. So far we see nothing as the day becomes hotter and hotter. Whisper pants with every step, heavy ragged breaths coming through his dry, cracked mouth.

"I need water," Whisper says as he runs, his head swinging desperately back and forth.

"Hopefully shadow will find something soon," I reply and I desperately try to believe it.

"These accursed suns are merciless," my shadow says a second later. I can't see him. The glare from the blue sands is just too bright. "I found a spot to rest. Go to your right, rat."

Whisper doesn't bother to retort and just obeys, which tells me how bad of condition he is in. We travel at my shadow's urgings until a small yellow structure comes into view. It is hard to tell what it is. A natural formation or a bleached bone of some large animal unfortunate enough get trapped out in the sun. It doesn't matter, it will have to do. It's big enough for Whisper to enter through a large crack on the side facing us. Once inside relatively cool air welcomes us. In truth, the air is still comparable to the interior of a microwave but compared to the exterior temperature it is bliss. There's even some water in hollows along the edge. Whisper doesn't hesitate, instantly drinking from the nearest pool of water. It's gone in a minute. Several smaller pockets of water are present, enough for Sarah and me to drink our fill as well.

With my immediate concern taken care of I examine the yellow structure. It's large with enough room for all three of us but not a lot more. Placing my hand against it I feel its surface. It is rough and warm with hardened knobs on its surface. A shell of some long-dead animal I suppose. Looking around I see several smaller animals about the size of rats scurrying about, hiding from us. All are out of sight before I can do anything. Exhaustion and hunger pull at me with equal strength.

"Whisper, come here for a second," I say lamenting at what I am about to do.

"Yes, Shifter?" Whisper says, coming forward. Wordlessly I give him all the remaining crab legs, save one for Sarah.

"What about you, Shifter?" Whisper asks concerned, his warrior pride offended by being offered all the food.

"You're doing all the work. You need the food more than I do. I can eat when we get more," I say. Sarah, looking down at her single crab leg, sighs and gives it to Whisper also.

"Jerry's right, Whisper. You need your strength more than we do. Please, for all our sakes eat."

Whisper doesn't like it but in the end he eats. He eats every little bit, utterly famished from his hard day of toil. We are about to get what sleep we can when the cry comes.

"Help me," a cry comes from beyond our improvised shelter. A lone helper crab walks very slowly toward us. It sways from side to side, unable to move at more than a slow crawl. Whisper rises to his feet, eager to help in a way the crab wouldn't like but I hold him back. The suns are almost at their peak, just visible through the yellow shell. The shell looked rather solid before but the light is so intense now it's penetrating even through this. The sands outside almost seem to melt the air, distorting as the noon suns climax. The helper crab is now just outside, only a meter away from shelter when it collapses, cooking on the spot. Sizzling and high pitched sounds come from the crab but it is long dead. The top of the shell bursts open as boiling fluids leak from the shell, pooling on the sand and frying in place. We wait, watching the crab cook and realizing how close we had come to sharing its fate. For ten minutes the crab cooks before the suns pass their zenith and we are able to drag it inside. We let Whisper have most, who eats ravenously while Sarah and I split a single crab leg. Feeling marginally better but still hungry all three of us curl up and sleep as best we can.

The next day is no better. Traveling mostly by night and desperately seeking what shelter and water we can. With nothing to do but watch the sands go by I talk with Sarah. We tell each other about our childhoods and our shared love of music. I find out that she has an older brother high up in the army. Both her parents died when she was twelve and her brother raised her and put her through college. I won't admit it but I am jealous. My family life was a joke. The love she had growing up was almost painful to hear about.

"So, tell me about this girl you dream of." Sarah asks, wincing as the suns blaze just cresting over the horizon. The trip has been hard on us so far but Sarah has it far worse than I. Whenever the suns are out she talks nonstop until her mouth is too dry to continue. I think talking helps keep her mind off her discomfort. Hell, discomfort is a grand understatement. Her skin is a bright, angry red everywhere the blasted suns touch. The sun has stripped the last blonde from her hair making it a pure snow white color. Not an old crone's white but a healthy dry white, like silk in the sun. I fare much better. I 'm hot but otherwise unaffected. I have even given Sarah my shirt to use as a comical shawl but my skin still stays its usual sickly white. "Not much to tell. She's just some girl I dreamt of when I was in another world," I say.

"Is she pretty?" Sarah asks, holding me lightly as Whisper trots on.

"I guess so. It's hard to compare with her blue skin," I say, not sure where this is going.

Sarah's arms tighten around me. "Blue skin? You mean like Solarkar?"

"Yeah. They must be the same species. They have the same green hair and slender frames. The only difference I saw was the eyes. I'm not sure if we can trust her, but like we talked about before, what choice do we have?" A sudden flash of inspiration strikes me. For me the idea is brilliant and ground breaking. For anyone else it would likely be common knowledge. "I think you're far prettier than she is, than anyone else really," I add, instantly feeling lame.

A long moment passes by and I am seriously doubting my previous conclusion that I was brilliant or even intelligent at this point. Perhaps I should just imitate a monkey for better responses. Suddenly, Sarah grips me tight, pressing hard into my back.

"Thank you," she says, kissing my ear. I feel myself redden and not from the suns.

"Ugh, I hope we leave here soon," my shadow says, having just returned from his scouting trip. "I don't think I can stomach much more of this."

"You don't have to be jealous," I mock. "You can have Whisper kiss you."

"I'd rather mate with a mole," Whisper replies with a snort.

"For once I'm in agreement with the rat," my shadow says haughtily. "To the east is a small rocky crevasse. It will have to do for the days needs." We turn in the suggested direction, the light from the suns nearly blinding us.

This goes on for three weeks, finding shelter by day and getting what food and water we can. It's never enough. Gradually we see the first real signs of planet life. It's a greenish-yellow grass so tough that it could even resist the sun. At the end of the fourth week the blasted blue sand desert finally ends. Just as the mysterious girl had promised there is a graveyard. A private fear I have is that we will miss it. After all, a graveyard is usually small, even if large animals go there to die. Such a place could easily be missed when crossing a vast desert. This, however, is no ordinary graveyard. The girl called it the graveyard of the first creations. What she had failed to tell me is that the first creations were Dragons.

### Chapter 16 – The Dragon's Graveyard

_Dragons, what else could they be?_ Winged skeletons so large that their heads are as big as Whisper lay resting in various positions throughout a deep depression that stretches as far as I can see. I've heard myths of elephant graveyards in my own world. Supposedly, elephants gather there to die. In this world it actually appears to be true, but with dragons. All three of us just stand there on a plateau, gazing in wonder at the massive ocean of bones. We are so transfixed by the sight that we fail to do the obvious thing and look up. We do so after the blast of fire and a bellowing challenge thunders in the air.

"More vermin coming to feast on our honored dead? This shall not be tolerated!" Fire erupts all around us, effectively blocking all avenues of escape except the spot where a towering form lands with the force of a meteor impact. The entire area around us trembles like a magnitude seven earthquake and it's all we can do to keep our feet. Before us is a dragon. Incredibly massive with rich black-green scales that shimmer in the early morning light, it stands, glaring at us with golden eyes with a silt in the center. Its wings cover the horizon like an umbrella, casting us in a green shadow. Its head and body are the same as fantasy dragons I had enjoyed in my youth. With narrow heads, big mouths and long necks connected to thick bodies on four short legs. It isn't so much fun now. Sarah sums it up quite nicely for me.

"Holy shit!" Sarah says, grabbing tightly onto Whisper. Whisper isn't doing any better, crouching low, ready to sprint at the slightest provocation. He hisses at the dragon which is the equivalent of a cat hissing at a very large dog.

The dragon cocks its head at Whisper then to me and finally to Sarah. "It speaks. Or does it cry out nonsense?" The dragon says in a voice like a landslide. It doesn't seem to be addressing us. I think the dragon doesn't really consider us intelligent enough to understand.

"I never say nonsense, dragon," Whisper says, his voice a fearless snarl.

"We come in peace," I yell, the first nonthreatening thing that comes to mind while waving my hands frantically. It feels lame saying the old cliché, but the situation drives all other conversation starters from my mind.

"They all speak and understand," the dragon muses, looking at us more closely but never blinking. "Why have you come here if not to pillage my ancestor's bones and to feast on the flesh of our recently departed?"

"We are lost and are trapped here in Inti. We only seek shelter and a way home," I say, squirming under that unflinching gaze.

"Home? This world is not your home? Did the Kiraten bring you here?" The dragon asks, much of its anger gone.

"We are of clan Shifter and came here of our own accord," Whisper says not backing down, watching the dragon carefully. "We were told to come here and wait for the Kiraten."

"Told by whom?" The inquisitive dragon asks.

"What do you want with us?" I counter.

"Avoiding the question," the dragon muses. "Very wise not to offer too much without something in return. As for what I want, that is simple. My task is to protect our fallen and devour anything that would defile this place. Do you intend to feast on our fallen?"

"No, of course not," I say. At that moment the suns crest the horizon, assaulting us with intense heat. Reflexively I raise my hand, shielding my face.

Chuckling the dragon says, "Don't enjoy the warmth? There is a small cavern to the east. There you may rest from the rising twins. We can continue our conversation later." Gesturing with its head, the dragon pointed to a dark spot down in the graveyard inside the rock face of the plateau.

"Is there food?" Whisper asks. The trip has been rough on him and he has already lost a lot of weight.

"No. But small scavengers reside there hiding from me. Eradicate them and feast on their flesh to fill your hunger. This will please me and resolve your issues as well."

"Thank you," I say, my stomach rumbling. "I'm Jerry and behind me is Sarah. This," I say patting his side, "Is Whisper. We are grateful for the help."

"Clear out the vermin and no debt will occur," the dragon says, fluttering his wings. It's like standing before a tornado. The force of the wind snuffs the fire around us as we huddle down. "There is a path down a short distance away. I go to bask in the twin suns." With that the dragon is gone, leaving scorched and trampled earth behind.

"That was a dragon," Sarah says distantly, watching the dragon soar off in the direction of the suns.

"How incredibly perceptive you are," my shadow says nastily from a rock crevice just behind us.

"Cowering in a rock?" Whisper sneers.

"What was your plan? Scratching his kneecaps perhaps?" my shadow counters.

"I can battle any foe!" Whisper exclaims.

My shadow becomes a dark, humanoid shade a short distance away. "The only reason I was remaining hidden was that Jerry asked me to not be seen. I would assume this applies to talking flying alligators as well."

"It doesn't matter," I say, exhausted and thirsty. "Let's check out this cave."

Whisper takes off at a fast pace and I watch the graveyard as he bounds forward. It seems endless. _Just how long has it been here?_ The skeletons are all in good condition which surprises me. The sun should have cooked them long ago making them brittle. A sudden lurch in my stomach like I am falling and Whisper descends down a smooth ramp to the plateau bottom. The bones are even more formidable up close. Their empty eye sockets appear to be tracking us as we speed by. Staying in the shade of the cliff wall we find a small opening on our left. The dragon had called it small but it's only small to a dragon. For us it's plenty big even for Whisper. Sticking to our usual routine my shadow goes in first, returning a few minutes later.

"Interesting," my shadow says, becoming his standard dark silhouette. "Nothing so dangerous that the rat can't handle, but it is curious."

"What is?" I say.

"Well, unless I'm mistaken, there are dinosaurs in there. Small ones about the size of a bear but they look like dinosaurs." I look at his silhouette, trying to figure out if he is joking or not.

"Bullshit. How can that be true?" Sarah says.

"No bullshit, idiot woman. They look like they do in the books Jerry reads at the library. Claws, scaly, stands on two legs, reptilian, does an awkward bird walk. It looks like a damn dinosaur."

"But dinosaurs are extinct!" I say, stating the obvious. My shadow just shrugs.

"They will soon be again," Whisper says. Knowing a hint when I hear it, Sarah and I get off his back. As soon as we are off he bounds into the darkness, leaving us alone with the dead dragons.

"Dragons and dinosaurs," Sarah says in wonder. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," I say. "It makes no sense why these familiar creatures, both mythological and real should exist in this world at all. Hell, there are three entirely separate worlds separating our world and this one. I've never seen anything on those worlds that fits our world's history. So why are we finding these things here?" I shake my head. It makes no sense at all.

Sarah and I look at the bones as the rapidly decreasing shadow from the cliff wall moves closer to the cave's mouth. We do our best not to breathe too deeply. After over three weeks with no bathing we both have some juicy odors going. At one point Whisper referred to us as his very smelly luggage. I couldn't argue. Water has been too scarce to use for anything other than drinking. Suddenly, Whisper pokes his head around from the cave's mouth.

"Shifter, dinner is ready," the crimson fur around Whisper's mouth indicates he had already partaken. Getting to our feet, Sarah and I enter the cave. It is blessedly cool. Compared to the hot, dry weeks we had getting here it is beyond wonderful. Even more welcoming is the gurgling of running water echoing from deeper in the cave. I would drool if I could. Going farther into the cave we find a paleontologist's wet dream turned nightmare. Dinosaurs but all of them recently dead. Would they be happy or sad by it? Ignoring my future dinner I go in search of the stream. It's a small stream from which Whisper is already drinking heavily before turning on the nearest dinosaur, gnawing on its entire head. Kneeling down, Sarah and I drink long and deep, the first time in over a week. This last week has been the worst, barely holding off dehydration.

After we drink our fill I kneel next to the nearest dinosaur. A Velociraptor if I'm not mistaken. In my youth I had often stayed long hours at the library when I wasn't in the mental institution. Reading on any subject I could get my hands on. Being a social outcast and unable to watch television left only books as my escape from the prison that had been my life. One of my favorite subjects was monsters of any type, this included dinosaurs. I was always seeking some kind of confirmation that what I saw daily was real. How did this dinosaur exist both here and at one time in my world? I guess it doesn't matter for my stomach has already decided my priorities. There are over a dozen dead raptors here, so with my sword I saw off two hind legs. They are surprisingly heavy. With Sarah's help I move them into the soon-to-be sun-lit ground.

"You needn't show me proof," a voice says just as we near the cave's exit. "Your word would have been sufficient." Dropping our meal I back-pedal, tripping over Sarah and bringing both of us down in a tumble. The dragon is back, its body resting in the sun while its head is still in the shade, peering into the cave at us.

"We were just bringing them out here to be cooked by the suns, ummm..." I pause, not sure how to address the dragon. "Do you have a name?"

"I am called Zinneth," the dragon says. I think he is grinning as we get back to our feet. "You are strange creatures and bear resemblance to the Kiraten. What are you?"

"Human," Sarah says and I remain silent. I'm not sure what I am.

"Human," Zinneth muses, his gold-rimmed eye unblinking as he watches us set the meat out in the sun. "I've never heard of your kind before. Something new one of the ancient ones created, or are you of natural origins?"

Confused I just shake my head. "Hmmm," Zinneth hums. "Which world do you to you belong too?"

"It's hard to say," I say. "To me it always feels like the top while this is the bottom." Another question occurs to me. "What do you mean by ancient ones?"

"Such discussions are better left to the Kiraten when they arrive," Zinneth says. "They spend much time studying such. I'm not all that interested in such topics."

"Can I touch you?" Sarah says suddenly. Looking at her in surprise, I wonder if she had just given a huge offense. Zinneth doesn't appear offended, if anything he looks amused.

"If you desire," Zinneth answers. Hesitantly, Sarah inches forward, cautiously touching the scales of Zinneth's head. She immediately withdraws her hand only to place it back on a second later.

"You're hot," Sarah says.

"It is said by all in this world that fire flows through the first creation's veins," Zinneth says.

"I was told this is the graveyard of the first creation. What does that mean?" I ask.

"This is the place where my kind come to die. Any that fall unexpectedly are brought here so their bones my join our ancestors until the worlds collide."

"Yes, but what does the first creations mean?" I ask again.

"This I shall tell you, for it is also said that the first creation's love their own tales most of all. I have been bored during my post here. Once this next millennium is over I'll have time off before my next round of duty," Zinneth says. _A millennium... he has been here a millennium!_ This boggles my mind and from her slack-jawed expression Sarah is the same, but before I can ask about it, Zinneth tells the tale of the first creation.

"In the beginning, the five ancient ones found a lush living world of violent magnificence. The world was primitive lacking any sophisticated life and perfect for shaping. Thrilled by their discovery the five came together for the first and only time to create beings far superior to all others that existed. They created dragons. Into these being the ancient ones gave their greatest strengths. Dragons have the wisdom of Palentor, the hunger of Melephos, the wroth of Valerdon, the corruption of Shalarom, and the wild harmony of Belaroth. The ancient ones looked upon their creation with wonder, for never had such a being existed before. Yet none were satisfied. Each claimed that their contribution was greater than the others. Thus, they fought over us. Who shall have dominion over these wonderful creations? Of course, none shall. For we embody the aspects of every ancient one and would kneel to none. The ancient ones grew angry at their first and finest creations and then at each other. Wars broke out between the divided factions. Melephos and Shalarom fought against Palentor and Valerdon. Belaroth took no sides seeking only to maintain balance and preserve life. Many died and mass extinction of the life that was already present on this world was rampant. Seeing the eventual destruction of everything Belaroth proposed a solution. The ancient ones would divide the world into five separate planes. Each would have free rein to create anything they saw fit in their respective worlds, thus peace was restored. But what was to be done with the life that already existed and the dragons? After much debate the dragons, being the finest creation ever, would stay with the life they had come to expect. For dragons are vastly powerful and could easily dominate most life that any of the ancients could create on their own. Valerdon took the dragons and all the large violent life that already existed into his own world. There they shall remain until the worlds collide. That is this world known as Inti."

The dragon looks smug at our expressions but Zinneth has no clue what he just unveiled. Suddenly a lot makes sense. The dinosaurs here, the five different worlds, and Solarkar, the disciple of Melephos it all makes sense to a degree. Dinosaurs never went extinct, but most were moved to this world!

"How did the worlds separate and how did the ancient ones get here?" I ask.

"I do not know. Ask the Kiraten, they might," Zinneth says dismissively. Now that his tale is done he rolls over onto his back. I wondering what he is doing when a tremendous heat wave hits me. The shadows all around are nearly gone and the suns near their zenith. With as much dignity as we could muster we retreat inside the cave. Whisper is farther inside, looking out at the sun bathing dragon.

"Interesting conversation?" Whisper asks as we draw near.

"You have no idea," Sarah says, sitting on the cave floor. I join her, leaning against Whisper and yawning.

"I'll tell you all about it after some rest," I say. Whisper too stretches out, setting his large white head atop his front paws. I think that with all the information that Zinneth gave us my mind would wander but my exhaustion quickly takes hold and I fall fast asleep.

It feels like I could sleep for days if it weren't for my empty stomach. I only get four hours of sleep before I become a caveman.

"Damn, this is good!" I say, tearing off another piece of dinosaur leg. Immediately after waking up I had collected our fully cooked meal. I feel so manly. Here I am sitting in a cave with a haunch of dinosaur leg, taking big bites out of it. Can there be anything more uplifting than that? "Tastes like chicken," Sarah adds taking another bite out of her own dinosaur leg.

"I still prefer the raw ones," Whisper says starting on the last Velociraptor .

"You think there are more here?" Sarah asks.

"Yes, these pests plague our dead." Zinneth says, landing nearby in the twilight of the setting suns. The ground shakes and dust blows everywhere. "They are small and nimble, hard for me to hunt. The Kiraten clean them out when they arrive to pay homage to our dead. But they always return within another cycle."

"How often do the Kiraten come here?" I ask, wondering how long we will have to wait.

"Thrice a year during the season peaks," Zinneth says. "They are due here soon. Your timing is very fortunate."

"Do they have any supplies here like clothes and weapons?" Sarah asks, looking at her own clothes which are now mostly rags.

"Indeed, they might," Zinneth says and then, giving a big sniff in our direction adds, "The Kiraten have supplies on the south cliff face near some natural hot water springs."

Sarah's eyes light up and I am afraid she might go sprinting off into the dark in search of these hot springs. Zinneth chuckles and says. "It is far from here, a week of travel for your kind," I sigh. I'm really getting sick of traveling. "I can take you there tonight if you clean out that area of pests as well." That gets my attention. _Holy shit, I am going to ride a dragon!_

Whisper looks doubtfully at the dragon. "Can you take me as well?"

"Yes, I often eat rodents of your size. Carrying you shall not be difficult," Zinneth says confidently. Off to my right I hear a slight, dark chuckle from my shadow.

"I am no rodent!" Whisper proclaims in a hissing voice. "I am a ferret!"

"Ferrets are not a type of rodent?" The dragon asks in all seriousness and Whisper just blinks at him.

Finishing my dinosaur meal I stand up. "Thanks, Zinneth, for your kindness is most generous. Please take us to the Kiraten shelter. We'll gladly take care of your pest problem."

"This is going to be awesome!" Sarah says, with as much excitement as I feel.

Thirty minutes later I am flying on a dragon high above the ground with Whisper gently nestled in Zinneth's talons below and Sarah and I holding onto his legs tightly. At first we had tried to sit on his back, but the heat he radiated became almost scalding after a short while. So instead we are next to Whisper, watching the darkening landscape drift by below.

"This is awesome!" Sarah whoops for what seems like the hundredth time as Zinneth banks hard to the left. Whisper's eyes are closed in pleasure, his face thrust forward just like he had done in the human world in Sarah's car. I don't like heights and just hold on tightly, counting the seconds until we land.

My count was at about ten thousand when Zinneth abruptly dives down. With the feeling of riding a roller coaster in the dark I keep excepting the ground to appear an inch from my nose. I can't see anything. Zinneth must have some type of expanded vision for as he draws near the ground he spits a jet of flame. The black sky is suddenly illuminated as fire coats the ground, sending small figures running. At first I think they are rats but as we draw nearer to the ground I realize they are more Velociraptors. _Just how high were we?_ On second thought I'd rather not know. Before us is the freshest part of the graveyard, several of the dead dragons still having dried flesh on them. With a bellowing challenge Zinneth swoops low to the ground, spewing more fire at the fleeing figures, charring several instantly. I do like my dinosaur well done. After a second pass they are all gone, having taken shelter in various caves along the tall cliff walls. With a flutter of wings Zinneth lands and we disembark. Sarah's sun-scorched white hair is swept back, a look of absolute thrill on her face. Whisper too looks like he's going to ask for a second round. I collapse to my knees, silently saying ' _I will not be sick. I will not be sick. I will not be sick._ ' Three seconds later I am bending over, losing my tasty dinosaur lunch.

"Poor baby, shall I ask the woman to change your diaper?" My shadow says.

Startled I look at Zinneth, seeing if he heard my shadow. "No, stupid, I'm hiding in your ear. I'm bored not talking with anyone." I immediately stick my finger in my ears, scrapping away like I had a bad buildup of wax.

"Stop that, asshole! You can't expel me that way. I'm not doing any harm." I stop, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Sorry about that," I say. "You just surprised me."

"What?" Sarah asks, coming over and peering into my face. I just shake my head, admiring her beautiful face and enjoying the feeling of her hand on my shoulder.

"Nothing," I say.

"Oh, I'm far from nothing. One day I shall show you," my shadow says. I feel my spine stiffen and a wave of foreboding tremble through me.

Ignoring my shadow which is second nature to me, I stand up straight, taking in my surroundings. Whisper and Zinneth are splitting the roasted dinosaurs while discussing the great battles each of them had fought in. Zinneth seems rather impressed at Whisper's description of the canine golem he fought when we took on Solarkar.

"A worthy battle," Zinneth says, inclining his head to Whisper. "However, I have you beat my friend. Here, plaguing this resting ground, is a creature that has no name that burrows deep underground trying to feed on our dead. I have tried many times to kill the foul worm but thus far it has escaped me."

I leave them to their discussion when Sarah points out the hot pools. In craters the size of a hot tubs are standing pools of water that steam in the cool night air. The sight of clean hot water brings my own filth to the front of my mind. It's hard to not strip and dive right in. I surely would have if Sarah hadn't been here. From her expression she is thinking the same thing.

"Zinneth, where are the supplies you mentioned?" I call over Whisper's and Zinneth's laughter at some battle exploit.

"What is the rush?" Zinneth calls back to me.

"They smell terrible," Whisper clarifies for him. "It has been a constant challenge for me to keep their odor from my fur while bearing them through the desert."

"That is a battle worthy of song, Whisper of clan Shifter," Zinneth says. "I feel that my legs smell from just their touch. Tell me, are all their kind so pungent?"

"Hey!" Sarah and I say in unison. They both give us a hearty chuckle.

"The cave is right over there," Zinneth says, gesturing with his head. I can't see anything in the low light but head that way, joined by Whisper in case it need any clearing out.

The cave is free of dinosaurs but some rather large rats with three eyes are nestled there. They are the size of cats and Whisper swallows several whole before the remainders flee into the night only to be met with a jet of fire. Inside the cave are comforts I thought impossible just days ago. Many rows of hammocks made of a soft spongy material line the wall, resting at waist height. Touching the nearest I leave a slight imprint which quickly returns to its original shape. Under the hammocks are strange crates lined up in neat rows. They have no hinges or nails but appear to be a single solid piece like it was grown not made. Fiddling with some handle of the nearest the top opens soundlessly on its own like a tree moving a branch out of the way of passing elves. It is weird. But all concern vanishes as I see the pile of clothes inside. Suddenly I can feel all the accumulated dirt on the rags I now wear. Whisper is right, the stench is bad. With a shout of glee Sarah tears through the pile like a black Friday shopper. I don't dare approach until she has chosen her garments along with a bar of soap which she tosses wordlessly to me. _Hint understood_. Fumbling, I barely avoid dropping the soap and look up just in time to see Sarah sprinting past me with fresh clothes and her own soap in the direction of the hot springs.

Now that the area is free of clothing obsessed females I can approach without being in mortal danger. Sarah has left quite a mess in her eagerness. My desire for neatness compels me to spend a few minutes returning everything to nice, orderly piles before selecting my own garments. The selection is rather limited. In the dark I can only discern two colors, a deep red and a bright, leafy green. The styles are all similar and it reminds me of a wet suit, made of a rather tough material with long leg and arm sleeves. Gathering up a red garment with soap in hand I head to the hot springs.

The area is thick with steam, like a blending of a sauna and a dense fog. I do my best to maintain my delusion of dignity and not run like Sarah had but really really want too. I guess that just makes her more honest with her desires than I am. Stumbling in the fog an alarmed voice suddenly calls out.

"Use that one there!" Comes Sarah's voice from a now visible sunken crater. I can only see her head just above the rim of the pool and she looks amazing. With the constant danger, dehydration and near starvation I almost forgot how attractive she is. Now her skin is all healthy and pink, her face flushed from the heat. Her hair is damp and plastered to her head like a fine silk shawl. I swallow hard and feels very warm all of a sudden, despite the crisp night air.

"Uh, ok," I say with my usual smoothness. Summoning a will power that could make a fifty year veteran Chinese monk jealous I wrench my gaze from Sarah, finding my own nearby pool. Feeling Sarah's eyes on me I quickly strip down, hoping the steam in the air would hide everything and jump in the pool. It is bliss. I feel instantly lighter as a week's worth of dirt dissolves away.

"What, no song and sexy dance?" My shadow mocks for my ears only. "You know she was watching you rather intently. In all fairness it was hard to miss with your pale skin. You have to be the only person able to spend weeks crossing the desert and not get a tan." Embarrassed, I sink beneath the water until his mocking laugh becomes unintelligible.

Hot water fills my nose and soaks my hair. Surfacing I take a deep breath, leaning against the side of the pit. Looking at my clothes I take the bar of soap from the top of the pile and examine it. It looks like soap but with a distinctive texture that I've never felt before. I hope it isn't made from animal fat but at this point I will use anything. I scrub everything from my weather-worn feet to my shoulder length copper hair.

"At least you smell better now, Shifter," Whisper purrs from behind me.

"I feel better also," I say stretching out. "It's like a hundred years worth of dirt and exhaustion has left me all at once."

"Truly? Shall you carry me for the rest of our journey then?" Whisper asks, cocking his head at me. Then quick as a snake he darts in his tongue hitting me like a wet blanket. He gives a ferret chortle as I topple over, splashing water everywhere.

"Is everything ok?" Sarah's voice says, coming up from behind Whisper. She is dressed in a luscious green tunic that emphasizes her cool blue eyes and pale hair along with her shapely face. Getting to my feet I see that her garment is similar in style to mine and looks like a diver's suit, showing off all her curves. Sarah suddenly reddens, turning her back to me she sprints off into the darkness. The reason for this strange behavior becomes apparent as I look down, realizing what I had inadvertently done.

"Bwhhahahaha!" Whisper's laughter rang out as I dive below public line of sight. Whisper finds this so funny that he rolls over onto his back his legs twitching in the air like a dreaming puppy his tail thumping up and down repeatedly. I wonder if drowning would be preferable to facing Sarah and Whisper...

It's a night of laughter and joy that I haven't felt since being stuck in Inti. Most of it is at my expense as Whisper reenacts my embarrassing accidental flashing to Zinneth. The dragon really doesn't understand the trouble but finds it amusing all the same. He keeps grumbling about overly complex mating rituals that send me and Sarah blushing. Going to sleep that night I keep playing over the day's events until the dream cmes.

It is the girl again but this time things are different. She isn't strolling causally through an open courtyard with a soft dress, safe and sound. Now she is barely clad in torn rags, strapped to a marvelously designed chair of the same design as the crates we found in the cave. It is beautiful and elegant and appears grown instead of constructed. It makes what is happening to her even crueler. Bound with thick, heavy straps her head is lowered with her leafy green hair covering her features. She isn't moving.

"I shall ask you again Shame of Valerdon, what has the corruption shown you." A tall, imposing figure says, looming above the girl. He has a casually cruel look about him, bearing a strong resemblance to Solarkar. He has the same leafy green hair like the girl but has my slit green pupil eyes. He's wearing a full body suit of armor composed of black scales that creak as he kneels before the girl.

"You can't fight against the Vassnier. We will compel you to obey. Or would you rather submit yourself to the five and receive their judgment? I doubt you will receive such leniency a second time." Reaching out the man roughly cups the girl's chin, bringing her face in line with his own. Bruises and cuts cover most of her face, the same blue blood that Solarkar has trickles from her mashed lips. "If it was up to me, Shame of Valerdon, I would cut off your head and mount it on the wall for all to see what happens when you break the divine rule." With practiced malice he backhands her with an alarmingly loud thwack. Her head whips backwards, sending a spray of blue blood arcing through the air before she falld limp again. She never cried out.

"Guards, persuade this filth to be more cooperative," the man says, wiping his gauntleted hands on a cloth pulled from a pouch at his side. Getting to his feet he takes several steps backwards as another figure I hadn't notice before approached. My eyes widen. There hadn't simply been two in here but closer to a dozen, all armed for dragon slaying. _Are all of them here for just this girl?_

The guard is even taller than the man, wearing a full suit of yellow armor that looks like snake skin. I can see nothing of his features as a form fitting helmet covers him entirely except two small holes under the nose and a small reflective lens over his eyes. All the other guards are similarly dressed save for the first man himself. A strange spear is held tightly in both hands like he's afraid the girl would leap forward and seize it from him. The shaft is a rich, deep black with glowing sigils of light carved along its length. The tip is a large, blunt crystal glowing with a bright light that pains even me though this is just a dream. With a jab, the guard thrusts the crystal against the girl's exposed flesh. A hissing sound, like water dropped in oil, erupts followed by the girl's screams of agony.

I forget that this is a dream. I forget I am insubstantial, little more than a memory or a weak ghost. I just know that there is no way in hell I am just going to watch. Moving with none of the sluggishness I felt the other times, I grab the spear shaft with both hands. The reaction is instantaneous. The sigils flared many times brighter along the shaft and I feel my hands burn under its touch but I don't care. With the force of a much larger man I break the spear in two, watching in satisfaction as the lights die. The guard yells out his surprise as the weapon breaks and then his horror as I fling the pieces aside. I feel powerful. I feel great. It's like everything in the world suddenly becomes my plaything and for a moment I can do anything. The fear of the men around me is intoxicating and I give a low, menacing chuckle just like my shadow always does.

"It's here! Do it now!" The man in the black scale armor cries out. All the crystal tipped spears flash at once, burning me like I have just been caught in the blast of a nuclear explosion. Light has become pain and I shrink before it. "There it is!" The man calls, though I can no longer look in that direction. "Capture it!"

_Capture it? Is he talking about me? This is just a dream, how could I be captured?_ Whether or not he truly could have I will never know for in that instant the girl acts.

Blackness erupts out of her like an oil rig explosion, damping the hated light. Now above the girl is a tall figure of darkness, much like my shadow. Stretching to the ceiling the dark figure takes up most of the room, the darkness rather substantial and thick. With a dark hand it bats aside the men like leaves in the wind. They go sprawling and the light is extinguished. The darkness, having spent itself seeps back into the girl going into her body through her eyes, ears, mouth and nose.

Raising her head she looks at me with puffy and swollen eyes. "Go, and don't come back. Find Morith. He can help you get home." With that said she collapses, lifeless and sagging in her restraints. The dream ends just as the black armor-clad man gets to his feet looking right at me.

It's early evening when I awaken and I am alone. Presumably Sarah and Whisper are outside the cave with Zinneth. I sit up in the hammock I had been using inside the Kiraten supply cave. My heart beats wildly, perspiration soaking my face. Surely that had to be a dream. There is no way that could be real.

"That was new," says the dark voice of my shadow. "Where those the dreams you were speaking of?"

"You saw that?" I say startled.

"Saw it?" He gives a low chuckle. "I was there with you this time. The girl's got spunk, I'll give her that, though her shadow is a rather weak thing. I would have taken the men entirely if we were entirely there. I would punish them for brandishing those nasty light sticks at me."

_The girl's shadow? Is that what I saw? A shadow like mine? Who is this girl?_ Getting to my feet I am about to go to Sarah when she runs into the cave flustered. Before I can give a replay of what I just saw she speaks.

"We've got the trouble. The Kiraten just arrived and you won't believe who they are!"

### Chapter 17 – The Kiraten

It's obvious now that I think about it. Perhaps it was the struggle to survive that didn't let me put the two together. Now I can't see how I didn't understand earlier. Talking with Zinneth is a group of five individuals just like Solarkar and the girl from my dreams. They are the Kiraten. Simultaneously hope and dread fill me. Were they all like Solarkar? Twisted beings, seeing all life as nothing more than expendable resources to fulfill their own desires. If they are not like him could they shift us home? Would they even if they could? I just don't know. Nearing the group I see Whisper, his hackles raised as he stands side by side with Zinneth who ignores the pissed ferret while chatting nonchalantly with the Kiraten. The Kiraten are more apprehensive, giving Whisper cautious looks.

"This is most unusual, Zinneth," says a Kiraten out in front of the rest. He's tall and willowy with a receding hairline that looked strange with his leafy green hair. Dressed for war he has a long spear in one hand a large round shield with sigils of light decorating the perimeter in the other. He doesn't wear armor but has on the same green, form-fitting suit that Sarah has on that looks nice with his blue skin. Unlike the others this one addresses Zinneth calmly, disregarding Whisper. I'm not sure if this makes him brave or idiotic. The remaining Kiraten are spread out behind him, all holding spears tightly. These are not the hivetung weapons I am familiar with. These make my own sword look like a toy. Elegant is too plain of a word to describe these weapons. It's as if they were forged from living steel, naturally grown rather than forged, each with a row of small sigils glowing down the center. They look dangerous. With Sarah by my side we quickly come up, supporting Whisper. Resting my hand on Whisper's head I feel him relax considerably. "Is this the human, Zinneth?" The Kiraten with the receding hairline says, fixing his gaze on me. He has the same green slit-pupil eyes I do.

"You will speak to my alpha with more respect." Whisper growls. The Kiraten raises a single eyebrow at Whisper.

"They are the off-worlders I spoke of. I vouch for their conduct," Zinneth says then, glancing at Whisper adds, "Provided you don't provoke them."

"I'm Jerry, and this is Sarah and Whisper," I say. "Who are you?"

"I am Tarith of house Thanous," Tarith says. "I speak for the Kiraten."

"Can you shift us home?" Sarah asks, getting right to the point.

Tarith narrows his eyes at her. "No."

"You can't or won't." I ask, my hopes fading.

"Can't," Tarith says. "Shifting is a rare ability. Only those of a prime house retain the talent."

"No, it isn't," Sarah says, glaring angrily at him. "Solarkar and all his flunkies can do it. You just don't want to help. You're making excuses."

An expression of absolute surprise fills Tarith's face at Solarkar's name, quickly followed by loathing. "The name of Solarkar is not spoken lightly, off-worlder. He and his followers are traitors of the highest order. There is a bounty high enough on their heads to purchase one of the five worlds."

His features soften slightly as he continues. "Solarkar and his fallen brethren were previously of a prime house, one of the five ruling families, until their attempted coup. As punishment they were stripped of the ability to shift and banished from all Kiraten lands. Only after their banishment were the depths of their true crimes discovered. We have been hunting them ever since. Tell me where are they so I may deal justice to them." He grips his spear tightly enough that the blue of the skin on his knuckles turns white and the sigils on the blade brighten slightly.

"He's in another world," I say.

"Impossible!" Tarith says.

"You messed up," Sarah says in righteous disgust. "Not only did you let that piece of trash go. You didn't take away anything. He can still shift. They all can."

Tarith blanches. "That can't be. The Razoh is inside them."

"What's the Razoh?" I ask, holding my stomach., thinking I already know.

"Specially bred parasites that deny one the ability to shift. They are used to punish those of the prime houses if they abuse their powers."

"So how did Solarkar get rid of it?" I ask hoping that I don't betray my eagerness.

"I thought it was impossible," Tarith admits, shaking his head. "Perhaps Melephos found a way to assist his disciple." Tarith says, his face darkening. "I fear his crimes might be even greater than we suspect."

_Crap_. I wonder if Solarkar had surgery done in my world. "Can you take us to someone who can shift us home?" I ask.

Tarith looks at me for a long moment. "Yes... You have given us valuable information on Solarkar's location and Zinneth vouches for your honor." He inclines his head to the dragon. "We will present you before the prime houses in the city of Babel. There they will be able to decide what to do."

"What if we don't like that plan?" I say. Babel... the famous fictional city? The idea of going to a whole city of beings like Solarkar and placing myself at their mercy is abhorrent.

Tarith shrugs indifferently. "Then you are free to go where you please. You are clearly from outside this world and would be captured immediately upon entering Kiraten lands. Your fate would be the same then except you would have none of the good will you correctly have. Or, you could stay here. Zinneth would enjoy the company."

"Indeed, I would," Zinneth adds. "Things get so boring here and I am fond of this Whisper. He is a true warrior." The dragon gives Whisper a wide grin which I find terrifying. Way too many teeth in that smile.

Whisper gives the dragon a toothy grin of his own, "I could imagine worse fates, my friend. We however, have our own home to guard and vengeance upon Solarkar to deliver. Our fates reside elsewhere."

"You've been great, Zinneth, really. But Whisper's right, we have to go." I say not really wanting to stay at all.

"Then you have but one choice," Tarith says. "You must accompany us to Babel."

"I guess we're stuck," Sarah says gloomily. "How long will it take us to get there?"

"At least one cycle," Tarith says.

"How many days is that?" Sarah says tiredly.

"Nearly ninety." Tarith replies.

"That long!" Sarah exclaims.

"Yes, our path is long and tiring. Once we return, a new group will disembark and begin the journey anew." Tarith says.

"You can leave immediately," Zinneth says. "They have already cleared out a nest of the vermin here and their quest needs no further delays. The purging can wait another cycle."

"As you wish, Zinneth," Tarith says, bowing deeply to the dragon. He straightens up, looking at the setting suns. "We should leave now then. The night has only just begun. May The Five look after you Zinneth."

Zinneth snorts a trickle of smoke escaping his nostrils. "How many times have I told you? Dragons don't need looking after."

Tarith simply bows again in acknowledgment before turning back to us. "I see you have helped yourself to our supplies here. That is well since the journey is long and perilous. Gather your belongings. We depart within the hour."

Turning his back to us Tarith shouts a bunch of commands which are accompanied by groans and complaints.

"Thanks, Zinneth, I'll miss you," Sarah says giving the dragon a pat on the knee. The highest point she can reach.

"I shall miss all of you as well," Zinneth says. "Take care on your journey. Try not to anger the Kiraten. They are fair but quick to anger and slow to forget. They are the creations of the Valerdon the vindicator, after all."

****

The night is nearly over and we have already covered dozens of miles. On the horizon the twin suns make their presence known with the first rays of light. The journey this night was long and hard with only one brief stop at a watering hole before moving on. When Tarith said it would take ninety days to get to Babel I had imagined a long, slow-moving caravan of wagons and lots of walking. I couldn't have been more wrong. The group of Kiraten we met is small, only twenty-five in total. Five for each of the five ancient ones or commonly referred to as The Five. Apparently the numbers five and twenty-five are holy and are supposed to invoke blessing from The Five. It doesn't matter. The smaller the group the faster we would go. Riding atop Whisper I got a nice view of the wilderness as the night passed. The moon was especially bright, illuminating both wonders and disturbing horrors. We were fortunate that we were with the Kiraten. They steered us clear of subtle dangers that would have surely meant our deaths.

"Are you sure?" Whisper asks again, panting slightly from the long run. "They have so many. Surely they don't need all of them."

"Yes, I'm sure," I reply.

The objects of Whisper's attention are the beasts of burden the Kiraten have. There are nearly forty of the beasts some serving as mounts while others as giant pack mules. A type of bird and dinosaur hybrid, they are the size of an SUV with large plumes of brilliant blue and red feathers covering their entire body. They have an awkward, ostrich stride with six strong legs that bend backwards with each step. A blunt looking beak the size of a man's torso filled with flat teeth is dead center on its head just below two large black eyes. It looks like someone took a bird's head, stuck it onto the body of a cow with no neck, added an extra pair of legs, expanded several times in size then said 'ah, screw it, I'm done.' It really looks like some half evolved creature. Their usefulness cannot be denied though. Each one has a large saddle for either a rider or supplies strapped to their back. The reason they weren't near Zinneth when we first met became apparent. As Whisper drew near they gave shrill cries, fluffing up their feathers. Instead of looking perturbed Whisper licked his lips, staring at the smaller animals and baring his very sharp teeth.

I hope the Kiraten don't need all of them to survive the journey. It had taken nearly an hour of coaxing before Whisper could draw near enough for us to start.

"Can I take a bite out of just one?" Whisper asks hopefully, his head bobbing in time with the feathery rump in front of him, bringing my focus back to the present.

"Do you prefer white or dark meat?" Sarah teases from just behind me.

"All, of course," Whisper says drawing nearer to his target.

"Whisper..." I say my tone a clear indication of my meaning.

"Fine," Whisper says in disappointment, drawing back a bit. Nevertheless his gaze lingers.

A sharp command from Tarith at the lead of our procession and the entire column turns sharply to the right. Whisper immediately follows, jostling Sarah who wraps her arms tightly around me. I feel warmth flush my face that quickly goes cold as I see the reason for the abrupt detour. A large, grassy mound is now on our right, as tall as a redwood and as wide as a small hill. We could have easily scaled it if it weren't for the fact that it is grinning at us. A huge mouth fills with triangle shaped teeth the size of car tires suddenly opens wid,e like the yawn of a god. With a sound of a whip crack a tongue shoots out impossibly fast. My concern is pointless as the Kiraten prove they know what they're doing. The tongue falls short of nabbing anyone. The smile becomes a frown as the creature tries again with no success. The frown melds back into the ground, leaving no trace behind. I feel Sarah shudder.

"Will you stop pulling on my fur so hard," Whisper complains. The fact that a hill had tried to eat him didn't bother him at all.

"Sorry," Sarah says sheepishly, looking at the now plain hill with well justified mistrust. "Too bad Zinneth couldn't fly us to Babel."

"His duty is at the graveyard. Honor will not let him leave his post," Whisper says.

Sarah gives a quick glance, ensuring everyone is out of ear shot. "So Jerry, do you want to talk about it?"

"About what?" I reply.

"You know damn well what," she snaps.

"I don't," I lie, fearing the time had finally come.

"Oh, come on," Sarah says in exasperation. "Do you take me for an idiot? These Kiraten can shift and see into other worlds just like you. Not to mention you have the same eyes as them. At first I thought it might be a coincidence that you have the same as Solarkar but all these Kiraten have your eyes. Your father was a Kiraten and, if what Tarith said is true, he was from one of the ruling prime houses."

Whisper misses a step, nearly tumbling. I clutch him tightly as he recovers, returning to his smooth, steady stride. Obviously Whisper hadn't put the connection together until now. It was dishonest of me to have kept this from him, from both of them. I just didn't want to face the truth. Struggling to find the correct words I watch the suns crest the horizon, wincing at the accompanying blast of heat.

"Solarkar hinted as much when I first met him at the warehouse," I finally say. "At first, I thought he was lying. But the more I thought about it the more truth I found in his words. Then it was the shame of being related to a monster many times worse than the horrors I've seen. Those are just animals hunting for food. It makes what Solarkar has done all the worse. Mostly, I just avoided thinking about it. If I didn't think about it then it wasn't real. It's a trick I've used many times."

"You should have told me," Whisper says, his purring voice reproachful. Shame fills me. Far more shame than any distant connection I had to Solarkar.

"I know. I'm sorry, Whisper. I just didn't want to face the truth."

"I forgive you, Shifter... as long as you let me eat one of these overgrown chickens," Whisper says. I laugh, feeling a burden lift from me that I hadn't even realized I was carrying. I feels as light as a feather.

"I forgive you too," Sarah says, giving my arm a hard punch.

"Ouch!"

"Don't be a baby," Sarah says. "So, what do you want to tell the Kiraten? They will probably ask how we got here. Besides, maybe we can find your father."

I think for a long moment. Finally, I shake my head. "Solarkar said no one would dare admit to being my father. I think its taboo or worse to father a child with another race. We shouldn't mention my parents or my shifting ability unless we have too."

"Lack of ability," Sarah corrects. "Perhaps they could help get rid of that bug in you."

"Tarith said it was impossible," Whisper adds panting in the hot suns.

"We can ask how Solarkar got rid of his. Once we get home I can get surgery if needed," I say.

"Or go to that all you can eat Mexican restaurant," Whisper says. "Remember last time we ate there, we..."

"Whisper!" I say, flushing as Sarah laughs. "We don't need that level of detail. For now, let's not mention shifting and Whisper, call me Jerry, not Shifter."

"Ok, Shift...err Jerry," Whisper says my name and it sounds odd coming from him.

The caravan travels two more hours, virtually cooking us in the ever-increasing intensity of the suns. We finally stop near a large lake and the beasts of burden rush forward drinking deeply. Whisper immediately joins them, making no comment about soggy chicken as he satisfies his thirst. Leaping from his back I ignore the heat, taking a pull on a water flask given to me earlier. Scanning the area around me I see tough, grassy fields some bushy plants but nothing that looks like shelter. Nervously I glance up at the suns. Not much time left to the zenith.

"We will camp here for the day," Tarith says approaching me and tossing Sarah some type of fruit. She catches it effortlessly.

"Here!" Sarah exclaims, sweat plastered to her face as she glances at the suns. "We'll be cooked for sure."

Tarith givse a chuckle and points to a large pavilion swiftly being raised. It's incredibly large with a thin, black material stretching between erect poles. Whatever the material is it appears to stop all light from penetrating it. Tarith stands next to me, handing me a second fruit. It's a soft white color with tiny nubs all over it. Each one has a single, fine hair protruding from the center of the nub. The surface is squishy like a plush ball, indenting when I press into it only to reform a second later. Looking at Tarith I see that he now had his own fruit taken from the pouch at his side. With a nod he takes a big bite. Clear juice trails from his mouth down to his chin. Sarah looks doubtfully at her own fruit then tentatively takes a small bite. Her eyes go wide and she quickly devours the whole thing.

"That was delicious!" She declares, looking hopefully at Tarith's pouch.

He chuckles. "There are many foods that will be served during our meal under the pavilion." Indeed, under the already raised structure the Kiraten and their mounts gather, laying out white cloths on the ground along with big baskets. Sarah needs no further encouragement, with sweat pooling on her chin she quickly scampers under the shade.

"She does not tolerate the temperature well," Tarith notes, giving me a critical look. "You handle it much better than she does."

"Yeah, I've always been like that," I say.

Tarith nods. "Yes, that is well. The climate here varies wildly. As such, we have learned to tolerate extreme conditions." I think about my own ability to ignore cold and heat.

"The scorched earth beyond the first creations graveyard is too extreme even for us. In our lands there are large bodies of water and constant volcanic activity that has thickened the air, keeping it cooler. The temperature will get more moderate the further south we travel."

Whisper, having finally had his fill of water comes to my side, panting in the hot air. "Can I have one of those chickens?" He asks hopefully. Tarith cocks his head in confusion.

"He's referring to your mounts," I say.

"No. The melgui or chickens as you call them are all necessary for our journey," Tarith says. Whisper looks crestfallen.

"We can give you some of their eggs if you desire. We ride egg laying females so we may harvest them as we travel and collect their milk," Tarith says, walking toward the pavilion. I strode next to him with Whisper between us.

"Scrambled eggs?" Whisper asks his remarkably blue eyes shining with pleasure. Again Tarith looks confused so I give him a brief description.

"Yes, we can do that. We don't have enough to fill one as large as you but you can hunt or fish after the sun wanes."

As soon as I step under the pavilion the unending heat is gone and I feel comfortable for the first time since I got to Inti. Walking to the edge I touch the black material. Not only does it block out all light it is actually cool to the touch. _Amazing._ Under the pavilion is like being in a fully air conditioned room.

"Jerry, come on let's eat," Sarah says, patting a spot next to her on a white cloth. Contrary to what she had just said she is already eating a strange violet, blue leafy, plant. Whisper and I join her in a large circle of Kiraten. In the center is a rock with a large, dim sigil of light on it. Tarith strides forward, briefly touching the sigil on its surface and the rock begins glowing turning a hot orange. Two more Kiraten come forward with a large basket holding a dozen basketball sized eggs, followed by a third with a big metallic bowl. Whisper's ears prick up as the eggs are cracked open and they begin making the world's biggest scrambled eggs. We sit in comfortable silence as the Kiraten work.

With eggs done the Kiraten place the entire massive bowl in front of Whisper. Whisper's eyes seem to flash in pleasure at the heap of eggs before him. He doesn't wolf them down like I expect but eats slowly, savoring each bite. The cooks, having finished, join everyone in a large circle after touching the sigil in the rock. Immediately the heat from the rock is extinguished. I feel like we are at camp and at any moment will burst into a kumbaya sing-along.

"We gather at this place before, The Five with new companions," Tarith says formally standing in the center of the ring. Whisper ignores everything but his food while everyone else listens intently. "The urgency of this trip has not allowed for proper introductions and explanations. I will now remedy this."

Taking a deep breath he continues his face hard. "These off-worlders have news of Solarkar," Tarith says gesturing to us. A gasp rises from all those around and many wear expressions of loathing on their delicate features. In the light of the sun I get a good look at all them. Both male and female have that signature green hair and green slit pupil eyes. "Such was the importance of their information that we are returning directly to Babel. Please, off-worlder's stand and tell all your names and houses."

Sarah and Whisper looks at me, and with a nod we all get to our feet. "My name is Jerry of house Price," I says the words feeling strange in my mouth.

"I am Whisper of clan... Price," Whisper says, glancing back at his eggs.

"I am Sarah of house Clifford," Sarah says then adds with a mischievous grin. "Although from time to time I've been known to reside in house Bullshit." I suppress a snort, remembering her tale of how Solarkar thought that was her house name. No one besides me gets the joke.

"I greet you all," Tarith says, bowing to us as we sit down. "Let me introduce those around you. Each one is from my house Thanous." First to rise is a woman. The first female Kiraten I've seen up close. She's taller than Tarith and surprisingly well muscled. Unlike the others she is dressed for war in black scale armor. Each scale isthe size of a playing card and overlaps flawlessly with one another.

"Dragon scales," Whisper says very quietly, sniffing the air before directing his attention back to his eggs.

"This is Solice. She is the captain of my house guard," Tarith says.

"I greet you off-worlders," Solice says, her voice exceptionally plain contrary to her physical appearance. Her face is expressionless as she coldly appraises us. "I protect my house on this long journey. Tarith assures me that your intentions are true and that your information is critical. Listen and obey our instructions and you will arrive in Babel in peace. Do not obey or betray us in any fashion and you will arrive in chains." With that she sits back down in the circle, giving us a defiant look. Whisper growls slightly at her. To her credit she doesn't flinch or even acknowledge it. Redirecting the meeting with the practiced ease of a politician Tarith goes to the next one in the circle. Tarith continues around, introducing each one by name. Most names are too alien, slipping from my mind after I hear them.

After introductions are done Tarith turns back to us. "Please, off-worlders, tell us everything you know of Solarkar and how you came to be in Inti," Tarith says, sitting back down and looking expectantly at us. Sarah and Whisper turn toward, me waiting for my response. I close my eyes for a moment, thinking.

At last I stand, facing the group feeling nervous. "Thank you Tarith, for your warm welcome. I will gladly tell you much but some things are private and I must keep to myself until the time is right." With that I begin. I tell of the drug vision and of the men and hivetung who came after me. I go on to a generalized description of Sarah's rescue and of Solarkar's stronghold in Whisper's world. I tell of the Bartendor's attack and Solarkar's survival right up to the point where we got stuck in Inti. Through it all I avoid any mention of Shifting, my shadow, or the bug now residing in me. I speak for a very long time and the suns are already well past their zenith when I finish. Whisper yawns, stretching out and resting his head on his forepaws. A minute later he is fast asleep.

"A grand tale," Tarith says as I sit back down. "But you have not told us all. Does your kind have some means to travel between the worlds?"

"I can't answer that at this time," I say to a murmuring of the group. "What is important is that I'll help in any way I can to stop Solarkar."

They don't look happy but let the matter drop for now. "Very well, Jerry of house Price," Tarith says. "It is plain to me you are a foe to Solarkar and wish only to return to your home. I will let the prime houses decide the matter. Do you have any questions that I may answer?"

My heart thuds loudly. So many questions. Where to begin? "I'm not even sure where to start," I say honestly. "Forgive me if my thoughts jump around." Looking down I see the now dimly glowing sigil on the surface of the stone. "What are those sigils? How are they used? Solarkar had a whole suit of armor with those on it." _Not to mention the sigil stones stopping me from shifting._

Tarith looks to where I am pointing. He nods. "I will answer this. We call them Advro Lingua. Your name for them 'Sigil' is close enough to be understood. They are powerful pieces of a rare metal, woven into certain shapes to perform a function." Pointing to the stone in the center he adds, "This is the symbol for heat. Once a sigil is charged then one has to just press the symbol for it to activate. The armor Solarkar has is an ancient family relic that he took with him when he was banished. Those are sigils for repulsion, creating a powerful defensive item."

"How do you charge them?" Sarah asks.

"Simply by intensely heating the sigil. The sigil directly converts heat into stored energy ." Tarith says.

"How is it made?" I ask.

Tarith shakes his head. "I will not answer that. Such secrets are not given lightly." I nod, expecting no more.

"How many worlds are there?" Sarah says. I already knew the answer, having seen them all my life but the question would help reinforce the idea that I couldn't shift.

"There are five worlds," Tarith says. "Formoria, Sheol, Elysium, Pandedonium, and Inti. Each one a dominion of an ancient one. There are scrolls in Babel showing the history of our people and that of the five worlds."

I move on to the big issue. "Tell me about Melephos and Solarkar. Who are they? What do they want in our world with vision?"

Tarith looks uncomfortable, as if a superstitious person was talking about the devil and zombies while in a graveyard. "Melephos is one of the Five ancient ones. His domain is the world of Sheol. A decimated place, for Melephos has consumed most life that resides there. That is why Melephos is known as the Devourer. Even as he creates he consumes with an unending desire for more. Solarkar is of Primehouse Vanguise, one of the oldest houses. The bastard son of a lesser branch of the family, he quickly gain power through his prodigious shifting talent. His talent was only rivaled by his ambition. Many years ago a series of unexpected deaths created a power void in the council. We now believe this was Solarkar's work. There are twenty-five council seats with five from each house. All five members of Primehouse Vanguise died suddenly, in explicit ways. Chaos erupted in their house on who would replace them. Solarkar and his supporters were still juniors then and attempted to wrest control from his family members."

"You mean he killed his own family?" Sarah asks horrified.

"Yes," Tarith says. "Each Primehouse is vastly large, spanning many generations and branching into several families. Fights for succession are not uncommon. What was uncommon was the brutality Solarkar used and his willingness to do anything for power. To prevent the Primeshouse from tearing itself apart and the rift potentially spreading to the rest, the decision was left to Valerdon."

"Who's Valerdon?" I ask, remembering the name the man called the girl from my dreams. ' _Shame of Valerdon_.'

Tarith looks startled at the question. He quickly composes himself. "I forget you are not from this world. Valerdon is the ancient one who rules Inti. We Kiraten are his creation, made in his image."

"What did he make your from dust or something?" Sarah asks looking skeptical.

"Nothing so grand," Tarith says. "The ancient ones shape the life around them, adapting them beyond natural changes. When the worlds were divided many species where split and went to all five worlds. We likely share a distant ancestry with your kind. In our separate worlds we changed according to nature and at the will of the ancient ones." He clears his throat before returning to the original question.

"Solarkar was found unworthy by Valerdon to rule his Primehouse and another was chosen instead. We had foolishly thought the matter closed. No one violates Valerdon's will. Yet Solarkar did just that. We surmise that is when he reached out to Melephos. If we had thought the string of deaths that happened before was significant we were thrown into utter disarray by what happened next. People disappeared in mass usually without a trace. Solarkar grew in power and influence. It was only a matter of time before he would rule the Kiraten as a whole. Valerdon seeing Solarkar rise despite his command became wroth. Under his command all the Kiraten arose together, exiling Solarkar with his most radical followers. Only once Solarkar was gone did we fine out the truth. Solarkar has been using servants of Melephos to spy and remove his rivals. He was also kidnapping from the lesser houses, giving them to Melephos himself."

"Tell me about these servants," I say, thinking of the hivetung.

"They are beings are strange to us. We called them the Absconditus or the Hidden. Melephos has consumed most of the life in his world but there are still some loyal to him who are adept at hiding. These servants came to Babel living in the walls themselves. Large faces would suddenly appear, devourering unsuspecting victims. They can even shift to a limited degree, making tracking them down nearly impossible. We spent months hunting the remainder down and cleansing our city of their presence. Only then did we know the depths of Solarkar's betrayal."

An image of the face that ate my neighbor forms in my head along with another, Brick. He's a being created by Melephos. Is he spying on me, only pretending to be my friend? It didn't seem possible. Surely Brick wouldn't do such a thing... would he?

"You have given us much to think about," I say and Sarah nods her agreement.

"As you have given us," Tarith says. Glancing at the ground outside the pavilion he adds, "We should rest. Once the suns wane enough we shall continue our journey after your large friend has a chance to hunt." As one the Kiraten rise, giving us thin blankets and some strange lumpy pillows. Whisper reluctantly gets up, yawning widely as we go to a section of the pavilion set aside for us.

"What do you think?" I ask once we are out of earshot. A glance tells me the Kiraten are discussing the same thing.

"It's bullshit," Sarah declares. "If what they said is true then there is one of these ancient ones or gods would be on our world." Sarah casually tosses her pillow down and follows quickly behind. More reserved I sit mine down neatly next to hers. Whisper positions himself between us and the Kiraten. The act shows what he thinks.

"Don't trust them?" I ask.

"Trust must be earned," Whisper says, keeping his head directed at the Kiraten.

"I don't know what to make of all this," I say, sitting down. "Some of it could be superstition but both Zinneth and the Kiraten think it's real. Solarkar certainly thinks it's true."

"Ah, come on Jerry," Sarah says, rolling her eyes. "I've never seen or heard of anything like that in our world."

I shrug. "They are right about the five worlds and are convinced about the Five."

"About those five worlds, did you recognize the names?" Sarah asks.

"Well, I recognized Pandedonium," I offer.

"That's what happens when I go hunting," Whisper says.

Sarah lets out a small chuckle. "I don't doubt it. But I was referring to something else. In the past, before I joined the police force, I majored in cultural studies."

"Really? How were the job prospects?" I ask.Sarah gives me a chagrined smile. "About what you'd expect, ranging from zero to McDonald's employee. My brother talked some sense into me before I had to speak the most dreadful sentence in all human history. 'Would you like fries with that?'"

"At least you would get food." Whisper says. "I like chicken nuggets."

"Anyways," Sarah continues. "The worlds Formoria, Sheol, Elysium, Pandedonium, Inti are all from various mythos in our history. I knew the name Inti was familiar I just couldn't place it until now. Inti was an Incan sun god. Jerry, they are shifters, at least some of them are. They simply came to our world and took some myths as their own in the past. That's all."

"Maybe. I can't help but feel that there is more too it." Biting on my lip I add, "Maybe there is something that normal people can't see."

"That's crazy seeing something that no one else can," Sarah says, then immediately looks ashamed.

"I get that a lot," I say bitterly, laying down not facing her.

"Jerry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that," Sarah says, her voice soft and vulnerable.

"I know," I say not unkindly. "Let's go to sleep."

****

The days become weeks as we travel by night, resting as the suns peak. The Kiraten's attitude toward us is mostly hospitable as we make all possible haste toward Babel. However, a few have an underlying bigotry toward us that has me baffled at first. One calls us 'trash of Palentor' and spits at our feet. Whisper nearly tears his head off. My shadow, being bored and frustrated at the constant hiding, subtly attacks his mount as he rides, sending the rider flying. The melgui is crippled and the Kiraten reluctantly give it to Whisper. Whisper informs me later that it did taste like KFC. The mysterious accident was seen as a sign from the Five that we were not to be trusted and they keep their distance from that point forward.

Meals are a stressed affair and only Tarith seems unperturbed. Tarith informs us that our world is Fomoria the domain of Palentor. He also tells us that many Kiraten hold those of other ancient ones in less regard. The Kiraten hold especially Palentor in contempt, viewing him as the weakest of the ancient ones. Apparently during the war of the dragons Palentor relied heavily on Valerdon in their struggle against Melephos and Shalarom. I can't help but feel our ancient one is the nerd of the group. Smart but lacking the prowess of the others. I think intelligence is a far greater strength than shear power. Try telling that to a proud, strong race like the Kiraten.

After four weeks of harsh travel the intense heat of the day recedes far enough so that we travel all day and rest by night. Overhead thick, teal clouds smother the sky, obscuring the suns and tempering the climate. Not only does the temperature get more moderate but so does the landscape. No longer are there carnivorous hills or giant predator's best left to the imagination. Instead the land becomes relatively civilized as we enter Kiraten territory. It could almost have been Earth except for the numerous active volcanoes and extremely deep trenches dug as barriers to protect tilled fields. We travel swiftly, now on compact dirt roads passing small, poorly constructed buildings at either side.

Late one day Tarith says we will stay at an Inn, for the first major Kiraten village is nearby. Sarah's face lights up like a fireworks display at the prospect of a soft bed and, more importantly, a bath. I feel a churning in my stomach. _What welcome will we receive?_

We reach the village a few hours before dusk. I'm not sure what I expect, maybe hovels of straw and workers toiling in fields. I am unprepared for the level of sophistication I see. In many ways it reminds me of my own world if biology took the place of technology. Sarah and I gape like country rednecks seeing a major metropolis for the first time. Creatures of all sizes and shapes wandered about each perfectly designed for the task they are doing.

Buildings grown from the very soil lay about in sectioned off patterns, much like crop growers on our world leaving space between fruit trees. Composed of the now familiar, flawless formed wood, they are functional works of art, each one similar but asunique as a painting. This is not the typical construction seen in my world where each builder has the same materials to work with and a design code to follow. No, these are as different from one another as a birch tree is from a pine. Some are tall, just over two stories with high steeple tops. Others are long and flat with spiraling roofs ending in curved tips. Even the colors vary wildly. The tall ones are a light green like a new leaf in spring, others a polished black volcanic glass. Each one has that grown look I have come to associate with all the Kiraten constructions. I am about to ask Tarith how these buildings are made when the answer becomes evident the further we go into the village. We do a series of turns, leaving the field behind and I see several half formed structures all in a row on the outskirts of the village. It is indeed growing right out of the ground. Some are nearly finished and others have just started. The mostly complete structures have fist sized bugs, reminiscent of huge slugs, slowly crawling over the surfaces in defiance of gravity. They seem to be polishing and sealing any gaps flawlessly together. The new buildings' foundations are like a field of tightly bound plants that would merge soon into a single, broad base and grow into walls from there. It's a genetic engineering marvel.

"This is amazing!" I say to Tarith who is just ahead of us, leading the party through town as others split off on their own. "How is this possible? Do you have special science that uses biology instead of machines?" Sarah leans forward intently from behind me.

Tarith chuckles. "No, Valerdon has shaped life to help us, his chosen, to better live and serve his will. He creates the template for life and as his servants we nourish it, ensuring its survival."

Sarah frowns and I feel a similar expression cross my features. _Valerdon did this for them?_ I don't know if I believe in these Five the Kiraten are so adamant about but every day it seems more and more likely. If this is true then why didn't we get this kind of treatment? If this Palentor is our ancient one, why doesn't he favor us as Valerdon obviously doesthe Kiraten? A bitter jealously rises in my stomach. I feel like a child whose parents exclude gift giving at Christmas only to find out that all his friends got lots of toys.

Whisper snorts as he trots just behind Tarith. "My kind need no special treatment. We are mighty warriors and need no leavings of a god."

Tarith gives a sharp retort. "They are not leavings. They are gifts so we Kiraten may better serve Valerdon's will. I suspect you are a creation of Belaroth the balancer. She favors no species, but arms all equally in different ways and leaves them to their fate."

_Did this Palentor do the same for humans?_ As I think about it I dismiss it. Palentor, as Tarith had told us, is the wisest of the Five, known as the sage. Perhaps he did give us something even greater than what Valerdon gave the Kiraten. Wisdom. Humans have mastered our natural world on our own. We have created many wonders and discovered truths about the universe. That ability and natural curiosity might be the greatest gift of all. The only greater gift was not interjecting Palentor's will on us like Valerdon did with the Kiraten.

I'm not sure if Sarah is going through some personal revelation like I am. She focuses on the more immediate issue. Proving once again that she is smarter than me in many ways. "Where is this inn and is there a bath in it?"

"Yes, Sarah of house Clifford, our lodgings are just ahead. Many of our group will seek out entertainment or stay with relatives and will not be joining us. I will stay with you both. Solice will accompany us later after she meets with the local ruling house. Your arrival has already created much speculation," Tarith says by way of explanation.

It is true. So taken was I with the village itself I failed to notice Kiraten gathering a safe distance away, murmuring softly and pointing at Whisper then to us on his back. Our pale skin and different hair immediately stand out like a beacon amid the blue skin and leafy green hair that all Kiraten seem to share.

I feel heat flush my face as I become consciously aware of my every movement. I've never liked being the center of attention. Sarah however blooms before my eyes. Acting like a beauty queen atop a float she genially waves to those gathered as we pass by. None return the gesture or make any sign at all. Whisper, ever the proud warrior, strides with confidence, his head held high despite the fatigue from the long day of turmoil.

The inn is taller than most of the surrounding buildings, excluding some rather large structures off in the distance. A deep rose color it has artfully designed walls with intricate patterns imbued on all sides. A sign hangs above a set of double doors wide enough to even allow Whisper access. To my surprise it's in English. It reads 'The Travelers Den'. Why do they have signs in English? Ignoring yet another question, Sarah and I dismount, following Tarith through the doors into a wide foyer where two Kiraten wait. They give us and Whisper nervous glances.

"We greet you, Tarith of house Thanous," says the smaller of the two, bowing low. He's a bit pudgy with a good humored face that currently looks concern as he gets a good look at Whisper. "We did not expect you back for some time. Has something happened?"

"I greet you, Jarith of house Manitise," says Tarith. "Much has happened which I'm not at liberty to divulge. We make all possible haste to Babel but our extensive travel has left us weary. We require lodging for the night and supply made ready for an early departure."

"What shall we do with the mount?" Jarith asks, again giving Whisper a critical once over. "I could purchase such a beast from you and give you a more suitable replacement."

"Buy!?" Whisper growls, bearing his sharp teeth the size of daggers. "If you value your skin blue man I would not dare say such words again."

Shocked Jarith takes a step back, bowing low to Whisper as he does so. "A thousand pardons! I did not realize you could speak."

"They are off-worlders, Jarith, and are the reason for my haste. They have news of the traitor Solarkar," Tarith says.

Jarith's face darkens, his fear of Whisper temporarily forgotten. "The traitor still lives!" He spits on the floor.

"Yes, but with their help he won't for much longer," Tarith says. "Please, find lodgings for the large one. He is called Whisper of house Price and has personally dueled Solarkar to his near destruction." Jarith's face lights up. It's remarkable to see how fast his emotions changed.

"Accommodations will be found with all haste, Tarith." Turning to Whisper he adds, "Oh great warrior, forgive my earlier rudeness. I did not know I spoke to one who had battled the hated traitor. I shall find you comfortable lodgings and meat worthy of your deeds."

"I can't stay here?" Whisper says, giving me a concerned look.

"I'm afraid not. For your size will not permit such," Jarith says.

"It's ok, Whisper, we will be fine. Go enjoy your meal. You deserve it," I say.

"Very well, S...Jerry," Whisper said. Jarith claps his hands and his silent aid standing next to him comes forward, bowing deeply to Whisper.

"Come with me, large master, and I shall fine you enough food to even fill a first creation," the man says.

Heading out of the foyer back into the street I hear Whisper say, "Do you have any melgui?" Just before the door closes, sealing off all sound.

Left alone, Sarah and I make quick introductions before we're led off to separate rooms. My room, to my pleasant surprise, is marvelous with a wide bed and a deep bathtub. The floors are the same pleasant rose color as the exterior, with dizzying patterns on all surfaces. Heading to the bed beneath an oval window I see a thick mattress stuffed with who knows what with a series of finely woven blankets atop it. A small, perfectly grown dresser of black wood stands next to it. I can easily imagine such craftsmanship going for thousands in my world. A knock the door interrupts my musings.

"Come in," I answer.

Tarith steps through the door with a set of fresh clothes atop a small basket. "Jerry of house Price, I have brought you fresh linens and materials to bath yourself."

"Thanks," I say, taking the goods. "How's Sarah doing?"

"She is well. Solice has just returned and is seeing to her needs," Tarith says and I nod.

"Please relax well this night, for after this we will not stop at another village. There are many between here and Babel but they are off the main road. Our journey cannot afford any further delays."

Again I nod, feeling disappointed. Turning, Tarith is about to leave when I ask the thing that has been bothering me since we arrived. "Why is the sign for the inn in English? Why do you even speak the same language as us?"

Tarith pauses with one hand on the door. "Such things are better answered at Babel." With that, I am left alone.

It takes me a long time to figure out both the bath tub and the restroom located through a small door on the far side of the room. I seriously think about asking Tarith for help at understanding the toilet but my pride won't let me. Fortunately, I figure it out before I broke down and used the nearby sink. It isn't hard though the small creature that pops out and eats everything is rather disturbing. The bathtub is more difficult. It has a curved, jet black faucet over a pure white marble tub sunken into the floor. I glance around, looking for some type of handle. What I find is a small, unlit sigil stone in the floor. Remembering what Tarith said I press my thumb on it. A glowing symbol appears in the round stone and the hot water erupts out of the faucet. It's hot. Far too hot for a human but it feels wonderful to me. Undressing I sink beneath the water, feeling utterly relaxed. I'm not sure how long I soak in the tub, long enough for the water to turn cold. Getting out I am started by a sudden knock at the door.

"Jerry, can I come in?" A voice asks. It's Sarah. My last bathing encounter replayed before me and I am quick to reply.

"Just give me a second!" I cry, hurriedly dressing in the fresh clothes Tarith had given me, a lime-green full body suit.

Sarah enters after I give the all clear. A single glance at her and I feel my heart stop. She looks incredible. Her skin is clean and finally free of the angry red sunburn that plagued her since our arrival. It is now back to its milky white complexion. Her white blonde hair has regained much of its luster and now falls below her shoulders in an artful done pony tail. She wears a stunning light beige full body suit that blends splendidly with her skin and her hair.

"Do you like it? Solice picked it out for me. She said it would go perfect with my hair and coloring," Sarah says, beaming brightly at me. I become very aware that this was the first time we were alone since coming to Inti. Well, almost alone.

"Perfectly boring perhaps," my shadow says, becoming an indistinct silhouette leaning casually on the wall. He has been so inactive lately from all the hiding that I almost forgot he was here.

"Oh, it's you," Sarah says, looking disappointed.

"It's me," my shadow agrees, giving us his trademark evil smile. "I'm so much more here than in our world. I can't wait to go out and play." I suppress a shudder.

"Do what you want. Just leave us alone for a while," I say, then quickly add, "Don't be seen."

"No problem," my shadow says, drifting like a phantom to a window just above my bed. "I'll just kill anyone who sees me." With that ominous promise he slides out between the window and the wall, effortlessly drifting off into the night. _I wonder if he was joking. Probably not._ Sarah too looks concerned, so I quickly redirect her attention away from my shadow.

"He was lying you know," I say a bit sheepishly. "You look amazing."

Sarah's concerned look vanishes and her face flushes in pleasure. "You're finally learning," she says, coming close to me.

I catch her scent as she nears; a pleasant lilac mixed with a twinge of cinnamon. Before I can utter some inappropriate, awkward phrase that would have certainly ruined the moment she is upon me, our lips pressed together as if sharing oxygen. The embrace is beyond anything I have ever experienced and considering my views into other worlds with human eating walls and talking ferrets that's saying something. My mind is blank and my worries vanish. The moment and the feeling of Sarah's lips consume me. Nothing else matters. That is until she breaks the embrace, pulling me toward the bed. I numbly follow on unsteady legs made of jello. _Is this really going to happen?_

Nope. A second later a wailing fills the night like an air raid siren, followed immediately by a fierce knocking on my door. Sarah doesn't miss a step, dropping my hand and rushing to my door. Whatever is going on, it better be nothing less than the apocalypse or I'll be pissed.

### Chapter 18 – The City Of Babel

Solice is at the door with a spear and shield in hand. Looking a bit haggard but also eager, the light of battle illuminating her eyes. "The pit gates have been opened! Dangerous beasts roam the village. Tarith sent me requesting that you remain here for your own safety. We shall handle things."

"Forget it," Sarah declares. "I don't know what's going on but if we are in danger then it is our business."

"And Whisper's out there. I'm not waiting here," I add. Knowing him if there was any fighting he was already in the thick of it.

Sarah nods. "We aren't going to hide here. Just give me a sword and I'll make them sorry for ruining my night."

_AMEN_. I silently add. Solice looks us over and then to the widow where the sounds of clashing weapons can be heard over the wailing. I can tell she wants to get out there fast.

"Fine. Your fate shall be of your own making." With that she turns, sprinting out of the room. Sarah wastes no time, quickly joining her. Giving the bed a mournful look I follow.

Bursting out of the inn we enter a sea of chaos amid a rain of fire. There streets are illuminated by tall umbrella-like trees that had been closed earlier in the day. Now branches extend outward on all sides with small nodules on each limb glowing red like a steady fireman's siren. They emit the same wailing we had heard in my room. It makes the scene before me surreal.

Kiraten are banding together in small groups of three or four, driving back all manner of creatures, everything from velociraptors to fifteen foot tall giants wielding clubs. They jab at the rampaging creatures with spears and swords while protectively holding large shields out with sigils of repulsion in the center. Many of the sigils are already dimming.

Even as I watch more Kiraten rush forward, grabbing fresh shields and weapons from a cart carried by a melgui driven by a young child of no more than ten. The most disturbing thing is the faces of the Kiraten as they reinforce each small cluster of warriors. They aen't scared or worried. They show no signs of apprehension as they join the fray. The only thing I can see is absolute bloodlust. They are enjoying this.

Rushing to the cart with Sarah by my side we quickly select swords and shields. I had forgotten my hivetung sword upstairs in the confusion. The sword I grab has a long, curved blade like a scimitar and is the color of blue fire with fiercely glowing sigils running from the tip to the hilt. Experimentally I swing the blade, marveling at its lightness and the way it cuts the air itself. I choose a small shield the size of a manhole cover with a single sigil of repulsion glowing brightly in the center and I sling it on my free arm.

Sarah picks the same type of shield I had, being the only ones left, and grabs a sword similar in shape to the ones we use in our Kendo class. A straight, double edged blade, it is a bright gold and it too has sigils along its center. She looks like a warrior princess turned goddess. Solice is already gone, having joined one of the smaller groups. Glancing around I see Solice just as her spear tip sinks into the knee of one of the lumbering giants. I have no clue what the sigil on her weapon does but it flares powerfully, visible even through the creatures flesh like an x-ray. The penetrated limb simply explodes at the point of impact, showering the area in blood and bits of red gore. Howling, the creature tumbles down and the Kiraten quickly swarm over it like army ants, stabbing as they go.

"Let's find Whisper!" I yell over the cacophony of noise all around us. Sarah simply nods, rushing down the street as I hurry just behind her.

We don't have far to go. Turning around the inn we see a large, white shape tearing into a midsize nightmare. Bathed in the red light it is hard to make out any details but I see at least a dozen slimy, gray tentacles whipping about, surrounding some type of circular bony shell. While the creature looks terrifying it's no match for Whisper who had already torn off several limbs which continue to thrash on the ground, leaking black ooze from the stumps. Running to help I see Whisper leap high into the air, landing directly on top of the shell and pinning the creature flat. With a triumphant roar Whisper's head dives down into the shell. A loud crack echoes over the unending wailing of the trees. A moment later a death shudder trembles through the creature's remaining limbs before going limp. Raising his head out of the creature's center Whisper looks at us as we draw near, the fur around his mouth black like ink.

"Shifter, what a glorious battle!" Whisper says, giving us his warrior's grin.

"Whisper, what the hell is going on?" I say, panting slightly.

"I don't know. I was eating some rather delicious meat when I heard the disturbance. Beasts were running in all directions and shortly after the Kiraten took up arms," Whisper says.

"Where did they all come from?" Sarah asks but doesn't get the reply, for at that moment the chaos finds us. Around the corner we had come from a group of Kiraten are being heavily attacked by four of the tall, humanoid creatures I saw earlier. Swinging large clubs the giants push back the Kiraten as the sigils on their shields steadily grow weaker at each successive blow.

"For clan shifter!" Whisper bellows, sprinting in the Kiraten's direction. With a muttered curse Sarah and I follow.

The tall creatures are ugly by any definition of the word. Their skin is a deep, sickly yellow with coarse patches of black hair growing in random spots. With heads like large, deformed potatoes they have huge, off-center eyes and squashed noses that remind me of a Picasso painting. Any artfulness is off put by their wide mouths filled with shark-like teeth. Their arms nearly reach the ground and are heavily muscled with biceps as big as my shield. In comparison they have rather short, stout legs similar in size to the trunks of red wood trees. Armed with plain clubs the size of a man, they have dirty loin cloths covering their privates and move with a shuffling gate, using their free hand to aid each step.

Whisper gets there as one of the three remaining Kiraten's shields goes out and the giant's club lands on his head, squishing his entire body like a particularly juicy bug being stepped on. He's killed instantly, parts of his body sticking to the club as it is lifted off.

Leaping at the nearest giant Whisper is knocked aside as another giant steps forward, swinging his club with an audible whack into Whisper's flank. My heart skips a beat at the blow as Whisper crashes into the side of the nearest building. With insane reflexes Whisper is back on all fours in an instant, his white fur shimmering in the red light. Giving a low growl Whisper bounds forward again, this time dodging the blow and driving the giant down, scoring its chest with his claws. They must have some tough hides for Whisper's blow doesn't shred the giant apart but does leave long, deep rivulets of red running down from its chest. The Yet another giant swings its club and Whisper leaps off, circling the three remaining giants.

Arriving at the Kiraten's side I am about to ask what the plan is when Sarah darts forward. If my heart skipped a beat at the blow Whisper had taken it stops all together at Sarah's rash action. Before I know what I am doing I am at her side, rushing forward at a giant whose waist is taller than I am. The act takes the giant by surprise and before it can smash us Sarah swings her sword at its ankles in a golden arc. I expect the blade to get lodged in that thick mass of bone and for her to be knocked flat but that's not what happens. Instead the sigils flare to life along the sword's blade and the entire foot is severed as clean as a surgeon cut. A howl of pain and a torrent of blood gushes forth from the missing foot. Swaying the giant just manages to stay upright by planting both its hand firmly on the ground. That is until I severe it at the wrist. As I strike the sigils flash to life along my own blade and the hand twitches, lifeless on the ground followed by the giant a moment later. The fallen giant barely has time to scream before a Kiraten plunges a spear into its head. A shudder ripples across its skull and like a balloon with too much air it explodes in shower of sticky red bits, soaking me. Distracted at my showering of brain and bone I fail to notice a second giant stepping forward, its club swinging at me. I turn, raising my shield just in time as the club lands.

When I was five one my mother's 'boyfriends' once in a stoned fit of rage tossed me down a flight of stairs. The giant's blow is much worse. For a second I am certain that my sigil has failed and I am experiencing the last brief moment of my life before I spend the rest of my existence resembling a freshly squeezed can of Spam. Yet, even as I am hammered down to my knees, a flash of light blooms before me and the giant takes a step back, his blow repulsed by my sigil. With a furious roar Whisper, heedless of any danger to himself, rushed=s forward and with a resonating snap, removes the giant's head in one powerful bite. Standing protectively over me Whisper glares at the last giant, spitting out the offending head. I half expect the creature to attack Sarah or the remaining Kiraten now attempting to surround it. But it does something far, far worse.

Dropping its club I see fat tears leaking from its oddly placed eyes. "I want home," the creature says in a surprisingly soft, trembling voice. We all freeze, shocked at the revelation. All except the Kiraten. With practiced ease they hack down the giant. At one point it screams for its mother before being forever silenced. Before I can question what the hell is going on the Kiraten are off, presumably looking for more fights, leaving us alone.

"What the hell was that?" Sarah says, her voice weak.

"Some type of trick?" Whisper says, looking doubtfully at the dead giants. "Remember the helper crabs?"

"It was no trick, rat," a voice says from the darkness. A moment later my shadow appears next to the fallen giants. Giving us a wicked grin he crosses his arms over his dark silhouette. My shadow looks far too pleased with himself.

"What did you do?" I ask, getting to my feet, not entirely sure I want to know.

"While you were making kissy faces with the woman, I went out exploring. These Kiraten are much more enjoyable than I had originally thought," my shadow says, floating forward and picking at the Kiraten that was obliterated by the club.

"Kissy faces?" Whisper says, turning to me with an incredibly wide ferret grin on his face.

I feel myself flush red and I think Sarah does also but it could have been the red lights. "Yeah, well umm..." I say lamely.

"It doesn't matter," I say thinking back to the bed. It might really have mattered though if this happened two hours later. "What did you do, shadow?"

"Well, after freaking out a few punk kids and creatively playing with a few animals, I found this most delightful entertainment area. The Kiraten like blood sports it appears. They pit beast and these big guys against each other to the death," my shadow says, gesturing to the dead giants.

"You mean like dog fights?" Sarah says, looking outraged.

"A bit, except the winner doesn't eat the loser in those," my shadow says, giving a very, very evil grin. "Still, it was very one sided. So I figured I even the odds by letting them out. I was disappointed by a few of these creatures. Most of the big guys simply cried for their mommies, running off into the night. Wimps." I look back down to the dead giants, seeing everything in a new light. I feel utterly disgusted with myself. Sarah too looks like she wants to spit.

"Caged creatures, forced to fight to the death for entertainment," Whisper says, shaking his large white head. "There is no honor in this."

"Oh look, here come the Smurfs again," my shadow says. Turning toward the inn I see two figures approaching.

"Shadow can you..." I begin.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," my shadow says, blending perfectly into the surrounding darkness. As he does so the wailing abruptly ceases and the red light from the trees turns a soft purple. I guess it's over.

"These bastards have a lot to answer for," Sarah growls just as fiercely as Whisper could have, staring at the figures coming closer.

"Yes, they do, but we are guests here and we need them to get home. Let's stay calm and see what they have to say," I say.

"I shall for you, Shifter," Whisper says. "I find that I like these Kiraten less with each passing day. They are more like Solarkar than they admit."

"Fine," Sarah says with a sad sigh, looking at the dead giant who had called out for his mother.

Directing my attention back to the figures I see that it's Tarith and Solice. Both look battle worn but that is the only thing they have in common. Tarith is solemn and walks as if he is carrying a heavy burden. Solice on the other hand, is elated. Her blue skin is flushed with excitement and her hair is a wild tangle that perfectly reflects the events of tonight. Each hold sheathed spears and shields with faintly glowing sigils on them.

Reaching us, Tarith gives a deep bow while Solice simply nods curtly. "Thank you for your assistance tonight. Many lives have been spared by your actions. I deeply regret the need to involve yourself in our private affairs," Tarith says, bowing again.

"Tarith, you concern yourself too much with this affair," Solice says dismissively. "They fought well and enjoyed the slaughter like we all did."

"We didn't enjoy it," Sarah says harshly. "You imprison these beings to fight to the death for your entertainment? Where I come from I lock up people for a long time for doing such things."

Solice gives us a contemptuous sneer. "Do not judge our ways, spawn of Palentor. The chosen of Valerdon may do with others as we see fit. It surprises me not that your weak kind is unable to appreciate the glory of battle."

"The giants spoke," I say, glaring at Tarith. "They wanted to go home."

"They do that often," Solice says in contempt. "It takes a lot of work to get them to fight in the pits. They are more apt to cry than to give a good fight."

Sarah's face is definitely red now and she is about to explode when Tarith speaks. "You are right, of course. Many of my kind hold those who are not Kiraten in low or no regard." He gives Solice a sad look. "I and those who think like me, are a small minority. Please, let the matter rest. No good will come of arguing for the rights of others this night."

Solice gives Tarith a sneer, "Perhaps you are a weakly creation of Palentor as well, Tarith."

Tarith doesn't explode in anger or give any sign he had heard her at all. One moment he is just standing there solemn, the next he delivers a viscous back-hand strike to Solice that sends her sprawling. "You will not address me as such, Solice of house Thanous. Now go, I wish not to see you the remainder of this night."

Getting to her feet Solice spits blue blood on the ground, giving Tarith a look that could ignite wood. He just stands there, revealing nothing. Finally, with a tight bow, Solice turns and leaves but is unable to resist a parting remark. "I will go. There is still hunting left to do tonight." With that she does a fast walk out of sight.

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"She and others will ride melgui this night hunting down all those that fled rather than fight. Either they will be killed or brought back into the pits."

"That's monterous!" Sarah exclaims and Whisper gives a low growl.

"Yes, it is," Tarith says. "There is nothing we can do. Please, go back to your rooms. We will depart early tomorrow." He heads back toward then inn and then pauses, adding, "Extremely early tomorrow so that those who went out hunting this night will have a very unpleasant day." Small victories I suppose.

"Let's go get some sleep. I don't want to be here any longer," I say, tossing my sword and shield to the ground in disgust. Sarah does the same and with Whisper at our side we make our way back. I have to wonder what other surprises we would find on our way to Babel.

Not many actually. We travel long and hard over the next stretch of our journey. Tarith had said we would stop at no other villages and he was true to his word. Days stretch into weeks until the city of Babel comes into sight. I expect a larger version of the village we had stayed in but that is far from the truth. If the village was a marvel this is a divine creation. We stand on a high precipice, having just traversed a mountain road and below us the land stretches out endlessly. Dominating everything is the city of Babel like a massive gold coin in a forest of green. The city nearly reaches the horizon itself and I can't even guess at its size. Even from this great distance tall buildings can be seen with progressively smaller ones near the outer edge. Directly in the center, reaching into the clouds above and disappearing into the sky, is a tower of the deepest black imaginable. The contrast is startling.

"It's beautiful," Sarah says, joining me at my cliff-side view.

"That is Babel," Tarith says atop his melgui who flutters its feathers at being so close to Whisper. "We shall reach it before dusk if we make haste." Turning Tarith continues down the sloping road and with a final glance at Babel, we follow.

It takes the rest of the day to reach the city gates. From afar I didn't appreciate the sheer scale of the city or the wall surrounding it. Now, standing before a set massive golden doors with intricate carvings on it, I crane my neck up to look at the top, many times taller than Whisper. I feel like a dwarf in a city of giants.

"Open the gates!" Tarith bellows from the lead position. "I am Tarith of house Thanous and we have urgent business with the Primehouses!"

A dim figure far above us gives an echoing reply. "We recognize you, Tarith of house Thanous. You are free to enter." With a loud crack a sliver of light forms in the middle of the large doors, gradually expanding as the way opens. Sarah lets out a low whistle as we get a good look inside the city. The words golden city jump to mind, for the streets are literally paved with gold. Beautifully grown buildings line either side of the golden roads while Kiraten wander up and down both ends of the street. Some ride melgui while others ride creatures that I can't even begin to identify. I feel like anything could happen here. Perhaps around the next corner a group of half dinosaur children will be playing jacks.

Our group does a slow march through the crowded city, giving me plenty of sightseeing time. The road is completely straight, going to an indistinct point in the distance like spokes on the wheel with tall buildings on both sides. In the center, looming over everything, is that dark shaft I saw from the cliff, even more imposing now. Many Kiraten stop what they are doing to watch us pass, gawking at us atop Whisper. I feel distinctly awkward. I am further dismayed when Tarith says we will be staying the night at yet another inn and finishing our journey tomorrow. Riders will be sent ahead requesting an audience with the Primehouses early the next day. We are given food and soft beds along with the promise of an early day tomorrow. Exhausted and anxious to get home, I fall fast asleep as soon as my head touches the pillow.

Way too early the next morning, we are off with Tarith to meet with the Primehouses. The rest of our group is allowed leave to see their families or attend private matters. I don't mind. The arrogance of the Kiraten was getting on my nerves. The only one I actually like is Tarith.

Traffic is light this morning as a cool mist gently covers the city. We make good time, and by noon we are before another set of massive doors with an even taller wall than the outer one. I don't know why, but it feels threatening. Perhaps it's the armed guards walking high above us or that spiraling black tower stretching out of sight in the center of the city. This wall isn't gold like the other but rather an ornate silver that conjures images of forbidden magic laying just beyond. Tall statues of various figures line the wall edge facing us. Each one is alien, yet oddly familiar like a person you meet in a dream. Before I can comment on them a voice booms from atop the wall.

"State your business!"

Tarith cups his hands to his mouth, craning his head up at the shouting figure. "I am Tarith of house Thanous. I have requested an audience with the Primehouses."

A pause and I see several more figures gather together. A minute later the voice says, "Remain where you are." With a loud groan of protest the doors open inward with slow steady precision. Any magnificence I feel this time at what lays beyond the doors is quickly forgotten at the sight of at least two dozen armed men waiting for us. Tensing below me, I hear Whisper let out a soft growl.

"Easy, Whisper," I say.

"They better not try anything," he says, too low for Tarith to hear.

"They won't," Sarah assures him from behind me. I hope she is right.

"A precautionary measure only," Tarith says, looking serene.

One hell of a precaution. All the guards have thick gray armor on with large, brightly glowing sigils on their limbs and chest. They are all armed with long spears that have sigils on the blades with even more spiraling down the shafts. They look like ancient warriors from some fantasy book.

Striding forward the lead figure gives Tarith a short, insolent bow. He's tall. The tallest of the Kiraten I have seen thus far. He could easily have played basketball with his long, agile frame. He's dressed in armor that is black as night with overlapping, card-size scales that give him the look of wearing a dragon skin. The armor covers his entire body except for his head, and each scale has a small sigil of repulsion on it. It's the same type of armor Solarkar had worn. Unlike the others in the company he has no spear but rather at his waist is a transparent red sword. It glistens and pulses of its own accord like a flame condensed into a finite shape.

Tarith dismounts his melgui gracefully and gives a long, deep bow to the man. Following his lead Sarah and I get off Whisper's back with far less grace, giving the man a brief bow. Turning to regard us I get a good look at the Kiraten. Besides being tall he is handsome, like a male model with a finely chiseled chin and almost feminine cheek bones. I would say he's flawless except for the large, thin scar running from his hairline down to his chin. Like all the Kiraten he has my green, slit pupil eyes, that signature green hair and light blue skin. He doesn't acknowledge us but instead turns back to Tarith.

"These are the off-worlders you told us about, Tarith of house Thanous?" The man asks, his voice surprisingly gentle like a soft rain.

"Yes, Belguse of Primehouse Shujun," Tarith says, bowing very low once more. Straightening, he gestures to me, "This is Jerry of house Price and his companions Whisper of house Price and Sarah of house Clifford."

He finally gives us his full attention. Belguse does a careful inspection of Whisper, the most obvious threat then to Sarah where he seems able to appraise her just by studying her posture and then to me. We lock gazes and I see him frown as if I had done something rude to him in front of everybody. With a shake of his head he dismisses us like we are below his attention, addressing Tarith once more.

"The Pirmehouses need some time before we are ready to receive the off-worlders. Tarith, take them to the library. Be sure to school them on how to address their superiors. I find their insolent stares annoying." Turning his back to us, Belguse of Primehouse Shujun barks a series of quick orders to his men before striding off. Many leave off on various tasks as the doors shut behind us while others stand at the ready, spears planted in the ground.

I consider myself to be calmer than either Whisper or Sarah but even I feel irritated by his attitude. Tarith notices our anger for he has a firm grip on Sarah's arm. Her face is a rather impressive shade of red like she'sready to explode at any second. I see her struggling to take deep, calming breathes. Tarith's other arm is on Whispers bristling fur.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" Sarah demands once Belguse is out of earshot.

"A dead man," Whisper offers, glaring at his back. "The pup needs a lesson in manners."

"Please friends, remain calm," Tarith says urgently. "Those of the Primehouses are known to be the most favored of all Valerdon's creations. All other life is inferior to them. It is their right and due that all show them the upmost respect."

It's like ancient scripture justifying why one group of people is superior to all others. It smacks of royal arrogance and I nearly consider letting Whisper having him. Whisper is getting ready to spring, his warrior pride has been too offended. I am sure he doesn't want to harm him but rather teach him a lesson like he would to any of the Bartendor clan who would disrespect us so. I doubt the Kiraten would see it as such. Rushing forward I reach high, grabbing his ear and pulling his head down to my level.

"Whisper, its ok. I know he's a bastard but just a little while longer then we go home. Please don't do anything," I say urgently. I can feel Whisper trembling with fury.

"If I see him outside his stronghold away from his guards I shall teach him manners like the undisciplined whelp he is," Whisper says. He never takes his eyes off Belguse as he disappears into the distance.

"For a change I agree with the rat," my shadow says, startling both us. Nervously I look around. Glancing down I see him. He is acting like an actual shadow except for his mocking grin. My shadow has arms on hips and holds a confident pose which is anything but what I am feeling at this moment.

"Don't do anything," I warn quietly, making sure Tarith is out of earshot. Fortunately, he is still calming Sarah down. "Just a little longer and we can all go home. It's not worth the trouble."

"I will for you, Shifter," Whisper says, relaxing. My shadow only shakes his head in disgust which looks odd since I do no such thing.

"Jerry of house Price," Tarith calls out. "I shall take you to the library while we wait for our audience. Much there will be of great interest to you." Whisper and I start toward him when he stops us with a raised hand. "Great warrior Whisper of house Price, the library is not built to accommodate one of your size. I will have a servant here gather you some refreshments while we wait for our audience."

After a brief conversation with a guard Whisper is off to have a snack worthy of an entire company of guards while Sarah and I are appropriately dumbfounded by the library. I'm familiar with libraries, having spent most of my free time there when not in school or at the asylum. I'm used to seeing row upon row of knowledge perfectly preserved for future generations. Even so what I see in the Kiraten library puts everything else to shame. It isn't the amount. Any library back home could easily beat it. No, it's the age. Once we enter the building the feeling of ancient exploration instantly fills me. Manuscripts many thousands of years old line beautifully designed shelves which pale next to the books themselves. Any modern human book would be brittle like a dried leaf after so long. Not so with the Kiraten. Grabbing the nearest volume, I thumb through pages that are as subtle as silk yet tougher then the most durable plastics. Even the handwritten words did not fade with time.

"How old is this?" I ask feeling that this simple book is more wondrous and precious than anything I've seen of the Kiraten thus far.

"That is an account of the events on Fomoria over two thousand years ago," a voice says directly behind me. Giving a startled yelp, I turn along with Sarah who is more bemused by my reaction of the books than the books themselves. A hunched, elderly Kiraten is there dressed in a fine brown robe, with Tarith a few steps behind him. He is the first elder I've seen among the Kiraten. The sight actually pleases me a great deal. I was beginning to think that, along with shifting and bioengineer creatures of unequal skill, the Kiraten don't age as well. Unlike the youthful Kiraten I've seen, this man has a long, green beard and completely bald head which reminds me of moss hanging from an ancient tree. Walking with a limp, a large portion of his weight rests on an ornate cane that, from indents along its surface, also serves as an educational tool of the direct variety. Although he is old, his green slit pupil eyes shine with life. This is the type of man who lived his fullest right up to the end.

"I see we have finally found something that moves you, Jerry of house Price," Tarith says. There is no mocking tone in his voice, but rather a deep respect. "Knowledge is a most worthy conquest. A fact that many of my kind lack the desire for."

"Yes, indeed," the old Kiraten says. "I and a few of my brothers in learning have dedicated our entire lives to the cause. We have preserved and updated all the knowledge you see before you."

"If this is so valuable why are there no guards?" Sarah asks, then adds, "Umm, who are you?"

The old Kiraten chuckles. "I and my brothers here are known as the Grandfathers. We are the care-takers of knowledge among my people. It is considered a low art so there is no need for guards. I am Grandfather Udin of Primehouse Vanquise." I stiffen at the name and I see Sarah too straighten up, a wary look in her blue eyes. Grandfather Udin doesn't look surprised at our reaction. If anything he looks rather understanding.

"I know the name is familiar to you. I was informed yesterday about your arrival and have taken it upon myself to meet with you before your council with the Primehouses. Before you inquire I will tell you. Yes, I know the name of Solarkar, to my Primehouse's very great shame. Such potential twisted by his own ambition. Not an uncommon failing among my people but never since the fall has it been so disastrous. Come, do not let the failings of a misguided youth ruin our meeting. I am grateful for all you have done and will gladly answer any questions you may have."

I make a conscious effort to relax. This man is not Solarkar. I should know better than anyone that the faults of one's family don't reflect the nature of everyone else. My mother was a junkie who treated me like garbage. My uncle was her dealer and perhaps even her pimp on occasion. And my father... well best not to think about that until I get home.

Giving Udin a bow I say, "We are not our family, Grandfather Udin of Primehouse Vangquise. I'm sorry for my reaction. It just caught me off guard."

"Me too," Sarah says, also giving a bow like we had seen others do. "That bastard Solarkar has done so much wrong in my world that I overreacted."

"Apologies are not required, Sarah of house Clifford," Udin says, showing he already knew our names. "Come, let us walk and discuss many things before your council." We are given the ultimate tour as Udin slowly walks in front of us, telling us much. I think the name given to him of Grandfather is well deserved and not from age, but rather from wisdom.

"I was informed that you are from Fomoria creations of Palentor," Udin says as we ascend a flight of stairs to an upper level in a large open space. It gives us a great view of the library from up high.

"So we are told," Sarah says doubtfully. I am too distracted by all the books to respond. I wonder if they would give me a library card.

"Before the fall, my kind did terrible things to your people. It has always been a source of shame for those learned in such things."

"Such as?" Sarah says.

"What's this fall you keep referring too?" I ask suddenly. Udin sighs. "You must understand, many of my people see all others as inferior."

"Yeah, we got a good dose of that on the way here," Sarah says bitterly. "What's that got to do with our world?"

"In ancient times all Kiraten could shift. It was the greatest ability Valerdon gave us. Convinced of our own superiority to all others we spread out across all five worlds. My people saw this as our right of conquest. A divine edict if you will." Udin stops before a mural, so intent am I on the books that I don't notice what is before us until Sarah elbows me in the ribs. It's incredible piece of artwork, nearly a story tall depicting the five worlds in great detail. On the top is an earth-like sphere with blue oceans and green land masses. It accurately shows the continents along with major civilizations at the time, including the Roman Empire. Below the mural is a word in an elegant flowing script _Fomoria_. Without a doubt that is Earth. Even more telling are the four other world maps below it. Each separate yet connected by five pillars, one on each corner and one in the center.

Just beneath Fomoria is the world of Sheol. In stark contrast to Fomoria, Sheol is barren. Vast deserts stretch from one end of the world to the other with a few sporadic ruins depicted here and there. Dominating the map is a black ocean with a swirling vortex in the center like a unending hurricane. I am familiar with bits of that world, being the closest to my world. The black sands are there, along with the home world of Brick's kind.

Next is Elysium, Whisper's world. Sprawling jungles rule most of the land with a few pictures of purple crystals standing out like brilliant gemstones. Separating the land masses are deep, rich blue oceans that look untainted by all. It's beautiful. Like an Earth untouched by man, wild yet harmonious.

Below Elysium is Pandedonium. An apt name for it has the most chaotic landscape imaginable. Tall mountains next to deep valleys that, even in the mural, seem to go right to the center of the planet itself. What appear to be several suspended islands are depicted in great detail, as if the laws of nature are void in that place. Inverted yellow waterfalls that boggle my mind show water flowing up to the sky, pooling there before falling back down in other locations. Green seas separate the continents with paintings of large serpents shown within. Yet all this pales next to a single red pool in the center of one of the landmasses. Written words in a language I don't understand surround the pool over and over again. Danger doesn't even describe what I feel upon seeing that. Of all the worlds, that one single red pool feels the most ominous of all.

Finally, in the most detail is Inti, expanding from the blue desert to the Dragon's graveyard and far beyond. I now see that our entire journey for these past months stretches nearly the length of the United States. Yet there is much more to explore. On the map I see cities that chill me to the bone. Camelot, Atlantis, and Avalon are there along with many more I don't recognize but from her expression Sarah does.

"I see you recognize many names in our world of Inti," Udin says correctly reading our shocked looks. "That is not surprising. Before the fall, my people used our natural shifiting talent to aid us in spreading to many worlds, becoming recognized as heroes and even gods. It made us very arrogant."

"What happened?" Sarah says, still staring at the famous city names on the Inti world map.

"The Five happened," Udin says. "For my people's acts of cruelty and domination of other life, a vote was made. Valerdon and Shalarom voted to allow my people to continue spreading out however we chose. The first and only known time the two were in agreement. The other three voted against the Kiraten and the fall began. Great destruction followed and the Kiraten were obliterated from all worlds except Inti. Many, fearing the wroth of the Five, shifted entire cities to Inti and were spared. In the end only five houses survived intact, one for each of the Five. They became the five Primehouses. All the other houses future descendants lost the ability to shift. Only the Primehouses were left untouched. Never again shall the Kiraten conquer other worlds and retrain the right to shift if they desire. Such is our legacy."

"So all our tales of heroes and fabled cities are true then?" Sarah says, shaking her head in amazement.

"Exaggerated I'm sure, but true to a degree," Udin confirms. "My people did many atrocities as well. Slavery and Genocide can all be traced back in our histories, to the actions of a few Kiraten who wanted to play god." He gives us a shameful look as if the deeds of long ago still haunt him.

"You didn't do those things, Udin," I say. "We're just amazed by all this. Most of the cities here are legends to us. Seeing them here as common dots on a map is overwhelming."

"No kidding," Sarah says, still looking at the maps.

"Is this why you and many other worlds speak English?" I ask.

"Yes, it was the common language for my people and we spread it to your world and the five others as well." Udin says.

I am about to ask if the Kiraten ever had children with other races when a loud, rude cough from behind me nearly sends me tumbling over Sarah. It is Belguse. He has the look of a royal asked to clean up after a horse, which I am guessing sums up his feelings toward us.

"The five Primehouses will see you now," Belguse says with the perfected air of royal snobbishness. Turning his back to us he starts off at a quick walk and Tarith makes frantic gestures for us to follow. I briefly consider doing a really slow walk just to piss Belguse off but it isn't worth the trouble. Just a little longer and we will be home.

Going down long hallways with hundreds of statues and portraits lining the wall, it's hard not to fall behind. Many depict Kiraten fighting great battles with everything from dinosaurs to dragons. Others are more unpleasant. One shows a gloriously clad Kiraten standing above a group of nearly naked, groveling humans. From Belguse's attitude, not much has changed.

Minutes later we enter a great chamber and I am once again dumbfounded. I'm beginning to worry that I might never stop feeling like a country boy in this world. A grand ceiling several stories high loops around in a great circle with hundreds upon hundreds of chairs, all looking down at us like spectators at an arena. The place is packed. I instantly feel nervous as what seems like thousands of eyes track my every movement. Besides the audience chambers above, there are five chairs directly in front of us. I think of them as chairs but thrones would be more accurate. Each one is a master work of art and distinctly unique from the others. Some have curved tops with actual leaves growing from them, while others have a more sinister look, with bones and skulls decorating the crests. Upon each throne sits a Kiraten. Two are women and three are men. Each one is richly dressed with the utmost finery imaginable. All have that distinctive blue skin and wavy green hair.

"Follow my lead," Tarith whispers. "Whatever you do, offer no offense and bow often."

"At least my back will be stretched out by the time we get home," Sarah says quietly.

Belguse steps forward, bowing deeply for the first time I've seen to the five figures above. "I, Belguse of Primehouse Shujun, your most trusted servant have brought the off-worlders before you. I have also brought Tarith of house Thanous, as well. He has traveled long with the off-worlders and has become familiar with their ways."

"Come forth, Tarith of house Thanous, and be recognized," the central kingly figure says. Handsome, he proudly wears many scars on his face like badges of honor. It gives him a rugged, manly air despite being short for a Kiraten. He has a hard, lean body that, if his face is any indication has seen many fights in his time. The word tough doesn't do him justice. Garbed in a full body gray robe, that ripples, the Kiraten reminds me of some ancient monk whose finger could be considered a deadly weapon. Thousands of linked sigils are woven into the fabric, giving him the look of some deity as they shine brightly. He has no sword or shield, instead at his side is a fighting staff. It too has sigils of light all over it.

On either side of him is a female Kiraten, dressed as richly as any queen, with jewels in their hair and war paint on their faces. The contrast was startling. Were they to be praised for their beauty and elegance or saluted for their bravery and courage? Perhaps both. On the far ends are two more Kiraten men, dressed just as richly as the center figure but with less finery and more weaponry. They wear purple silken cloaks over full body armor just like Solarkar had, with hundreds of brightly glowing sigils on each individual scale. Shimmering swords covered in sigils lay rather casually across their laps, like dear pets.

Stepping forward Tarith bows low and following just behind him Sarah and I do the same. "Oh great speakers for the Primehouses, I your humble servant Tarith of house Thanous, have come before you on an errand of the utmost importance."

"We have received your report," the right-most woman says. She is well muscled like Solice with the look of a professional fighter. Like the central figure she has scars on the visible portions of her skin, making no attempt to hide them, including her lean, almost gaunt face. Her garments are a perfect blend of elegance and armor. She wears a blood red skirt to her knees that looks as soft as a warm breeze yet sturdy as plate mail. Beneath the skirt are matching red leggings so perfectly blended to her skin it is indistinguishable besides the contrast to her blue skin. She has on a top that appears to be some kind of reptile skin, with black hexagonal sections each twice the size of a quarter, linked flawlessly together. The mail shirt ends at the elbows, forming a large V below her neck. She would have looked stunning if it weren't for the blue face paint from her left temple to her right chin. The paint is too thin to be anything other than the blue blood of the Kiraten. I see no weapons on her, but she does wear thick matching red fingerless gloves that look rather worn from use. Everything has glowing sigils on it, from her skirt to her gloves. I see the sigils for repulsion on her armor, but her gloves have several I've only seen on weapons before.

"Off-worlders, I am Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth. I welcome you to Babel. It is rare for folk from Fomoria to visit here. Tell me, how did you arrive here in Inti? Tarith's reports were evasive on the subject."

Shit. I rack my brain, trying to think of some type of evasion but none come to mind. A quick look at Sarah and she gives me a quick shrug. No choice left then, I suppose.

"I thank you, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth, for your warm welcome," I say, bowing deeply. "I intentionally left out how I got here from Tarith of house Thanous, not for reasons of deception only of precaution," I say diplomatically.

"I see now the time has come to tell all," I continue. "Until recently I had the ability to shift myself." A loud mummer rocks the crowd above and the speakers below. Even Tarith gasps. All five Primehouse speakers lean forward rather intently.

"How is such a thing possible?" The central figure says, fixating on me like a cat on a mouse.

"I'm not certain myself, umm..." I trail off, not sure how to address him.

"I am Liral of Primehouse Amun. To my left is Ewith of Primehouse Olympus and you just met Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth. On the far left is Xarvin of Primehouse Shujun and on the far right is Gardith of Primehouse Vanguise." I make a quick mental note of each name, hoping I don't screw them up too badly.

"Now, answer the question," Ewith says rather impatiently. She has on a full body suit much like Sarah and I do except hers is a brilliant purple, showing every curve of her very feminine body in great detail. Unlike Yawrith she is incredibly attractive, with no scars disfiguring her in the slightest and she has a very luscious build that would make any woman jealous. She doesn't use blood for face paint but has yellow markings around her eyes, curling down to her lips. She, like all the others, is covered in sigils along with two long daggers strapped to her thighs.

"I suspect my father was a Kiraten," I say. I don't have to add from the Primehouses, that was already self-evident. Again a ripple goes through the gathered audience until Xarvin stands up, clanging his sword and shield together.

"Silence!" Xarvin bellows into the audience and then turns his well-lined face to me. Eldest of the five, he has the look of a combat veteran of a thousand battles. "You say you can no longer shift, Jerry of house Price? Why is that?"

"Yes," I say. "In rescuing Sarah of house Clifford from Solarkar, I was deceived and I believe what you call a Razoha got inside me. Otherwise I would already be home by now."

"You must have been troublesome for Solarkar to use such a creature against you," Gardith of Primehouse Vanguise said, a rather fierce grin on his youthful face. "You have my thanks for that. Solarkar of no Primehouse killed many of my kin in his rise to power. I shall gladly skewer him myself when the time comes."

"Do not get ahead of yourself, Gardith," Liral says. "This boy mere existence is blasphemy. We Kiraten are forbidden to interbreed with the lesser races. Our recent history is a reminder of that is."

I stiffen. I don't like where this is going. "True, but forget not the law of the Five after the fall prevent any action being taken against this boy," Yawrith says.

"Unless the Five themselves judge," Liral counters.

"Why should we take such actions against the boy?" Gardith says, giving me a grateful smile. "He has fought against the traitor Solarkar and from all reports we now have a rough location of his whereabouts and actions."

"Solarkar's actions in another world does not concern us," Xarvin says dismissively. "He is beyond the blue sands and reaching him will be perilous. Let him rot trying to carve himself a makeshift kingdom of lesser creatures."

"I don't like where this is going," Sarah says to me in a whisper.

"Yeah, I think they are trying to decide what to do with me. I think some ancient laws are protecting us." I say.

"You are right," Tarith adds in our hushed conversation. "It was wise of you not to mention your origins before now. Some of my people would have killed you on the road for merely existing."

"They could try," Sarah says hotly though still quietly. An abrupt turn in the conversation of the Primehouses draws my attention back.

"His offspring could potentially shift across the worlds. Perhaps it would be better to geld him," Liral says. I feel myself blanch.

"No. The law of the Five makes clear any action against those of other worlds must be decided by their own governing laws or by judgment of the Five," Yawrith says.

"Fine," Liral says with a defeated sigh. "The boy's sire then. He would be Kiraten and subject to our laws. The punishment for breeding with another race is death. We must, at the very least, kill his sire so shameful events will not repeat endlessly. There must not be another Shame of Valerdon."

_Shame of Valerdon... that's what that girl from my dreams was called. What is her connection to all of this?_ Suddenly the doors burst open behind us, interrupting both the conversation and my private musing. A platoon of guards approach, all with fierce glowing spear tips of purest white crystal. They wear black, full body armor and look like a type of erect beetle. They kneel just behind us, bowing low to the floor. The speakers of the Primehouses glare angrily at them for the interruption.

"Forgive us speakers, but we have urgent business," the lead guard says through some filter by his mouth, still kneeling.

"You had best for interrupting us," Liral says, the threat clear in his voice.

If the man realizes the danger he gives no sign. Getting to his feet he anxiously scans the room as if expecting assassins to leap out at any moment. "The Farwatchers have detected signs of corruption in this very chamber. It is a power unlike any other they felt since the last great war."

Shocked, the speakers drop their look of annoyance, changing to one that could be best described as fear. "The power of Shalarom, here in this chamber?" Ewith says, drawing her knives.

"That's impossible. The way has been sealed for more than one hundred years," Xarvin says. "Is it the girl again?"

"No, Xarvin of Primehouse Shujun, this power if far beyond the Shame of Valerdon's ability." The guard says as they continue to scan the room.

_What are they looking for?_ The white glare from their spear tips is painful beyond just the brilliant light they cast, as if is burning me. Suddenly I remember where I saw this light and these weapons before. From my dream! They were torturing the girl and looking for some corruption when I showed up with my... Oh my god!

"Look!" Xarvin says, trembling and pointing an unsteady hand at me, the brave fearless warrior now gone. "The boy has no shadow!" It is true of course.

"It can't be!" Liral says, going pale. "The abomination is supposed to be dead!" He turns an accusing glance to Yawrith. "You assured us he was dead!"

Yawrith, if anything, looks more shocked than all the others. "He is dead." She says it with a hint of uncertainty.

"Obviously not, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth!" Liral screams, shaking the room itself with his fury. "His spawn is standing before us!"

"Perhaps he sired the boy before his death," Yawrith says weakly, looking like she might vomit at any moment.

_What the hell is going on?_ Turning, I see Tarith staring at me with horror in his eyes like I had just transformed into a rampaging dragon. Next I meet Sarah's eyes, who looks just as bewildered as I.

The only one who isn't paralyzed is Belguse, who has the light of battle in his eyes. "Seize the boy!" He commands in his most powerful tone. "Find and take his shadow!"

"Take me?" Says an all too familiar mocking tone from the far wall. "You're funny, blue man. Thinking that you could do anything to me." A moment later my shadow, high up on the ceiling, drifts down before everyone becoming an utterly dark silhouette leaning causally against the wall as if a room of hostile Kiraten are no more threatening that a group of angry kittens.

"Seize it!" Belguse yells and the men with the spears of light immediately obey. Images of my shadow cringing like a vampire before a cross fill my head as the spears are lowered, thrusting directly at my shadow. The light from the crystal tips flashes brightly as they near him. He only laughs as his darkness stretches out, smothering each spear tip as if they were weak candles in a strong breeze. A moment later they are all extinguished. Well not completely extinguished, but corrupted and turned a deep, sickly black with cracks crisscrossing the formerly brilliant crystals. If I had thought Kiraten fearful before now they show outright terror. Screams and shrill cries to Valerdon erupt on all sides as weapons are drawn. Over everything, echoing deep in all our minds is the ceaseless laughter of my shadow.

The men with the defiled crystal spears throw them to the ground as if fearing the corruption would spread to their limbs. Several draw short swords covered in sigils and charge my shadow. Could he be harmed by such weapons? I didn't find out. Before they could slash at his dark silhouette my shadow grows incredibly large. Larger and more terrible than I've ever seen. It's as if he had become a dark reflection of a demonic dragon. The men falter. My shadow doesn't leave them time to decide what to do. Falling upon them, the men are smothered completely by a half formed bubble of darkness. More shouting from all directions but it does no good as the frantic struggling beneath the semi-sphere of darkness slows and stops altogether. The Kiraten are already dead.

No longer thrilled by the prospect of battle Belguse, spared from my shadow's initial assault, turns toward me, his rational mind gone. He is now completely in the grip of fear. "If I kill you it will be gone too," Belguse says, drawing his sword. Ignoring all else he leaps at me with animal fright, trying to skewer me like a roasted pig. He might have succeeded if not for Sarah. Having been completely ignored she is able to side kick Belguse as he leaps. The sigils on his armor flare, knocking Sarah aside but also sending Belguse enough off balance to miss me and land next to my shadow.

Collapsing from the blow, Belguse is on all fours as he slowly looks up at my shadow who has reformed into his standard dark silhouette looming over him. A tremble shakes his body and a small trail of clear snot leaks freely from both nostrils as he stares into the abyss, and with a smile, it looks him straight in the face. Belguse screams as my shadow covers him, the sigils on his armor flaring from all sides, repulsing the darkness for a few seconds before failing and being completely smothered. A second later, Belguse of Primehouse Shujun was gone.

Straightening, my shadow has such an evil grin on his dark features that I actually feel afraid for Sarah and myself for a moment. Before I could act to contain him, a voice speaks up directly behind me.

"I'm so sorry, Jerry of house Price," Tarith says as a sharp pain cracks my head. "This must end..." Blackness as deep as my shadow takes me and I know no more.

### Chapter 19 – Judgment Of The Gods

A soft sound reaches my ears, as if being broadcasted from the opposite side of an ocean. It's the sound of heartache and loss.

Crying... Do I hear crying? Yes... there it is again. Who's crying?

I try to move but an intense pain hits me, sending me back deep into my mind. I try opening my eyes but find the task impossible.

Why can't I open my eyes?

Did someone glue them shut?

It was probably my shadow... He's always doing stuff like that.

The haze comes back, pulling me under with irresistible force. Awareness fades like a dream.

_I think I'll just sleep some more..._ _Maybe I'll see that girl again and get some answers..._

I awaken to fingers gently stroking my hair. It is so nice, and I am so tired that I stay still, enjoying the sensation. The ground beneath me is hard and unfriendly but my head is on something warm and soft with a familiar, welcoming smell to it. Again the fingers lovingly caress my head, slowly dragging though my hair.

A half sob sounds from just above me, "Jerry, please wake up. I don't know what I'll do without you."

It's Sarah. I would know her voice anywhere. Immediately, I open my eyes and then promptly shut them as a tremendous headache racks my skull. I let out a groan. _Did I get hit by a car while I was out?_

"Jerry!" Sarah yells, her hands tightening on my hair.

"Shifter!" Comes Whisper's worried voice, echoing in the room and in my head.

"Ugh, please not so loud," I say weakly, my head pulsing in pain at each word.

Opening my eyes again I resist the urge to shut them this time. I am in a dank prison equipped with sturdy bars, hanging moss on the ceiling and the smell of old, dry bones. Not much else is visible from my vantage on Sarah's lap except her beautiful face, wet with tears but smiling down at me. I get an extreme close-up as she presses her lips firmly to mine. The act causes my head to scream in agony, but I ignore it. This is too wonderful. After what seems like a long time we separate and I half expect Whisper's huge face to fill my view, covering me with his large wet tongue. The fact that he doesn't tells me something is very very wrong.

Regretfully, I sit up, leaving my warm pillow behind. A glance tells me much. I am indeed in prison along with both Sarah and Whisper. Sarah and I are in the same cell with a pile of the straw in one corner and a chamber pot in the opposite one. Whisper is across the hall from us in a rather large cage that barely holds him. He is pressed tightly against the bars as if he is straining to reach me. The bars of his cage show signs of being gnawed on. Whatever material was used in their creation they resist even his powerful jaws.

"Shifter! You're finally awake!" He shouts excitedly, his purring tone echoing in the silence around us.

"Yeah," I say clutching my head. Unless I am mistaken there are several new lumps that hadn't been there before. "How long was I out?"

"Two days," comes a reply from a wide set of stairs to the left of my cell. A moment later Tarith steps into view, his arm in a sling and his face haggard like the day he was forced to kill the creatures from the fighting pit. "I was afraid my blow did more damage than I anticipated."

An extremely menacing growl emanates from Whisper that sounds like thunder in the confined space. Tarith stays safely in the middle of the corridor.

"Careful, little man," Whisper says. "If it was me you would have lost more than the use of your arm."

"I doubt that not, great warrior Whisper," Tarith says.

"I did the best that I could before they pulled me off," Sarah argues, leveling a death glare at Tarith. "A few more seconds and more than his arm would've been broken."

"I do not doubt that as well, Sarah of house Clifford," Tarith says giving a respectful bow. "Rarely have I've seen a fighter with such skill. You fight as well as many of my brethren who dedicate their entire life to the art."

"Don't compare me to you monsters," Sarah says, looking like she might leap at him despite the bars. Her anger is electric in the air. I however, don't feel much of anything which surprises me. I just feel empty and hollow, like a part of me is missing.

"I'm sorry you feel such anger toward my people. It is not unwarranted," Tarith says. Turning, gives me such a haunted look that I nearly feel sorry for him, if my head weren't threatening to collapse at any second. Getting to my feet I stare at Tarith through the bars.

"What the hell is going on, Tarith?" I ask. "The last thing I remember was the Primehouse speakers talking about some type of abomination then someone mentioned my shadow..." Like a sudden fireworks display at the dead of night it all comes back. The fight that broke out and my shadow's resulting slaughter of the Kiraten. Suddenly the part of me that felt missing becomes clear.

"Tarith, where's my shadow?" I demand. He should have been here mocking Whisper or causing his standard havoc.

Tarith gives me such a low bow that his face nearly reached his knees. "I'm truly sorry for striking you, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth. The situation was beyond control and no other course of action would suffice. The corruption of Shalarom inside you was greater than even the fires of the dragon. It had to be contained at all costs. Once you lay unconscious the corruption lost much of its strength and we were able to contain it with no further loses."

I look around, half expecting to see a grumpy shade of darkness stuck on the wall like a pinned bug in an insect collection.

"It's around your neck," Sarah says. At first I can't make sense at what she said. _Around my neck?_ The idea is absurd. I instinctively reach down feeling a heavy pendant there. It's soft and cool as if absorbing the heat from my fingers. Pulling it away from my neck as far as I can I look down, studying the pendant. Utterly black and seamless it is surprisingly heavy in my hand. The size and shape of a ring box, it is slightly hypnotic in its beauty, drawing my gaze and thoughts into it. Directly in the center is a fiercely glowing sigil that should have been too bright to look at yet isn't. It's like the pendant is stealing the light before it can reach my eyes.

"That is shadow wood," Tarith says. "Created by Valerdon during the last Great War, it is used to contain the power of Shalarom. Corruption is drawn into it sealing it inside. The Primehouses rightly fear your corruption, for if it is unleashed once more many will perish."

Standing stiffly he adds, "I have come on behalf of the Primehouses to inform you that all three of you will be judged before the Five themselves tomorrow at the suns' zenith."

"What?" Sarah exclaims. "You attacked us! Hell, even Jerry's shadow was behaving itself until you attacked it."

"I should have killed you when I first saw you," Whisper snarls. "All of you are no different than Solarkar."

"Yes, perhaps you are both right," Tarith says sadly, shaking his head. "You came to us in good will with vital news of Solarkar that now has been forgotten. Jerry's existence is more of a threat to the Primehouses than a thousand Solarkars. Even the deaths today are of little importance. For Jerry's existence means that the abomination might still be alive."

The abomination could only be one thing. "Tarith, who is my father?" I ask.

"Ask the other if you live through tomorrow," Tarith says as he turns away, walking to the stairs.

"Damn it, Tarith!" I yell at his back. In response to my emotions I feel the pendant twitch, straining to hold back the flood of corruption within. "Who is my father?"

Ignoring my outburst Tarith walks up a short flight of stairs, exiting the prison and sealing us behind. My blood pounds in my head and it feels like I was just smacked again. I sit back down, taking breaths far too fast, my vision darkening slightly.

Sarah wraps her arms around me, "Jerry, calm down. You're still hurt. Don't push yourself." My anger fades fast at her warm embrace and the pendant grows still as does my headache.

"Don't worry, Shifter. We will endure," Whisper says.

"What happened after I was knocked out?" I ask.

"I didn't get a good view of it," Sarah admits. "Once Tarith hit you I jumped him, wrestling him to the ground. I saw your shadow stagger, becoming insubstantial. It was like a glass of ink that suddenly had water added to it. It looked diluted. I didn't see much else. Three Kiraten pried me off Tarith before I could finish him. After that I saw a Kiraten with that locket placing it around your neck."

"Why give it to me at all?" I ask. "Wouldn't it make more sense for it to be far away from me?"

"I don't know," Sarah says, shaking her head. "No one told me anything."

"If only I was there!" Whisper growls. "I would have finished off these cowardly Kiraten and we would be free."

"What happened to you?" I ask, surprised that anyone could capture Whisper.

Whisper lowers his head in shame. "They kept bringing me delicious food and I fell asleep. I woke up here. Forgive me, Shifter. I have failed you."

"No you didn't," Sarah says with a scoff. "They drugged you. I've seen drugged sleep before and that was definitely it."

"Cowards," Whisper snarls. "They have no honor."

"Let's hope they have some or we are totally screwed," I say.

****

I sleep little that night despite Sarah sleeping next to me. The straw doesn't make for a comfortable bed and various scenarios of my judgment play like a movie in my mind. In a few I am killed outright along with Sarah and Whisper. In others they watch as I am beheaded. I can't find the willpower to imagine ones where we all walk out smiling, free to go home. Holding Sarah tight I try in vain to drop my worries and rest, but it is useless.

"Sarah," I say gently, trying not to wake Whisper. "Whatever happens tomorrow, I just wanted you to know that being with you has been the happiest time in my life. I truly thought that no human could ever understand me or care about me the way you do. I just wanted to say thank you."

"Oh, Jerry," Sarah says, kissing me deeply. "We will get out of this, you'll see. It'll be all right."

I want to believe her but know it isn't true for me. Perhaps if I plead guilty they would send Whisper and Sarah back home. _Are we truly going to be judge by the five ancient ones?_ My mind races as I imagine immense beings towering over us, pronouncing our doom in voices like thunder.

"I love you, Sarah," I say, swallowing hard. It's the first time I have ever used those words.

"I love you, too," Sarah says, snuggling closer. She presses her lips to mine and despite the doom ahead of us, I just enjoy the moment. Sitting up, she glances at Whisper who snores loudly before undressing. I swallow, unable to think. I can only act as Sarah helps me out of my clothes, and for the next hour I feel only bliss. Entwined we fall asleep, the concerns of tomorrow seem a long way off.

The time of our judgment comes way too soon and any notion I had about a jail break is immediately dispelled once I see our escort. The Kiraten come prepared, that's for sure. Row upon row of Kiraten fully armored and armed stride past our cells so that we are completely surrounded on both sides. Even more wait by the stairs with full body armor so not even their faces can be seen. In the middle of it all I see two figures. Tarith and Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth the same Primehouse that Tarith had called me by. My father's house.

Yawrith looks no different than she did a few days ago, still with her blood red leggings and black honeycomb shirt. All her sigils are glowing brightly, most likely freshly charged. Tarith however wears no armor, just a plain green full body tunic that matches his hair and eyes. Neither one looks to be in the gloating mood.

"Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth, I'm sorry things have come to such," Yawrith says.

"If you were truly sorry you would let us go," I say. "I find your words empty, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth." I say the last word with disdain. More direct, Whisper just snarls at them.

"Whisper, don't fight," I say, realizing the danger. "Our only chance is to cooperate."

"I could take them," Whisper offers.

"Maybe," I say. "But they would certainly be able to kill me and Sarah. You can't fight them and protect us at the same time."

"The cowards would use you as shields," Whisper agrees and I see many stiffen at the remark.

"Jerry's right," Sarah adds in. "We have no choice but to follow the twisted little smurfs."

Several guards brandish weapons at us but Yawrith restrains them with a single raised hand. "No violence. The Five await them and it will not be said that the Kiraten mistreat our prisoners before judgment is given."

"Too late for that," Sarah says.

"Perhaps," Yawrith agrees.

With clockwork precision we are shackled, including Whisper and marched to the Five. Moving with slow steps, all that is allowed with my chains, I feel in a dream as we turn corners, marching in double file with fifty guards ahead and at least as many behind. I almost expect rows of people tossing rotten fruit as we pass by, but there is no one; just empty corridors until the guards split off on either side before a set of thick polished silver doors that reflect the room around us but oddly not the people. No one pushes the doors inward yet at our approach the doors open of their own accord. I feel a thick lump in my throat as we enter the chamber with Yawrith and Tarith. The guards all remain outside. I try to swallow but find I don't even have enough spit as I cross the threshold.

The room is large but not nearly as big as the audience hall we first met the Primehouses in. In fact this place is fairly plain, the only thing of note being a set of stairs up to a raised platform in the center. Water surrounds the raised the dais, flowing with a gentle gurgling sound. Once we are inside the door closes just as mysteriously as it had opened. The feeling of dread that percolates in me reaches new peaks. It's spooky as hell in here. Climbing to the top of the stairs I see five statues of various makes. They are over ten feet tall and worn from age, yet somehow still pristine. Each has its own little alcove and chair it is sitting in.

The left-most is an elderly man that has a wizardry presence about him, craved from white marble. It has a long beard with a pointy hat, a gnarled staff in one hand and a book in the other. A hooked nose give character to the face along with prodigious crow's feet at both eyes. The eyes stand out the most. They are not Kiraten but look rather human instead. The craftsmanship is so great that the look of intelligence in the statue's carved features is unmistakable. Garbed in a long robe that looks splendid despite being made of stone ends in tufts at the ankles, where two sandaled feet poke out from beneath the robe. The next statue is vastly fat and deformed, made of gritty sandstone. Shorter than the wizard statue it completely fills the chair with its bulk and had two stubby legs dangling slightly off the ground. The statue is naked and I am thankful for its girth, for it hides anything that might have been carved between its legs. The most disturbing thing is its face. It has a ring of horns growing out of its bald head like a built in crown of thorns. The eyes are immense, much too big for that face, almost owl sized in proportion. They give the impression of always watching. The mouth is a terror, stretching the entire length of its face and actually going around the sides a bit. While the mouth is closed, it is easy to imagine teeth more suitable to a predator rather than the flat teeth of a human or Kiraten.

The middle statue is unlike the others. It is definitely female and made of wood. The wood doesn't have the dead, dried look I would expect from an old carving. This looks wet and still living. Its toga is the only human thing about it. More beast than woman it has a foxlike face including a snout and whiskers. It does have five fingers on each hand but instead of fingernails it most definitely has talons that left small scratches in the chair they rest upon. Past the toga it has no feet but instead hooves that conjure images of satyrs. The smallest of the statues, it is only just above ten feet tall yet it has an almost visceral aura of power around it, making it the fiercest of the five.

The next statue is the tallest and the most surprising. It looks like a distinguished gentlemen. Carved from obsidian it wears a rather fine pin-striped white suit made from quartz. It is the only statue made from two different materials. Extremely lean with abnormally long fingers, it looks like it could perform delicate surgery or twist a head off an infant The face is easy to dismiss at a glance with its plain, indistinct features. Yet looking closer you feel compelled to trust it with your most valuable secrets, and even closer you see how unwise it would be to do so.

The last statue is a warrior made of polished steel. Armored in glorious mail studded with blue sapphires it has a spear in one hand a round shield in the other. Barefoot, it has a haughty look of superiority to it as if it expects that it should be obeyed immediately and without question. The face is that of the Kiraten; the same delicate features and slit pupil eyes. The statue's polished hair is artfully done in a wavy mess behind its back and glitters in the light. It is obvious that much care has gone into preserving this statue above all the others.

Striding forward Yawrith kneels before the statues along with Tarith. Never ones to bow to inanimate objects, Sarah and I just stand while Whisper looks confused as the water gurgles far too loudly in the uncomfortable silence.

"I, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth, come beseeching the five for their judgment upon Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth."

At first nothing happens. I expected voices to come from each statue or something. Soft voices that she would bend close to hear and invent some kind of fake, already decided judgment on us. I do not expect the statues to come to life. With the groan of rock sliding on rock the statues all stand up and I hear Sarah's gasp of surprise.

"We hear you, Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth, and have come," the wooden female says. "We are ready to pass judgement."

_Whoa, this is all happening too fast! Am I supposed to defend myself? I should have asked for a lawyer!_ Not sure what to say or do, I take one step forward, shaking slightly. Yawrith lets out a hiss at my action but I ignore her. This is my fate and I'll be damned if I am just going to be passive.

"Don't I get a lawyer or something?" I say, nothing else popping into my mind.

A few of the figures find that amusing, letting out small chuckles. "No, Jerry Price, that is not necessary," says the wizard. "We are well aware of events leading to this day. The only thing left to do is decided what course of action to take."

"Who are you?" I ask.

"Of course, let me give you a brief introduction," the wizard says again. "I am Palentor."

"I am Melephos," the fat man says, giving me an evil glare.

"I am Belaroth," says the woman.

"I am Shalarom," says the tall gentlemen.

"I am Valerdon," says the warrior.

"We are the Five," Belaroth says. "We have come together in this place and time to pass judgment on you and your companions."

I swallow, this is so not what I expected.

"Are you just statues then?" Whisper asks, fearless as always. This time all five do chortle.

"No, Whisper of clan Shifter," says Belaroth. "These are merely puppets we use for judgment. We remain on our separate worlds for all time."

"I've never seen you in my world," Whisper accuses, looking at Belaroth.

"We each rule our world in our own way," Belaroth says. "I am well aware of the Bartendor clan along with many others. I let you achieve balance and harmony without me."

"Enough of the pleasantries," says Valerdon his voice like a whip, stamping his spear in emphasis. "I want this matter resolved now."

Pointing the spear at me Valerdon says, "Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth, you stand accused of breaking the most sacred law along with the deaths of over twenty Kiraten."

"What law?" I blurt.

"The ancient law forbidding the interbreeding of different creations. Not since the dragons have our gifts have intermingled so." Belaroth says.

"You're accusing Jerry of being born?" Sarah says, outraged.

Damn, well I'm pretty sure I'm guilt of that.

"Essentially," Palentor says. "Fear not child, for you are my creation and will be returning to Fomoria. The matter of Jerry Price is a different matter. It concerns all here, and I alone cannot decide."

"I won't let you harm him," Whisper says in a snarl.

Belaroth gives him a warm smile that looks radiant on her foxy features. "I would expect nothing less of you, Whisper of clan Shifter. But the decision is not yours. Now remain silent."

"The boy cannot be guilty for sins of father," Palentor says. "He is mostly my creation and I should have jurisdiction over him."

"That will not do," Belaroth says. "He has three of the five in him and is a matter for all to judge."

"The boy should die," Melephos says. "Let me kill him now and end the matter."

"You would say that, Melephos," Belaroth says. "The boy has thwarted your disciple's actions on the five worlds."

"Solarkar's actions are irrelevant," Melephos says dismissively.

"Really?" Palentor says. "What is he doing on my world then? We have asked you before and you still refuse to answer."

"I don't need to answer to you, weakling!" Melephos says, glaring at Palentor. "I do what I will with my subjects."

"Solarkar is mine," Valerdon objects. "Give him to me, Melephos, and I'll give you this boy."

I stiffen. "Solarkar is unrelated to this matter and you do not have the right to exchange the boy," Belaroth says.

"True enough," Valerdon admits heatedly. Turning to me he continues. "The boy cannot be allowed to live. In time there is no telling how dangerous he might become. He already killed plenty of my Kiraten and such cannot be forgiven."

"The boy's shadow killed them," Palentor corrects.

"The shadow is part of him," Valerdon counters haughtily. "You know this as well, Palentor."

"I would see this corruption for myself," Shalarom says.

"Oh, great ones," Yawrith says, trembling slightly. "That is a dangerous course of action. Never have I seen such corruption before."

"Yes, so I heard. That is why I want to see it," Shalarom says. "I can contain it."

"It would put things into a better perspective," Belaroth adds.

"The boy is evil. His shadow is an extension of that. Go ahead and show it to all here," Valerdon says.

I want to cringe away as Shalarom approaches but I hold still, knowing resisting would get me nothing. He kneels down and with surprising gentleness removes my pendant. Straightening, he holds it close to his face, a happy little smile on his features. Closing his hand around the pendant there's a bright flash of light and then darkness erupts out between his fingers. Valerdon hisses as the darkness collects near me, forming a dark silhouette.

My shadow is pissed beyond all reason and it leaks over to me, filling the part of me that was missing. It's like I can breathe again. Not noticing the statues the first things my shadow sees are Yawrith and Tarith kneeling nearby.

"You!" My shadow cries and before I can do anything he stretches forth, trying to smoother them. With a raised hand Shalarom gestures at my shadow, who freezes in place. A ripple spreads across his black surface and again my shadow surges forward like a gear slipping only to be stopped a second time. Shalarom now has a very wide smile on his face.

"Never have I seen such corruption!" He says in a very affectionate tone. Turning to Palentor he gives a respectful nod. From the surprised looks of the others this hasn't happened before. "Never could I have created such. You do good work with your creations, Palentor. It's even greater than the fires of the first creations!"

Palentor remains silent, studying me and my shadow. Finally realizing he can't reach his targets my shadow calms, returning to his standard silhouette near me. Looking up, my shadow studies each of the Five in turn, lingering the longest on Shalarom.

"What the hell is going on?" My shadow says.

"I just wanted a look at you, my brilliant corruption," Shalarom says.

"We've all seen enough," Valerdon says. "Put that filth back where it came from."

"Who are you calling filth, you rusty statue!" My shadow says, growing significantly larger than the Five statues.

Shalarom simply laughs in delight, "Oh, how wonderful you are! But time to go back for now." With a pulse of light the box activates, sucking my shadow into darkness.

"Not again!" My shadow screams, trying to stretch away.

Shalarom frowns and again the light pulses in his hand, drawing my shadow toward it. With a final pulse of light my shadow is sealed inside once more. Looking at the pendant again Shalarom shakes his head.

"Marvelous. Even the shadow wood pendant had difficulty restraining it," Shalarom says as he replaces it around my neck.

"All the more reason for the boy to die," Valerdon says. "Such evil cannot be allowed to spread."

"Why not?" Shalarom says. "It would be so much fun."

"I see where your shadow gets his personality," Whisper says quietly.

"Yeah, no kidding," I reply.

"The boy aside, what of his sire?" Belaroth says. "We had thought the abomination dead. Now it appears he might still live. Shalarom, is this your doing?"

"I am blameless," Shalarom says and from his grin I'm not sure if he is lying or not. He hasa politician's smile, meaning everything or nothing. "I too had thought him dead. Perhaps he had sired the boy before his demise at the hands of the Kiraten."

"Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth, step forth," Valerdon says. Standing up Yawrith approached her god trembling with a mixture of awe and fear.

"You were assigned the task of dealing with the abomination. Is he dead or not?"

"I believe so. He fell between the worlds as we pursued him," Yawrith says.

Valerdon nods in acceptance, "What of the boy then? Did he sire him after his death or before?"

"I'm not sure, oh great Valerdon," Yawrith says.

"How old are you, boy?" Valerdon demands.

"Eighteen," I say.

"That tells us nothing," Palentor says. "The gestation period could be significantly different due to his mixed blood. Only the mother could tell us and she is no more."

"If the father is dead then we must ensure that the spread of his taint ends with the boy," Valerdon says. "He must die."

"We didn't kill the other," Palentor points out.

"Much to my shame," Valerdon says.

"I think we have enough discussion. Let the voting begin," Belaroth says. I wait, holding my breath

"The boy shall live," Palentor says. "He has fought against Solarkar and has done nothing but good. The death of the Kiraten was in self-defense only."

"The boy shall die," Melephos says. "The spawn of the abomination should not be allowed to cross the worlds and he sees fits."

"The boy shall live," Shalarom says. "I love his shadow and can't wait to see what he will become given time."

"The boy shall die," Valerdon says angrily. "He has killed my Kiraten and is a sign of doom for us all."

All eyes turn to Belaroth who has her eyes closed, deep in thought. "The boy shall live," Belaroth says at last and Valerdon swears in anger. "The boy has helped restore balance in Elysium by his actions against Solarkar. I had at one time, thought he was the one responsible for the actions there. Watching him through my many eye servants, I even tried to kill him. Now I see I judged him too quickly and wish to redeem that decision now."

Memories flash at Belaroth's words. The watcher that saw me through reality the day my mother died along with the creature that shifted me to its world to kill me. "That was you!" I blurt.

"Yes, Jerry of house Price, I foolishly assumed since you could shift that you must be working with Solarkar who I have been hunting. I was mistaken and now wish remedy that by sparing your life."

Sparing my life...that's right, three of them said for me to live. I feel a wide smile bloom across my face and Sarah gives a whoop, throwing her arms around me as much as she could while still in shackles.

"Do no celebrate yet, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth," Valerdon says, a nasty grin on his face. "Your life may be spared but you are still in my world. Here you will stay until you die of old age. I will not have you free."

"Valerdon..." Belaroth begins.

"The rules are clear!" He thunders. "The bastard of Primehouse Ageroth came here of his own accord and here he shall remain until the worlds collide!"

"That's very petty of you, Valerdon," Palentor says.

"Perhaps you simply cannot see the wisdom of it, Palentor," Melephos sneers, looking far too happy.

"What's going on?" I say. One minute I was safe, now...

"Valerdon is enacting another law," Shalarom says, glaring at him. "He has the right if you are in his world to contain you here as long as he is able too."

"The boy has the Razoha in him. He won't go anywhere. I'll stick him with the other," Valerdon says.

"Hopefully there will be no accident," Melephos says gleefully, his fat face jiggling. "What a shame it would be to lose both at once. Accidents do happen though, perhaps from an over zealous guard..."

"Enough, Melephos," Belaroth says and Melephos simply grins again. Valerdon however, looks thoughtful.

"What about the others?" Palentor says, looking a Sarah. "The woman Sarah Clifford is entirely of my world and was brought here without her consent. You cannot retain her here against her expressed desire."

"I did come here..." Sarah begins.

"No, you didn't Sarah Clifford," Palentor interrupts. "Solarkar brought you to Elysium and then Jerry brought you to Inti, never asking your permission. You can return to Fomoria. If you stay you will be entirely in Valerdon's power."

"I won't go!" Sarah says, squeezing me tightly. "I love him." I feel my heart ache and nearly break with those words.

"I believe you do, child," Palentor says. "But I have need of you on Fomoria. Solarkar is still alive and making his drug for reason I do not yet understand." He gives Melephos an angry glare. "You have seen me and much else. I need you to work against him on our world."

Tears leak from Sarah's eyes as she battles between wanting to go home and fight Solarkar, and staying with me. I feel my own eyes filling, blurring the chamber around me.

"Sarah," I say. "Please go. I will find a way back to you. I don't know what Solarkar is doing but its evil and someone must stop him."

"You will never leave my world, bastard of Primehouse Ageroth," Valerdon sneers. I ignore him and that seems to piss him off more than any response I could have given.

"Can't Solarkar simply shift me again?" Sarah says. She is looking for any excuse to stay with me and I feel the tears fall at those words. Could my heart ache any more than it does right now?

"I will provide you with a talisman to prevent you from shifting without your consent, child," Palentor says, smiling down upon her. "Solarkar will not be able to take you again unless he wishes to face you in battle."

There are no excuses left. Sarah, her face wet, gives me a long kiss and then whispers in my ear, "You better come back or I'll come here and get you." With more pain that I thought possible she pulls away from me, walking to Palentor who, with a flick of his finger, undoes her chains.

"Whisper of clan Shifter, if it is your wish we shall return you to Elysium and you can rejoin the Bartendor clan there," Belaroth says.

Whisper shakes his head. "I will stay with Shifter," Whisper says and Valerdon glowers at the name.

"I will not allow that," Valerdon says. "Be gone from my world never to return."

Whisper snarls at him, baring his sharp teeth.

"It is Valerdon's right to banish you from Inti. If you insist on staying it will be in his power to kill you if he desires. The same holds true for the woman. He would surely do so simply to hurt Jerry of clan Shifter," Belaroth says. "Will you not come with me now?"

Whisper, looking more heartbroken than when his mother died, turns his very blue eyes to me. "What should I do, Shifter?"

I hadn't thought it was possible for me to feel worse, now I know how wrong I was. Sarah and Whisper had made me feel whole and complete. Now these parts of me are being ripped away by a cruel surgeon.

"Go with Sarah," I say. "She will need help against Solarkar and there is no one I trust more to protect her than you."

"I will go with Sarah of clan Clifford," Whisper says, his voice trembling.

"Clan Shifter," Sarah says, tears in her eyes. "I am of clan Shifter."

"I will allow this," Belaroth says, looking at Palentor.

Palentor gives her a respectful bow. "I will gladly accept Whisper into my world."

"It has been decided then," Belaroth says, and with a gesture Whisper's chains fall off. Pressing his face close to mine, I snuggle into his soft fur for what may be the last time before he trots over to join Sarah by Palentor.

"You'd better find us!" Sarah yells.

"Come back to us, Shifter!" Whisper cries.

"I will!" I promise and suddenly they are gone, shifted away back to earth, Fomoria.

I try to see them but the Razoha prevents even my gaze from crossing realities.

"You will not," Valerdon promises darkly. "Take the boy. Stick him with the other."

Yawrith and Tarith rise, gently pulling on my chains as I continue to stare at the spot where Sarah and Whisper had been. _They can't really be gone from me, can they?_ The Five return to their seats with loud creaks, becoming plain statues once more. As I near the door the realization of everything hits me. They are gone. All because of whom and what I am. Turning to Yawrith, I see her pointedly ignoring me, focused straight ahead.

"Yawrith, who is my father? What has he done to cause all this?" I ask, feeling defeated.

She doesn't answer, just keeps pulling me.

"Answer me, you bitch!" I yell and feel my pendant twitch. Stiffening at my insult, she keeps silent, not looking at me. Desperate I look to Tarith, who I am surprised to find has tears of his own in his eyes.

"Tarith, please..." I say.

"Say no more, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth," Tarith says. "The injustice done to you today is already too much for me to bear. Ask the other when you see her. She can tell all."

The rest is a fading dream to me. Everything is surreal without Sarah and Whisper. I feel unreal, tinkering on the border of nonexistence. I don't even have my shadow with me anymore. He is completely isolated around my neck. So near, yet so far away. I've lost everything. I go down corridors seeing nothing at all. I am just walking like a machine one step after another. We go outside and the fresh air does little to wake me from my nightmare. I am shoved roughly into a carriage, falling flat on my face. I can't even find the will to rise, even if my chains had allowed it. Time is immaterial to me. It could have been hours or even a day when the carriage finally stops. Nothing registers with me. Not even when my shackles are removed do I come to life. It isn't until I am shoved once again through black castle gates into a familiar looking courtyard that my senses return to me. The guards leave me alone save for a young Kiraten girl sitting cross-legged in the courtyard, wearing a soft lavender dress. She looks at me with sad purple slit-pupil eyes.

"Oh brother, not you too..." says the Shame of Valerdon.

### Chapter 20 – My Dream Girl

Brother... The words are odd, as if they are from another language. It doesn't fit my view of the world. It's a word for someone else. Someone who can't see into other worlds. One thing is clear to me. She is the other they all kept talking about. Moving forward on weak legs I sit down in front of her. Seeing her in the flesh for the first time I am surprised by the noticeable difference between her and the other Kiraten I've seen. She is darker skinned, with long pointy ears that I hadn't noticed in my dreams. Slender with a heart shaped face she has the look of a person that has experience beyond her years. Looking into her deep purple eyes I am unsure how to begin. _What do you say to a sister you never even knew existed? 'Hi sis, sorry about missing all your birthdays but you were being held prisoner in another world and the long distance on my phone bill would kill me. Much like our relatives want too.'_ Yeah that would work.

"They saw it then," the girl says, looking right at me. I already know what she means, my shadow. I nod.

The girl sighs, lowering her head. "I'm sorry, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth. I tried to conceal it from them using my own corruption. I thought if I set off enough false alarms they wouldn't be aware that there were two of us. Morith came by yesterday and told me all. I had no idea your corruption was so strong."

Millions of questions buzz around my head, all fighting to be asked. All take a back seat to the one that landed me here.

"Who are you and who is our father?" I ask.

"I'm Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth," she says. "Our father is Dalvine of Primehouse Ageroth. Only a few remember that name. He is known as..."

"The Abomination," I finish. "And please, call me Jerry. I don't like that Primehouse crap."

She pauses, looking a bit shocked, then gives me a warm smile. "I will, if you will call me Sarrow."

"Sure. Sarrow, please, what can you tell me about our father."

"Our father was the first," Sarrow says, closing her eyes.

"The first what?" I ask.

"The first blending of different creations since the time of the dragons," she says, opening her eyes. "He is of Valerdon and Shalarom. I've never met our father, the same as you. I was told the tale often in my youth. It started the last great war between the people of those two worlds."

"The story is told as such. Long after the fall, a young, adventurous woman named Pahlice of Primehouse Ageroth went forth to do battle in other worlds. In Inti she had no equals among the Kiraten and her thirst for battle could not be quenched. Across the five worlds she battled everything, from the fierce creatures in Elysium to being known as a warrior goddess on Fomoria. Not content she sought out the Kiraten's greatest enemies, the Drow in Shalarom's world of Pandedonium."

"The Drow!" I exclaim. She can't be serious. From my time in the library I had become very familiar with the creatures of legend. The black skinned dark elves had always been one of my favorites.

"You have heard of them. Not surprising, using the tower many species that do not have the ability to shift explored the worlds before it was sealed. Shalarom has created many creatures of corruption. Some so terrible that they have no name," Sarrow says.

"You mean the tower of Babel?" I ask, remembering the dark structure.

"Yes, that tower. Created by the Five after the worlds separated," she says. "What do you know of it?"

"Well, according to our fables it was a tower that was made to reach heaven," I say.

"Mostly correct, it did reach heaven. If you interpret heaven as the five worlds," Sarrow says, giving me a little smile. "With a link to the five worlds, cities naturally grew around the tower in each world and commerce began. This did not last and various worlds began fighting. Then the fall happened and the Kiraten fled back to Inti, taking famed cities they constructed with them. All save for Babel, which was destroyed and rebuilt in Inti around the tower. Only the Primehouses retained the ability to shift and the tower has not been used for a long time after."

My mind races as possibilities expand before me. _This tower connects all five worlds? Does it still exist on Fomoria? Why was it destroyed along with the cities?_ Expressing these questions earns a smirk from Sarrow.

"You wish to know much, my brother," she says. "You want to know of our family history and that of all five worlds as well?"

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling embarrassed.

"There is nothing to feel sorry for. Your thirst for knowledge is refreshing rather than the Kiraten's lust for battle." She glances to the sky. Joining her I see the twin suns setting and notice for the first the guards looking down upon us.

"I will finish telling you of our family. The rest will be for another day."

She gives a gentle cough and continues. "Pahlice went to Pandedonium to do battle with the Drow for it was said that the power of Shalarom is strong in them. This is where her story ends for she was never seen among the Kiraten again. All thought her slain at the hands of the Drow, until Dalvine of Primehouse Ageroth appeared, claiming what he called his birthright. Primehouse Ageroth itself. Appearing to the Kiraten by shifting into their meeting chamber it was immediately apparent that he was of their kind but more as well. Black as the Drow he had the Kiraten green hair and l eyes but his was of deepest purple. He stood proud and tall before the speakers, dressed in soft living flames that did not burn him. There, in front of all, he declared, 'I am Dalvine of Primehouse Ageroth, born of the Drow and Kiraten. I have come to take my place as speaker for my Primehouse and to unite the people of the two worlds.' Of course, the Kiraten would have none of it, obeying Valerdon's wishes in all things. They saw this half breed upstart as an 'abomination' breaking the rule of the five and challenging Valerdon himself."

"Didn't Shalarom care about the rule being broken?" I ask.

"No. Shalarom is of chaos and corruption. The mixing of the bloods was of great amusement to him, along with the war that followed. The Kiraten, believing themselves to be the greatest of all creations welcomed the challenged that spewed forth from the tower after being dormant for so long. That was until the fighting actually began. Convinced of their own superiority the Kiraten were not ready for beings whose own shadows would be used against them."

Shadows...I grab my pendant, feeling a small twinge from my own trapped inside.

"The war waged for many years, with large parts of Babel being destroyed. Valerdon gave his servants shadow wood to be used against the creations of Shalarom and the tides of battle changed."

"Shalarom didn't help his side?" I ask, not liking how Valerdon continuously interfered even for good reasons.

"Shalarom did not, for he knew that the Drow could never take Babel for any sustained period of time. It was all entertainment to him," Sarrow says.

"Why not?"

"The world of Pandedonium would call the Drow back, making taking the city impossible to hold without extreme measures being taken."

"I heard Solarkar say the world would call them back before," I say. "What does that mean?"

Sarrow looks at me, head cocked slightly as if she was trying to figure out if I was joking with her. "Have you not shifted beings before? Living creatures that are shifted are compelled to return to their worlds after a certain amount of time. The act of crossing the worlds creates imbalance in their aura which can erode their health and kill them if not corrected by returning to their home world. The Kiraten can correct this with powerful sigil stones but even so, the effect is only temporary. They must spend an equal amount of time in their own world to remove the imbalance."

"That's not true," I say. "I shifted Whisper to my world from Elysium over six years ago with no troubles at all. The change in size took me by surprise but he hasn't had any issues."

Startled, Sarrow gapes at me like I had done the impossible. "Six years? Such a thing cannot be," she looks hard at me. "You say he changed his size?"

"Yes, you didn't see him but much bigger than I am. I rode him all the way here but in my world when I shift him he's so small he can ride on my shoulder," I say.

"Amazing," Sarrow says, her eyes burrowing into mine. "Do you realize what you have been doing?"

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, I just shrug, "Shifting."

"You are," Sarrow agrees. "But you are doing something much more. Something that I thought only the Five could do. You are changing the reality of what you shift. You are making it of the world you shift it to. This Whisper didn't have to return to his world because his world was now yours."

"I was changing reality?" I say, stunned.

She glances around nervously but we are alone except for the guards high above. "Yes, you are. I would keep this knowledge to yourself, Jerry. For this single ability Valerdon might destroy you despite the others' decision."

"Don't the five already know that?" I ask. "They knew a lot already when I saw them."

"The Five are aware of many events on their respective worlds. What they choose to share with each other is something else entirely. Palentor and Belaroth might be aware of what you are capable of but did not share it with the others for their own designs. I'm sorry you had to confront them. Such a meeting can be perilous."

"You can say that again," I say, thinking back to the five statues. "Is there a place like that on each world?"

"I do not know, brother," Sarrow says. "I suspect not. Palentor gave his creations great wisdom to rule themselves and does not directly interfere. Melephos consumes his creations and his world is mostly empty. Belaroth shows no favor, treating all equally. Shalarom simply doesn't care. Valerdon's Kiraten are the best caretakers. They have a close relationship with their god and obey his will. The chamber is often used by Valerdon to convey his wishes. The Five do not meet until a matter that concerns all arises."

"Return to your rooms!" Comes a booming voice from high above and we both jump.

"We will continue our talks on the morrow. I'll show you to your room," Sarrow says. Rising to her feet she leads me down halls series of short halls and I can't help but notice the lack of guards.

"Where're all the guards?" I say, thinking of my old mental institution.

"There is no need. There are but two ways out. Over the walls and through the gate and both are watched at all times. If we try to leave we will be killed, which is why I'm sure they leave it so tempting."

"Here is your room, brother," Sarrow says, opening a door at the end of a short corridor. "I shall see you in the morning. You are free to wander as you please, but at night be careful unless you have permission." With that she turns around, opening her own door right across the hall and leaving me alone.

The room is spacious and nothing like the cell I was detained in before my judgment. A comfortable bed and wardrobe rest in the corners with spider webs on the ceilings. Like the entire castle, the room has a hard stone floor and unyielding walls. I do have a small window that has a view of the courtyard. Falling onto the bed a small puff of dust erupts around me, irritating my nose. My need to clean fills me, so I spend the next several hours cleaning as best I can. Once that is done, my thoughts I naturally turn to Sarah and Whisper. Feeling the tears come, I know that I've lost them.

The next day I am actually surprised with breakfast which included a plate of raw vegetables that taste surprisingly good. Then that is it. Nothing else is required of me so I spend all my time with Sarrow as she fills me in our family history.

"So, what happened after the Kiraten took back Babel?" I ask, picking up where we left off yesterday.

"Not much really. The Five tired of the wars and the problems caused by the tower, so they created a powerful seal. The seal prevents the tower from traversing the worlds and cannot be broken unless a majority of the ancient ones will it. That was the last great war."

"Things didn't end there, did they?" I say.

"You are correct. Father, feeling cheated of his destiny, began moving in secret, recruiting others to his cause. They say he wanted to conquer all five worlds. His followers grew among the Drow and even the Kiraten. They say he went mad, the power of his corruption driving the sanity from him. In his later years he took my mother by force, intent that his seed spread and his legacy live on. She was Galdwin of Primehouse Ageroth. He kept her imprisoned until my birth. I cannot fathom the horrors she must have endured. Discovering his intentions the Kiraten rescued my mother and Yawrith of Primehouse Ageroth was given the duty of hunting our father down no matter what world he resided in. They found him trying to undo the seals on the towers and during the resulting battle fell from the stairs into the endless void."

So my father is dead. The news isn't a surprise but still I wonder what I should be feeling. Anger or perhaps some type of validation at his death, I just feel nothing.

"What about your mother?" I ask, then in a softer tone I add. "What about mine?"

"After she was rescued, the shame of baring the abomination's offspring was too great and she killed herself. She would have ended my life as well if it weren't for Morith who shielded me from harm. Beseeching the judgment of the Five they granted me mercy. I was given the title Shame of Valerdon and allowed to live here until the end of my days."

"Not much of a mercy," I say.

"Better than the alternative," she counters. _Ok, good point there_. "As for your mother, I'm sorry I do not know. I was unaware of your existence until the night we first met through our shared corruption. After the episode I secretly had Morith investigate your existence. I was given the Razoha long ago so I was unable to search you out, brother."

"Yeah, Solarkar gave me one of those too. What about your shadow?" I say, my voice low.

"My shadow is not great like yours, brother. It cannot stay away from me for long and tires easily. It stays inside me until I command it. The corruption has gifted me in other ways. I can feel and touch other corruption at times when the mind is open if the distance is not too great. My connection to you through our shared blood allows me to reach out to you easily when you are closer to Inti."

I think about the dreams and nod. Remembering the last add, "In the last dream you were being tortured. Why?"

"There are Kiraten known as farseers who specialize at detecting corruption from the last war. They fear corruption might still plague us. To mask your presence I was using my own corruption to run interference. I was not strong enough and they became aware of what I was doing. They set a trap using my own power to draw you in. Morith found what they were doing and saved me from being killed. He invoked that I didn't break the conditions of my imprisonment and the Five would frown upon the action."

I lower my voice conspiratorially, "How can we escape from here?" Surely she should have some plan in the works and maybe I could help.

"Brother, there is no way out. We shall stay here until our deaths or the worlds collide," Sarrow says sullenly.

"I can't accept that," I say, shaking my head. The thought off never seeing Whisper or Sarah again is abhorrent.

"I shall show you around but you will find nothing," Sarrow says standing. All that day we explore every nook and cranny of the castle. She patiently waits as I desperately search for secret doors, trying to push anything that could be a hidden lever. Nothing. Days pass into weeks as I try to think of any escape plan that doesn't end with being impaled on a spear.

With nothing else to do besides planning pathetic escape attempts, Sarrow and I do some sparring. She surprises me with her skill and grace, beating me soundly each time. I begin to wonder if I could ever beat a girl in a fight.

Resting one day in the fourth week of my imprisonment under the shade of a tree of the courtyard with Sarrow, I ask something that has been bothering me.

"I was told that Solarkar had a lot of potential as a shifter. Is that true?" I ask.

"Yes, he is the greatest shifter in over three hundred years. His power surpasses the imagination," Sarrow says sipping water from a small brown water skin before passing it to me.

Taking a deep pull I handd it back to her. "Really? I thought he was rather weak. Even after shifting over the entire Bartendor clan and Sarah I could still hold me own against him. That's not including all the younglings I shifted." In our time together I told her everything. It's a relief to have it all out in the open. Besides, neither of us is going anywhere. Sarrow has a natural curiosity that I find most Kiraten lack. It's refreshing as we ponder the mysteries of vision and Solarkar's actions.

"Weak," she scoffs, patting my head. "Oh little brother, if only you knew."

Much to both our surprises I found out that she is nearly thirty years old! Apparently the mixed blood had slowed her aging to a crawl, even for a Kiraten. I wonder if I will live a long time or just the standard amount for a human.

I shrug, "I wasn't impressed at all. If I was rested I could easily beat him a hundred times over."

"I do not doubt it. Even with a Vorscha assisting him, the disturbance you cause in reality aids your power," Sarrow says. "Your very presence weakens the reality around you."

My heart stops and the blood drains from the face at the word vorscha. I had heard that before. It's the name Solarkar used for the bugs used in vision. I had forgotten it until now.

"What are the Vorscha?" I say, my voice suddenly hoarse.

"Symbiotic creatures that the Primehouses use to boost their shifting potential," Sarrow says.

_Solarkar is growing shifting bugs and giving them to humans? Why? It's not like he could..._ The final piece falls into place and I just stare at Sarrow, horrorstruck. _He can't be..._

Noticing my sudden change in mood Sarrow looks intently at me, "Brother, what is wrong?"

_No... it can't be, but I have to check._ "Sarrow, you said you feel a disturbance around me. What does it feel like?" I ask.

She frowns for a moment before answering. "A bit nauseating, like the room is spinning. I've gotten used to it now so I don't even notice anymore. You were unaware of it?"

"Yes," I say. "How come Tarith or Solice didn't tell me? For that matter, why didn't the Five?"

"They are not of the Primehouses, so they can't feel the reality around you. The Five might not be aware of it. The statues they use at Babel are simply puppets, limited in ability and senses. If you stood before any all would become transparent."

Now, the most important question, "Why do you think I make such a disturbance?"

Again she frowns at my tone but answers. "I suspect it is your human nature," Sarrow says. "Before the fall the Kiraten took many human slaves, never sending them home. They allowed the imbalance to kill them before taking new ones. Treating them like disposable tools. In order to fight this, Palentor changed humans along with the world itself. Humans became anchors in reality. Most Kiraten could not shift one at all. Even the world itself repels shifters. I suspect because you are part Drow and Kiraten the opposite holds true. Instead of resisting shifting you actually create a disturbance around you, weakening the barrier between worlds making shifting easier. I imagine any shifter near you would see a remarkable increase in their power." She smiles but I feel everything collapse.

I stand up, angry at myself for not realizing it earlier. "Shit!" I scream, hitting the tree I am under. The pendant around my neck comes to life like a Mexican jumping bean. I ignore it. The truth of what is happening on my world overwhelms me. It might already be too late.

"What is it?" Sarrow says, alarmed.

"Solarkar is trying to bring Melephos to my world," I state as fact.

For a long moment Sarrow just stands there shocked before bursting out laughing. "Jerry, such a thing is impossible! The Five cannot cross the worlds! Even an army of shifters couldn't move one for more than a few days before the world called it back. Such large powerful beings are strongly repulsed by any world other than their own. It was designed this way since the worlds separated."

"It's the drug vision. I had forgotten it until now, but Solarkar is using vorscha to make it. He's giving it to humans." Sarrow frowns, still not convinced. "I felt it the night my mother died. I had thought it was the fact I was so scared at the time but that's not it at all. The world was spinning and I felt nauseous. It's the same as you feel around me. Vision changed those people not into monsters but into pockets of disturbed reality. It's not about them killing each other. Hell that is probably just a undesirable side affect"

"Jerry..." Sarrow begins.

"Think about it," I say, interrupting her. "What if there were a dozen beings with the same disturbance in reality that I cause all right here. What would happen?"

Sarrow chews her lip, "I don't know. It's possible that the barrier between worlds might weaken a great amount."

"Now, imagine thousands of humans in a small geographic location all exhibiting the same disturbance," I say.

Sarrow's blue skin goes nearly white. "The worlds might actually start permanently merging at places."

"Then Solarkar, aided by that disturbance, could shift Melephos," I say.

"It might work," Sarrow concedes. "Melephos' world of Sheol is the closest world to yours. Even so Melephos couldn't leave the area, he would be overwhelmed by the imbalance and would have to return in a few days."

"What if he brought the people with him?" I ask.

"I suppose but if they are killed...By Valerdon's wrath, you're right! He could consume them still living, fusing them into his body. The changed humans would stabilize Melephos outside the disturbance zone and he could stay indefinitely."

I nod my head. "Solarkar gets his kingdom and Melephos gets a new world to consume."

"This is bad," Sarrow says.

"Let's go see the Five and the Primehouses. They must know of this," I say.

"Brother, they will not listen to us."

"What?" I blurt. "But we know what Solarkar is doing! Surely they will want to stop him!"

"The Kiraten will not care about Solarkar's actions on another world. It is insignificant to them."

"No, they will listen. They must!" I cry and Sarrow simply shakes her head sadly. Running to the nearest wall I crane my neck up cupping my hands around my mouth.

"Hey guard, I need to talk with someone! I know what Solarkar is doing!"

The shadowy figures above pause for a moment before lifting something high in the air. Squinting into the sky I try to see what they are doing when I get a face full of the chamber pot they emptied on me.

"Shit!" I yell, wiping the waste from my face.

"Yes, it is," Sarrow says, wrinkling her nose. "I told you they would not listen."

"Go talk with that, Bastard of Primehouse Ageroth!" Comes booming laughter from above. The contents of another chamber pot rain down upon Sarrow, but she nimbly jumps aside.

"Clean yourself," Sarrow says once we are safely out of range. "I will talk to one of the more friendly guards and summon Morith. If anyone will listen, he will."

After I wash up I find Sarrow. She tells me she had to summon this Morith but it could be several days before he would get the message and perhaps more to arrive. I don't want to wait. I can't wait. Images of a giant, monstrous figure, worse than Godzilla, rampaging over my home, threatening Sarah and Whisper keep intruding on my mind. So I pester the guards, dodging tossed waste. It isn't until stones are being thrown that I give up. The days pass slowly and though Sarrow rightly points out that there is nothing we can do I feel my world's dooms clock draw ever nearer to midnight. On the eighth day Morith comes, and all hope I have fails.

Morith is an elderly Kiraten with a long, flowing green beard and bald head that seems common as Kiraten age. Wearing robes, he has a silver chain necklace and other finery about his person. His blue skin is weather-worn, giving it nearly a purple tinge, especially around old scars from a lifetime of battles. His eyes are bright and aware as he enters the courtyard with two guards just behind him. The sneer he gives us is not a welcoming sign.

"Shame of Valerdon and Bastard of Primehouse Ageroth, why have you summoned me?" Morith says in a bored voice, suggesting he has more important fungi collecting he'd rather be doing.

"Thank you for coming, Morith of Primehouse Ageroth," Sarrow says, dipping low and I follow her example. "We have urgent tidings for you on the actions of Solarkar."

"How did you arrive at this knowledge being confined here?" Morith says warily, the wrinkles in the forehead deepening.

"I have spent long hours with my brother discussing his many adventures. Only now, after long converse, have the waters cleared and Solarkar's intentions been found," Sarrow says.

"The actions of Solarkar are now of little importance," Morith sniffs dismissively. "Whatever his actions, he does not threaten Kiraten lands or likely ever will. He will remain exiled and the matter is considered closed."

"Please, you must listen," I say desperately. "Solarkar is going to shift Melephos to my world. He must be stopped!"

"An audacious plan," Morith muses, looking critically at me. "Even if it's true, that is a matter for Palentor and your kind, not for us. You will stay here until you expire and that is all."

"You can't..." I begin but am interrupted at a nod from Morith. Suddenly, one of the two silent guards surges forth, kicking me hard in the stomach. Bending over, I tumble to the ground as Sarrow watches passively. On the ground Morith comes over, spitting on me as I struggle to my feet clutching my stomach.

"Bastard of Primehouse Ageroth, do not think we don't know your plan," Morith says. "You intend to escape over the walls tonight, hoping to save your female friend. Don't worry I will talk with the Primehouse about assassinating her." It's like my heart has been kicked this time and I feel my pendant nearly fly off my chest. A red haze seems to fill me at his words. He can't be serious.

Scoffing at me Morith turns to Sarrow. "I have relocated the spare guards to the walls, Shame of Valerdon. You shall not escape this night."

"Of course not, Morith of Primehouse Ageroth, my place is here with my brother," she says, bowing low.

"Don't send for me again," Morith says. With a twirl that sends his robes fluttering as he leaves, the guards trailing behind him.

"He was your hope?" I say coughing. "He was worse than all the others."

"He can't show that he is my ally and yours as well," Sorrow says.

"Ally? With friends like that who needs enemies," I say.

"Do not be concerned for your companions on Fomoria. That was a message is all," Sarrow said making sure we are relatively alone. "Morith wishes for us to take action this night. He also referred to the extra guards. He only used that word to speak of the guards in the old tunnels connecting this castle to Babel and the Primehouses near the tower."

"What?" I nearly shout before lowering my voice again. "There is a tunnel out of here?"

"Yes, but it goes into the heart of the Kiraten stronghold. The entire area is protected from shifting and the Primehouses would kill us on sight. During the war it was heavily used to launch surprise attacks to retake Babel from this stronghold. There are a series of heavily barred doors from the opposite side that block the way. Even if the guards are removed, the reinforced doors cannot be opened. It is a poor route of escape." Sarrow closes her eyes in thought. "I have noticed your pendant twitch when you are agitated. Just now it nearly flew off your chest. Does that happen often?"

"When I get mad mostly," I say rubbing my stomach. _Man that really hurt_.

"Normal corruption could not even hope to do so much. If you feed all your fear and hate into the pendant, perhaps your shadow could free itself. Even so, what good would that do?" Sarrow muses.

Excited for the first time in weeks I begin to see what Morith really did for us, the idea blossoming in my head. "My shadow could open the doors in the tunnels. It would be easy if the guards are gone. Then we could take it all the way to the tower and go back to my world!"

Sarrow shakes her head slowly. "It will not work, brother. I told you the tower has been sealed and only three of the Five could..." She suddenly stops, her eyes going wide. "You could unlock the tower!"

"Me," I say stupidly.

"Yes, you," Sarrow confirms. "You have three of the Five in you. You could unseal the way."

"But I don't know how," I say.

"I do not know how either, but there is a chance! The first chance I've had since my birth to be free. Surely you wish to return to your world as well?"

"Of course," I say.

"Then free your shadow and we'll leave tonight," Sarrow says excitedly looking like a child experiencing her first Christmas.

"But how?" I whine. I feel so useless.

"Gather all your emotions and give them to your shadow tonight in your room. Please brother, this is our only chance."

"Ok, I'll try," I promise, having no clue what to do.

The remaining hours until night stretch into long periods of unbearable waiting. It's like I had itching powder in my undies. When I hear the call to bed I eagerly go to my room. Changing into a set of black robes I sit cross-legged on the bed, frowning at my pendant. Sarrow said the reason they gave it to me is that it is a part of me. It could potentially leak out if I get too far from it. I was plainly told after my first day here that if I didn't wear it at all times, I would be killed, assuming I was trying to free my shadow. So it remained around my neck, giving only slight jerks now and again. _Can I really free him?_ I think back at how my shadow always enjoyed my anger, saying how much stronger he felt afterwards. _Is that it? Can I free him by getting mad?_ Well, I have plenty to get mad about, that's certain.

I remember my mother's harsh names for me. I try recalling her 'boyfriends' treatment of me. When that doesn't work I drift forward in time to school where it was hell on earth for me, with daily torments of all sorts. My pendant dances in my hand but that is all. _More. I need something more._ I think about the day my mother died. I think about Solarkar and all he's done. It isn't until an image of the future comes to me of Solarkar holding a knife to Sarah's throat that something happens. Suddenly, a soft crack rings through my room, like someone dropping a mug of coffee. Looking down I see a small fissure in the pendant's lock, just above the sigil. _Just a bit more_. Holding onto the image of Sarah and Solarkar I feel my anger reach new heights as I imagine the blade sinking into her neck and a flood of crimson spreading across her clothes. With a resounding explosion the pendant flings open, blackness erupting from it.

"Finally free!" Shadow exclaims, forming a dark silhouette near me.

I have never been so glad to see him before and with his freedom I feel suddenly whole. Not complete, I won't feel like that until I am back with Sarah and Whisper, but something has definitely been filled.

"Welcome back. I found a way home but I need your help," I say closing the pendant and putting into my robes.

"Help?" My shadow says as if the idea is absurd. I actually missed his attitude a bit. "Why should I help you? This is all your fault to begin with."

"You can kill any Kiraten that gets in our way," I offer.

My shadow laughs and the sound is so evil that the walls seem to cringe away from it. "Now that is what I like to hear! When do we begin?"

"Now," I say grinning. "Let's get my sister and get out."

"Sister?" My shadow says, startled.

"It's a long story lets go. I'll fill you in on the way," I say. Opening the door I see Sarrow there already, pale and wearing a thick lavender robe that could completely hide her features.

"I felt a great corruption far more powerful than the dragons. Was it..." Sarrow says then stops, looking at the dark silhouette just behind me. "... your shadow."

"So, you're the sister," my shadow says, getting right up close to her. She flinches as he looks her over, swirling around her like a cloud of gnats. In response her own shadow surges out of her mouth and eyes. The two dark beings study each other for a moment before separating. Sarrow coughs as hers goes back inside.

"It's weak," my shadow comments. "But serviceable, I suppose. Perhaps I could teach it how to be much more."

"That's not necessary," Sarrow says, shrinking back.

"Oh, but it is, little girl," my shadow says, giving her his trademark evil grin.

"Come on, let's move," I say. Sarrow, still disturbed by my shadow, quickly takes the lead.

The night is cool and dark, with shadows including my own stretching along the empty corridors. I keep excepting a platoon of guards to appear to skewer us at any moment but nothing happens. Perhaps this Morith really did put so many guards on the walls that we could escape effortlessly. I'm not so delusional that I think this likely, but one can hope. Sarrow said the tunnel entrance is deep inside the keep at the center. There are usually some guards there but never many. After all, this would lead us further into enemy territory, not away.

"The entrance is beyond this next room," Sarrow says in a low hush, as we press tightly to the wall near a door a short distance away. "We might be able to make a distraction and lure any guards out. Then we could..."

"Forget that! I've had enough hiding," my shadow says rather too loudly. Without waiting he slips under the door. For a second I hear nothing and I am sincerely hoping the room is empty.

"Surprise, motherfuckers!" My shadow says and I know it isn't. A few cries of alarm then a sound like tums dissolving in water. A moment later the door opens with my shadow leaning casually in the doorway.

"Well, you coming or not?" My shadow says, grinning. Shuddering, Sarrow rushes past my shadow, never looking at him and immediately going to the back of the room. Entering I see this might at one time have been a royal greeting area with tall ceilings and old tapestries hanging on the walls. Now it is a makeshift break room, with tables and various goods stashed around. In the middle of the room is a large circle of black like someone had perfectly smeared fresh charcoal in that area. Sarrow is fumbling at a locked door sunken into the floor.

"Find the key. It should be in here somewhere," she says, scanning the room.

"No need," my shadow says joyfully. Doing an exaggerated jump in midair he dives right in front of Sarrow, filling the lock. Sarrow cringes away as the sounds of tumblers disengaging fills the air and the lock clicks open. Pooling out of the lock my shadow immediately goes between the doors into the space beneath. "Hurry up! I want to play more!" He's enjoying this far too much.

Grabbing two swords from the ground made of polished silver with dim sigils on their surface I toss them to Sarrow as I pull the doors open. With a loud creak that I wamas afraid would alert the entire castle, the doors come open revealing dark, dusty stairs. Handing me her sword back, Sarrow quickly rummages through some supplies, bringing out a clear sphere that projects a soft, white light when she activates a small sigil on its surface. Rushing down the stairs I follow behind her, shutting the doors as I go. Feeling like I am in a crypt, we descend the stairs into the gloom below. Sarrow and I walk down each step silent as mice, afraid that any sound might travel, giving us away. My shadow has no such worries, humming he quickly goes ahead, leaving us alone. Soon enough we reach the bottom to a lengthy corridor with walls of earth and stone. With rushed steps we make our way to freedom. After a few minutes of silence Sarrow speaks.

"Even the legends do not depict the shadows of the Drow as being so powerful. The tales describe shadows that acted as spies, planting disinformation and sometimes even influencing others with dark urgings. Never ha've I heard of them actually killing and enjoying the deed. The Primehouses were right to fear your corruption, brother," Sarrow says.

"Most of the time he's not this helpful," I say. "I guess he's really bored."

"Aiding us for self-amusement," Sarrow says, shaking her head. "It's like Shalarom has been reborn." With no response to such a comment we walk on in silence.

The first door is open by the time we get there. A discolored, black patch just beyond tells me it had been guarded at one time. Trying not to think of the Kiraten who just died at the hands of my shadow we continue on in the damp air. Hours pass and we go by several more open doors. Some have the signs of my shadow's kills while others are untouched. I wonder if I should feel sorry for the Kiraten but find that I really can't. Aside from not caring about the fate of my world, imprisoning Sarrow and myself for simply being born, and treating all life as inferior, I just can't make myself worry about it. They brought this upon themselves. Finally we reach the last door and a spiraling staircase just above. Waiting at the exit is my shadow, craning his dark head upward.

"You move too slow," my shadow complains. "I already checked out the area ahead."

"And..." I prompt.

"And what?" My shadow sneers. "You never told me where we are going."

_Oh..._ "Sorry, I got carried away. We are going to the tower in the center of the city," I say.

My shadow gives a nod, "I thought that might be the case. It is more than what it seems. The path to the tower is clear. Only a few wander the roads and the night is dark. I don't know about the tower itself."

"Why not?" I ask.

"The tower's doors are composed of shadow wood," Sarrow says. "Remnants of the last war to keep the corruption of Shalarom at bay. I do not know what lies beyond."

Taking a deep breath I center myself. It is time. I've had enough of Inti to last a lifetime. "Let's do this," I say, ascending the stairs with Sarrow just behind me.

Lights flicker in the dark stairwell, plunging me into moments of absolute blackness as Sarrow's light is blocked by my body. Despite my shadow's all clear I am tense waiting for something to go wrong. In a moment of darkness the stairs abruptly end as I discover by hitting my head on a rather solid construct above.

"Ouch!" I cry.

"Shut up, fool," my shadow hisses. "When I said traffic was low I didn't mean nonexistent."

"Sorry," I say, rubbing my head.

"Wait here. It is not in my best interest to see you become a head on a pike," my shadow says, slipping into the seams above. Sarrow shifted the light and now I can see the faint outline of a trap door.

"Be ready, brother. For tonight we shall be free." A minute passes by before I hear the call.

"Come out," my shadow says softly. "But be quiet."

Bracing myself, I gently shove the door up. The sound of old stone sliding on more old stone makes my skin crawl. It sounds far too loud to me. Soon enough the way is clear. We are in a bare, rather dusty room with stone walls on all sides and old crates stacked in the corners. Spider webs are competing with the dust and straw matted ground to see which could cause the most mess.

Lifting myself out of the floor, I clumsily crawl out, getting dust all over me. Sarrow, with the grace of all Kiraten, leaps nimbly up, not getting a single spot of dirt on her robe. Getting to my feet I dust myself off, sword at the ready.

"Move it," my shadow says, slipping into the room from the large, heavy door in front of us. "The way is clear right now." Needing no encouragement I go to the door, pulling it open and entering the chamber beyond.

### Chapter 21 – Stairway To Heaven

We are in a large stable with a few melgui sleeping in pens around us. They snore so loudly that my opening of the door is most definitely unheard. Seeing the beasts I can't help but think of Whisper and what he would say. Maybe something like, 'Ten piece chicken meal.' I miss him and Sarah so much. The smell of straw and animal is strong in the air, along with prodigious piles of dung in each pen. Stepping forward gingerly, I go to the thick stable door. Opening the door slowly I see a large courtyard with the tower of Babel in the center; a dark blotch in a city paved with gold. The area lightens with the dawning twin suns reflecting brightly off the road. We are running out of time. My footsteps muffled by the moccasins, I inch into the courtyard.

"Run, idiot," my shadow snaps from nearby. "It's clear right now but that might not last." So I do. With a quick sprint that leaves an itch in my back as I expect a spear to impale me, we safely reach the tower wall. Craning my neck up I can see no end to it. Cautiously hugging the edge, I stumble onto the double doors of the tower. They are unimaginably thick with a rich, deep black color that is typical of shadow wood, with sigils glowing fiercely on its surface.

"How do we open it?" I ask. "Is this the seal?"

"No," Sarrow says, frowning at the door. "This was constructed by the Kiraten. I do not know how to open it."

"Fortunately, I do," says a voice from the courtyard. Nearly jumping out of my skin I turn, seeing Morith approach. "I knew you would come."

"Who are you?" My shadow says dangerously.

"He's a friend," I say. "He's the one who engineered our escape."

"Oh," my shadow says. "I suppose I shouldn't kill him then."

"That would be most appreciated," Morith replies. He is dressed in the same robe he had on yesterday, with fine gold jewelry around his neck. Facing Sarrow he bows deeply. "My heart gladdens now that you are free, Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth. The long injustice against you has finally been corrected."

Sarrow bows in return. "We would not be here if not for you, Morith of Primehouse Ageroth. You were ever my staunchest ally." Then, acting like the child she so resembles, she rushes forward, embracing the old man. "Thank you so much, uncle."

_Uncle!_ Unsure what to do I give a short bow. "Thanks for your help," I say. It feels woefully inadequate.

"It is I who should be thanking you, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth for freeing my precious Sarrowind." Releasing Sarrow he looks at the sky. "We have no time to waste. Heed my words, for I shall speak only once. Then I must depart."

Reaching into his robes he withdraws a plate-size flat sigil stone with a complex series of symbols on its surface. "Here is the door key," Morith says, pressing it into Sarrow's hands. "Long have I prepared for this day, yet the two of you must see it to fruition. At the base of the tower you will see a sunken key in the floor. No doubt you have deduced that Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth with his unique lineage, can open the way."

"How?" I ask.

"Pull the key out. You are the only one besides the dragons or a gathering of the Five that can do this," Morith says. "Ascend the tower to the world of Pandedonium."

"Shalarom's world? But why, uncle?" Sarrow says, apprehension darkening her features.

"I know that world frightens you, child. There is no choice if you wish to live. The protection the Five gave the tower has long since expired. Unspeakable horrors that traverse the null space between the worlds can now reach the stairs of the tower. You will shine like beacons in the emptiness. Linger too long on the path and they will find you. Pandedonium is the closest world to ours. You can't reach the others and survive. I have concluded, after long research, that the Drow can aid you in returning to Fomoria."

"How can the dark elves help us? Will they help us?" I say. Sarrow looks like she wants to spit.

"Do not trust all you hear," Morith says. "Many untruths are present in all worlds. I believe the Drow can free you of the Razoha."

"Truly?" Sarrow exclaims, her eyes wide.

"I believe so," Morith confirms. "After much investigation I have discovered that the traitor Solarkar with the aid of an unknown follower, was shifted to Pandedonium. There he sought the forbidden pool."

Sarrow gasps, "Surely, he did not."

"My sources are not precise on the details but all indicates so," Morith says, nodding grimly.

"Would Shalarom even allow such?" Sarrow says, fear making her look even more childlike.

"It was probably the corruptor's plan," Morith says.

"You do not suggest..." Sarrow begins.

"No. You have resources that Solarkar did not. Speak with the Drow who reside in the tower at their world. Long they have awaited your father's return. They will see the opening of the tower as a sign. They have ways to help you," Morith says.

"They won't kill us or take us hostage?" I ask.

"They are loyal to your father," Morith says. Sarrow gives a disgusted sound. "I know that this plan is distasteful to you, my precious Sarrowind, but long have I searched all five worlds for a way to truly free you. This is the only way."

With tears in her eyes she embraces the old man once more, "I understand, uncle."

He gives her a quick squeeze before stepping away. "No time," Morith says. "Go now. I will delay the search for as long as I am able." Turning back to me he adds. "Take the key with you. Such a powerful artifact would be safe in your hands." With a flutter of robes he is off, striding quickly out of sight.

I watch him go, confused on what to do, but Sarrow has no such troubles. Leaping into action she immediately goes to the door, pressing the sigil key into a matching indentation on the door. A series of sigils flare brightly, flashing in harmony like a coordinated light show. With a series of loud clicks that I am positive echo for miles around, the doors open.

The chamber before us is stale and coated with a century's worth of dust. It is a large, open space with a slightly sunken depression in the center that glows with an inner light. A spiraling wide staircase starts on the far wall, circling the tower's perimeter that abruptly ends after the third floor. My heart sinks at the sight. Whatever this tower truly is it doesn't go anywhere. I fall to my knees, defeated. It has all been for nothing.

"Brother! Come, what are you doing?" Sarrow exclaims, already at the center of the chamber examining the floor.

I point to the missing stairs. "It's gone. The stairs just end."

Looking at the missing stairs she frowns but presses on. "Unlock the way. Morith wouldn't have suggested this if all was lost."Getting to my feet, I walk on weak limbs to Sarrow who studies something set into the circular depression. This must be the key Morith was referring to, for all the good it would do us. A strange pommel with a red gem on top is sunken into the floor, surrounded by strangely glowing sigils significantly more complex than anything I've seen before. Reaching out she grips the handle only to have the jewel flare brightly. Giving a startled yelp she releases it, her hand smoking slightly. Grimacing, she looks right at me.

"Try it, brother," Sarrow says.

Kneeling down, I cautiously grip the handle, ready to pull back if anything goes wrong. The moment I touch it everything changes. Despite the Razoha in me I feel the shifting potential of the key. I can't shift but I can once again see the worlds open before me. Not just a few worlds, but all worlds. I can see all the way home. To Fomoria... Earth. More importantly I see stairs that do not end but spiral endlessly upwards beyond my sight. Yet even as the stairs spiral up I can also see that the way is blocked by forces I can't understand. But I don't need to understand it, just undo it.

"What is it, brother?" Sarrow asks, her face hopeful. I have to refocus my sight on this world, something I have gotten out of the habit of since the Razoha infested me.

"I can see the stairs now. They go so far up. It's like they really do reach heaven," I say.

"Well, pull the damn thing out already," my shadow says, leaning against the wall.

"Yes brother, free us," Sarrow says. Squatting before the item I pull up will all my strength, feeling the grip warm beneath my hand. Lights flicker all around as the ground trembles and the worlds themselves realign. Sliding an inch out with an audible scraping, I don't bother looking, I just keep pulling. Suddenly it is free and I am tumbling backwards holding not a key, but a sword.

In my time in Inti and Elysium I have seen many weapons, some more magnificent than others, yet all pale before this weapon. The hilt is rather plain besides the jeweled pommel, it is wrapped in worn leather with a claw-like hilt guard. The blade itself was undeniably the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. It is truly the work of the Five themselves. Slivery bright, it shimmers in the air, actually illuminating the area around me with a gently glowing blue line starting at the hilt and running along the blades' edge all the way around back down to the hilt on the other side. The line appears to be flowing, as if it were a condensed artic blue river. Awestruck, we just sit there, including my shadow, looking at the wondrous blade.

"By the Five..." Sarrow says in amazement. Shaking herself, she looks up and gasps. Following her gaze I see why. The barrier is gone. The stairs are now there for all to see. "We must hurry. Let us flee to freedom or death, brother!" With that she starts up the stairs, going as fast as she can.

"I like her," my shadow says to me. "Much more sensible than you are."

Not disagreeing I follow, racing up the stairs with the strange sword that is also a key in my hand. Other than the prospect of burning calves and stubbed toes I don't see any real danger. _This is going to be easy!_ Of course, that's when it all goes wrong.

After the third floor the tower itself vanishes. I am so startled by this I almost fall. The tower, the bottom floor, everything is gone, replaced by an empty void darker than the darkest night imaginable. Only the stairs exist with me and Sarrow atop them. Nothing else is here at all. Looking up, I saw the stairs still spiraling in long stretches all around us reaching upward and suspended by nothing. Sarrow is still visible just a short distance ahead of me. I can clearly see her frozen, staring slack-jawed into the void. There is no source of light for us to see, yet we can... there's just nothing here too see. And it is cold. I notice that immediately. Not just the frigid air of winter I have endured all my life, this cold is the absence of anything. It is the emptiness we all feel when we are at our lowest.

"Be not distracted!" Sarrow yells, her voice reverberating all around us. "Let us make haste." With that she is off again, going as fast as she could. Racing after her I have a hard time not looking off into the void, imagining what would happen if I fell. _Is there even a bottom for me to hit?_ Would I fall endlessly or be eaten by one of these unspeakables that has Sarrow so terrified.

Several more floors go by with no change and I am considering asking for a break or at least a slower pace when the sound begins. A high pitch whine like a dentist drill etching itself onto my eardrums. Something is coming. I can feel it. Something so big, so wrong, that it chills my core without me ever seeing it. Spurred on by fear I come alongside Sarrow. She looks haggard. Sweat pours down her blue skin, soaking her robes despite the cold air.

"What is it?" I yell between panting gasps for air.

"I know not!" She yells back but I can barely hear her as the sound continues to intensify. It's all around us now, shaking the very stairs. Then the arms appear; rising from below there's a field of limbs all around us growing steadily closer with each passing second. As numerous as a full head of hair and as deformed as only tenth generation inbreeding could produce, they make grabbing motions toward us with twisted fingers.

"RUN!" Sarrow yells.

_Good advice_. I run on, spurred to Olympic speed by the unspeakable horror beneath. I am barely aware of how my lungs burn and my legs ache, all I can think of are dirty, stubby hands pulling on me.

"Move it, fools!" My shadow yells. "You're nearly there!"

_Nearly where?_ It doesn't matter. Nothing does except not being caught by those hands. Fingers grope at the stairs with blackened nails, tainted by the emptiness they dwells in. Stepping on fingers and hands I nearly stumble as they paw at my feet. The sound is so intense now that I am running full tilt, hands over my ears mirroring Sarrow just a step ahead of me. Clammy hands are all around us now as piercing sounds threaten to consume our minds. It's nearly overwhelming, and then it's suddenly all gone. So startled am I by the change that I trip over, taking Sarrow down with me. Landing hard, I lay there atop Sarrow, both of us breathing hard. Rolling over I half expect my sight to be filled with greedy, dirty hands. Instead I see a faint light all around us and a familiar looking tower wall. We made it.

"Are we," I gasp, "there yet?"

"I believe so," Sarrow says, panting heavily.

"So that was the unspeakable," I say, not getting up.

"It was an unspeakable," Sarrow corrects. "The legends tell of many that dwell in the void. Morith was correct, we cannot hope to reach Fomoria by the tower alone."

"As much as you two lazy asses would like to rest I think we have more immediate issues to contend with," my shadow says.

Sure enough one floor above us several Drow are staring down, patiently waiting. Getting to my feet I try to ignore the fatigue. I hope this goes better than my meeting with the Kiraten. Sarrow is still resting on the steps, gasping for air. Reaching down I grab her arm, helping her to her feet. Together we go to face the Drow with my shadow racing ahead.

My shadow is among the shadows of the Drow before we get there, dancing around in some type of celebration. I watch in fascination as the figures all move independently of their owners. On unsteady feet I reach the main floor of the tower, Sarrow by my side, facing the Drow. They are very similar to the fictional dark elves I am familiar with. With black skin and pure white hair they have long, pointy ears and large, bright purple eyes the same shade as Sarrow's. They have on white robes that look to be made of flower petals, yet do not fall apart. Armed with simple staves of black iron the dozen or so watch calmly as we take our time looking each other over. I am trying to think of something to say when Sarrow speaks up.

"I am Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth and this is my brother, Jerry of Primehouse Ageroth. We are children of Dalvine of Primehouse Ageroth."

"We know you, children of the great one," the lead Drow speaks, bowing low. His voice is as gentle as a swaddling blanket. "We see his power and the gift of Shalarom in you both. Long have we awaited your arrival. It is a sign that the great one's glorious return is at hand. I am Hiltith the Watcher, at your service."

Sarrow stiffens at his words. I'm not surprised. "Abomination" in one world and "Great One" in another, it all depends on your point of view.

"Thank you for your kind welcome," I say. Then, thinking of my world I can't wait any longer, I have to know now. "I was told that you might have knowledge of Solarkar and how he freed himself of the Razoha."

"Yes, we expected that is what you would seek. Solarkar made a deal with Miasma of the Dead who, using its corruption removed the Razoha from within him," Hiltith says.

"The forbidden pool..." Sarrow says, her eyes wide. My mind flashes back to the mural of the five worlds with that ominous pool in Pandemonium . "So he truly did it. I did not wish to believe Morith." Shaking her head she adds. "How one could fall so low?"

"Yes," Hiltith agrees. "Such is truly a desperate act from one with nothing to lose except his soul, which is now at risk. You however, have no need for such perils for the means for your freedom are in this very chamber."

"Really? Where? How?" I say.

"The gift of Shalarom, of course," Hiltith says. "Focusing all your power into your gift it may enter you and kill the infestation inside you. Command your shadow to do this and you shall be free."

"Command me?" My shadow says separating from the others. "Don't be absurd. He can no more command me than you can. But your suggestion is good. Why didn't I think of it earlier?" Turning his dark silhouette to me he gives an evil grin and bursts into song.

"Past the lips and

Through the gums.

Look out stomach,

Here I come!"

With that he charges my face. "Wait a second..." I say, raising my hands in protest. Then, before I can speak anymore, an inky blackness fills my mouth. _At least there's no taste_. I struggle to breathe, gagging on my own shadow. My eyes water as my neck budges from swallowing the surprisingly substantial darkness. Dropping the key sword, I clutch my belly as it swells painfully.

"Brother! Are you all right?" Sarrow says, kneeling next to me. I can't answer. It is literally the world's worst gas attack.

"Hello, beautiful!" Comes the call from my stomach. A moment of intense pain is followed by nausea and I feel the worlds blossom before me. Bending over, I vomit up a pool of ink along with the chunks of a now thoroughly dead Razoha. I am glad I can't make out any details of what was previously living inside me. Ignorance is bliss. Coughing, I clutch Sarrow for support.

"Now you turn, girly," my shadow says wickedly.

"Wait, I can find another..." Sarrow begins too late. Jumping inside her, it's now me supporting her as my shadow goes to work.

"Excuse me," my shadow says followed by an indistinct reply. "You couldn't kill this little thing?" A few tsk sounds follow. "I can't have a shadow related to me being so weak. We will have to work on this. Now observe." Sarrow lets out a painful cry, shuddering violently. Bending over she vomits much as I had, expelling my shadow and another dead Razoha.

"Well, that's all done. Shall we depart?" My shadow says, forming his dark silhouette and standing rather proudly before us.

"In a minute," I say. Helping Sarrow to her feet we face Hiltith who stares in fascination at my shadow. "Thank you for all your help."

"It was my pleasure," Hiltith says, still looking at my shadow. "What has happened to your gift of Shalarom?"

"Huh?" I say.

"Its behavior is most unusual. It appears to obey its own desires above your own," Hiltith says.

"No one commands me," my shadow says.

"That's definitely true," I agree.

"This should not be," Hiltith says. "It is a part of you and should be subject to your will. Your gift of Shalarom might be stronger than the Miasma of the dead and the dragon's fire."

Sarrow gasps, her eyes wide. "How can that be? What is his shadow?"

"All shadows are a manifestation of the Id. The base desires of life and the subconscious. This one is that but something more. The great one too had a free shadow like all Drow, but his was weaker than ours and could not range far." Turning to Sarrow he adds. "I can sense your gift inside you is it unable to leave?"

"It can for very brief periods," Sarrow says, still looking at my shadow who grins widely at all the attention.

"The Kiraten's Id is comparably small to a Drow's. You are mostly Kiraten so your shadow is weaker as a result, but why is your brother different?" Hiltith says.

"We are only half brother and sister," I say, thinking for our differences that should have been apparent. "My mother was human, not Kiraten."

"That could be it," Hiltith says. "The wisdom of Palentor's creations is well known. It is not surprising that your shadow would be incomparably stronger. Your human side has made your gift of Shalarom powerful beyond anything seen before."

"As with your shifting ability," Sarrow adds.

I redden, embarrassed. _Who would have thought it?_ It wasn't all these amazing new beings like the Drow and Kiraten that give me such wide abilities. It's my human part that makes me special.

"Is that why my shadow can kill?" I ask. It's like someone dropped a dead baby in front of us, asking that we all take a bite. The Drow draw back, utterly repulsed.

"Your shadow can kill?" Hiltith asks as the others around us hiss. Where there had been friendship and warmth in their eyes, now fear and horror hold sway.

"Uh, yeah..." I say unsure of myself. "He only did a few times when it was absolutely necessary." I add hoping that helps.

"Or if I'm bored," my shadow adds, grinning even more widely as the other shadows draw away from him.

"No, it can't be. You must come with us. Such a thing shouldn't be, even if you are a child of the great one. He would understand the need." Hiltith says, looking grim but determined.

"I'm not going anywhere," I declare hotly. "Solarkar is trying to bring Melephos to my world. Thank you for your help but I must go."

"You shall not!" Hiltith says desperately. "You can't be allowed to go free. I assure you no harm will come to you but we must investigate this immediately. You don't comprehend the significance of this event.

"Is it really important?" I say. "Each of our shadows are different, mine's just more potent than most."

"There is more to your shadow that a mere manifestation of your Id. Only once has a Drow shadow killed before. I am concerned there are forces at work here beyond our understanding."

"Shalarom is aware of Jerry's shadow," Sarrow says. "Other than being happy about the power of his corruption there was no concern."

"The great Shalarom is of chaos itself. The fact that he was interested at all is a sign," Hiltith says. "We will restrain your gift for a short time while we ascertain the truth."

"Forget it, we have to leave now," I say.

"The entire tower has powerful talismans that stop shifting. You have no choice but to accompany us," Hiltith replies.

"The hell we do," my shadow says, swelling up to gigantic proportions. "I've had enough of you inferior creatures telling me what I can and can't do. No more!" My shadow changes. Stretching and growing my shadow becomes a monstrous nightmare with four long arms and a wide, gaping maw.

"It's Shalarom reborn!" One of the Drow cries, bowing low. Others flee and a few brandish their black iron staves at my shadow. The shadows in the room obey the wishes of their owners. Some flee while others grovel, and a few actually attack my shadow. It's like watching a film done in all black and white. Dark figures strike my large shadow, doing absolutely nothing to him. My shadow lets out a wicked laugh that sends everyone, including the other shadows, cringing. Reaching forth my shadow grabs four of the offending Drow shadows, one in each arm. Then one by one he eats them. Tossing them into his wide, dinosaur-like maw and actually chewing them. As he does, the owner of each shadow collapses dead on the floor. That is enough. The Drow all flee, taking their shadows with them. Once the tower is empty my shadow collapses back into his standard dark silhouette.

"Tasty," my shadow says, his dark features rippling. "See, now we can leave."

"I suppose, but I'd rather have tried to talk my way out of it," I say sadly. I'm not doing a very good job at making friends in these other worlds.

"No matter, brother," Sarrow says, keeping a wary eye on my shadow. "We are free. Let us leave this tower and go to Fomoria." I nod, heading to the open door the Drow had fled from.

The landscape is chaotic but beautiful in a way. Shalarom apparently had dispelled the natural laws on this world. I see purple rivers flowing up hills rather than down, plants walking about and large sections of rock floating in mid-air.

"Brother, you must shift me as well so I will not incur any imbalance and will not need ever return to Inti," Sarrow says. Grabbing her arm, I send my sight all the way to Fomoria... home.

"Let's go home," I say.

Moving us to a slightly different position I shift us just outside of Stonehenge. All that remains of the tower in my world. Now that the way is open a set of stairs is clearly visible leading into the earth, lit by the noon sun in the middle of the formation. _That might cause problems later._ Luckily, no one is in the immediate vicinity. That's rather surprising all by itself. I thought this was a big tourist attraction. Now, with the stairs exposed, I suppose it will be an even bigger one. _Come see other worlds and get eaten by unspeakables on your way down to hell! A fun family event_.

"So this is Fomoria?" Sarrow asks, warming her face in the sun.

Looking at her, I am suddenly startled. She is slightly, but noticeably, different. She could almost pass for human now. Her skin is lighter with only a sight blue tinge. The green extra wavy hair of all Kiraten has lost that strange motion and looks like it could just be a really good dye job. She still has long, pointy ears and purple slit pupil eyes but we can hide that. Hell, why bother, it might start a trend.

I smile, "Welcome home, sis."

Looking as her hands and changed skin she nods. "I am now of this world, brother. Let us go and stop Solarkar."

"Yuck," my shadow says, looking far less substantial then he had in Inti. "I will miss those worlds. I can do so much more there."

"Palentor designed this world well, repulsing all those outside who don't belong," Sarrow says, nodding. "It is not surprising that the power of Shalarom is limited here."

"You're right. But right now let's just find a ride into town," I say, gesturing to a long road ahead of us. Its strange being back home. No longer do I have to worry about carnivorous hills or dragons swooping down upon us. The only thing I have to worry about is being mugged, which would be like a vacation. Hiding my new sword awkwardly under my black robes, Sarrow and I head into town.

I know something is wrong after the first mile. Roads are vacant and I see no signs of life at all. Finally, after two more miles an old pickup truck comes by and we manage to hitch a ride into town. Dropping us off at a tavern, I go to thank the man to find him already pulling away.

"The people of this world do not converse well, brother," Sarrow notes.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask of no one.

Going to the tavern door Sarrow and I enter unchallenged as all the people are huddled before a large TV screen. Although I can't see what is playing, looking at the nearest table tells me everything. Laying there is a newspaper with a black and white photo covering the entire front page. Laying it flat, I feel my mouth go dry. It depicts a monster of such gigantic size that it's on level with the surrounding skyscrapers. Dozens of tentacles several times its body length are shown picking up cars and other, more human things and feeding them into a cavernous maw in the center of a bulbous body. Underneath the picture are the words, 'THE END?' Melephos is here. We are too late.

### Chapter 22 – The End Of The World As You Know It

For a long moment I just look at the picture. _It was all for nothing_. My desperate escape from Inti just to fail before I even got to try. The unfairness of it all makes me want to cry.

"Brother, we are too late," Sarrow says, looking down at the picture. Behind us everyone is glued to the television, their faces white in horror as they watch Melephos destroy my home. My home... Sarah and Whisper! They would be out there right now!

"Where's a phone?" I yell to no one in particular. The bartender doesn't even bother to respond or ask if it's a local call. Without taking his eyes off the television he points to the far end of the counter. With five quick strides I am at the counter, pushing buttons with a trembling finger. _They must be all right. They must be_. I can't comprehend a world where they are already dead. Dialing the number I had memorized long ago I wait, my teeth grinding as the phone rings. Four long rings then a distracted voice answers.

"Clifford," Sarah says over the cacophony of vehicles and voices blaring announcements over a speaker. Relief floods me so much so I can't find any words. "Clifford!" Sarah now shouts over another announcement bellowing in the background.

"All personel, please report to staging area five Beta. All personal please report to staging area five Beta."

"Sarah, it's me!" I yell into the receiver as Sarrow looks on in amusement. Do doubt she is wondering why I am talking to an inanimate object. I'll explain the concept of phones later.

"Who?" She asks distracted. Her voice suddenly goes distant, "No, go see Commander Terrence for that."

"It's me, Jerry," I say. Sarrow moves behind the bar counter, studying everything with great interest as my shadow points out various items to her.

A long pause then Sarah says in a weak, hopeful voice, "Jerry? Is that you?"

"Yup, I escaped Inti and I'm in England right now. Turns out Stonehenge is where the tower is or what's left of it."

"Oh, thank god!" I hear a soft sob from the other line. "Everything has gone crazy. Vision hit the street in record amounts. Hell, they were giving it away. Then reports came in of people dying and seeing weird shit all over the city. I tried to warn everyone about the other worlds. Palentor joined me in a meeting with top military officials. It impressed them a lot. But before we knew what was happening a giant monster appeared, killing everyone. Have you seen it?"

"Yeah, I'm looking at a picture of it right now. It's Melephos, Sarah," I say.

"That's what Palentor told us before he vanished. He said he's going to confer with the Five. That was over four days ago," Sarah says, exhausted.

"Isn't Palentor going to fight him?" I ask, incredulous.

"He wants too," Sarah says. "But he made it quite clear he was no match alone for the devourer. Since then we've been doing all we can to slow him down and the hordes of creatures flooding the streets. Melephos is consuming everything in the area from trees to those still in the city. We have all of Chicago quarantined and for the most part that's keeping the little ones contained but once Melephos moves on there is nothing we can do to stop him. How is this even possible, Jerry? Palentor said that the worlds were designed to block the Five from moving beyond their own. Even an army of shifters couldn't bring Melephos here."

"Its vision, Sarah," I say. "I finally figured it out. Vision changes humans into beings that disrupt reality itself. When enough of them are in a small area the boundary between worlds merge. Melephos' world is the closest to ours so Solarkar shifted Melephos where reality was the weakest."

"Damn it!" Sarah shouts. "That's the other thing Solarkar made a rather public appearance, claiming dominion over all the Earth. Those who wish to be spared the worst fates should submit to him and accept Melephos as their god."

"That son of a bitch!" I curse. The patrons of the bar don't even bother to respond to my outburst, they're too focused on the television. Nor do they notice Sarrow getting into the liquor at the encouragement of my shadow perching over her left shoulder. Her eyes go wide at the first sip. Being isolated in her prison all her life, she might know a lot from books about the history of the five worlds, but in everything else she is clueless. I wonder what she will make of rap music.

"Hang on, Jerry," Sarah says again, her voice going distant. "Get Commander Terrence and my brother, this is important. The person I told them about is on the other line." I briefly recall that her brother was high up in the military.

"Jerry, I'll have someone fetch you. Where are you now? We need you here."

"Wait, what's the army doing to stop Melephos? Can you isolate the vision users? If you can do that Melephos will have to return to his world," I say.

"That was the first thing Melephos did is eat all the vision users and a lot of others. Apparently there was some huge gathering of them at the time. Jerry they're already dead. A lot of people are."

"They're not dead, Sarah," I say sadly. "They probably wish they were dead right now. Sarrow said if Melephos fused the vision users into his body he could stay indefinitely even outside the disturbed reality zone."

"Who?" Sarah asks.

"I'll tell you everything later," I say. "Can the army stop Melephos?"

"We've tried everything short of nuclear weapons and nothing hurts him. Palentor made it clear that the Five can withstand even the inferno of the stars. We are still trying but mostly we are knocking down buildings to give us time to evacuate everyone. I hope Palentor can come up with something, otherwise we are so screwed."

There has to be something I can do. Thinking furiously I ignore Sarrow who is now rather tipsy on her feet. Seeing her, I think about all I learned about the history of the Five and a wild idea occurs to me. It's so crazy it might just work... or kill me.

"Sarah, I have an idea," I say.

"Really? Good, because we are all out of them," Sarah says.

"I don't know if it will work but I have to try," I say.

"What is it already?" Sarah says.

"There's no time, I have to check on a few things. Get someone near Stonehenge to pick me and one other person up in a few hours," I say.

"Someone's with you?" Sarah asks.

"Yeah, she helped me escape," I say. "I'll call you once I know more. Just have that ride here soon."

"Ok Jerry, but where do you need to go?" Sarah says.

"Home," I answer.

"Whatever you're doing, be careful," Sarah says, then pauses a moment before adding. "I love you."

I feel my chest swell with warmth. "I love you too," then hang up.

"Brother! By the Five, this nectar is wondrous!" Sarrow says, wobbling over to me.

"That's scotch," I reply.

"Scotch," Sarrow slurs. "What a marvelous invention. The wisdom Palentor gave his creations has been put to great use."

I can't help but laugh. "I suppose it has," I say. Steadying her I take the bottle away. "You can have more later, after I explain what it is. Now, I need to see the Five." That sobers her up.

"The F,F,Five?" She asks, uncertain.

"Yes. Do you know where their meeting chamber is?" I ask.

"No, brother. I was there once as a much younger child. It shouldn't be far from the tower."

I sigh. Have to do this the hard way then. "Let's go back to the tower and start from there. You'll have to guide me as I look for it."

"You can see all the way to Inti?" Sarrow asks, swaying again.

_Great, this is going to be the drunk leading the blind_. I should have taken away the bottle earlier. "With the key I can. Come on, let's go."

"Very well, brother," Sarrow says, wobbling as we head to the door. "The gravity on your world seems in flux. No doubt you have learned to compensate for such."

"He sure has," my shadow chuckles. I can see that Sarrow has a rather large learning curve ahead of her.

Two hours later and we are nearly there. Fortunately Sarrow sobers up, stumbling less often as I focus my sight on Inti. She leads me around much as Sarah had when I was trying to find the hive entrance.

"Right here," I say, looking down a familiar corridor.

"Brother, wait, there is something here. We might be in peril," Sarrow says. Bringing my sight back to our world I see we are in a pasture filled with cows. Sarrow watches the animals warily.

"Sarrow," I say patiently. "There is little danger here in Fomoria compared to Inti. Those are cows, very passive farm animals we raise for food. They won't hurt you. The only danger is stepping in their droppings." Poor girl doesn't know anything besides what she's read in books. Most tell of the history of the five worlds along with the dangerous beasts living in their lands.

"We should probably kill it just to be safe," my shadow says mockingly, his silhouette leaning against a fence.

"I'm sorry, brother," she says, obviously embarrassed.

"No need," I say patting her on the shoulder. "You've been trapped in a castle your entire life. Never seeing a living thing besides your guards and whatever book Morith could smuggle to you. After this is done I'll show you around and teach you everything."

"Better yet, I'll teach her and her shadow what she needs to know," my shadow offers.

"You would just mess with her," I say.

"So?" My shadow counters.

Smiling she gives my hand an affectionate squeeze, ignoring my shadow. "Thank you, brother. But why do you want the Five? They cannot help defeat Melephos for they are confined to their own worlds. Do you think to ask for the aid of the dragons against Melephos? Even a dozen first creations are no match for an ancient one."

"I have an idea," I say. "I don't know if it will work but I must see them."

"Very well, brother. I trust your judgment. Be quick to depart if the meeting goes astray," Sarrow says as we go further on.

A minute later and we are there. I can see the chamber doors with two guards outside and Tarith and Yawrith waiting impatiently. They look concerned, no doubt waiting to give news of mine and Sarrow's escape. Wearing red ceremonial armor with no sigils they stand at attention for the whim of their god. The sight pisses me off. Experimentally, I try shifting a small pebble there but instantly feel the repulsion that signifies sigils that prevent shifting. I nod, gripping the key sword.

"Sarrow, wait here," I say. "I'm going to quickly shift in and see if I can get an audience. If not we will do it the hard way."

"Should I come along?" my shadow offers.

I hesitate, "No, stay with Sarrow. I won't be long." Drawing on the power of the key still under my robes I shift despite the sigil. It's easy. Suddenly I am before Tarith and Yawrith, their mouths open in shock.

"You!" Yawrith says, dropping into a combat stance as the door guards lower their spears at me. Tarith says nothing at all.

"Yup, it's me," I say, grinning. "What no warm welcome this time Yawrith? How about you Tarith, no hug and kiss?"

"I can if you'd like but I'd prefer not," Tarith says with as much dignity as he can manage. "How are you here? This entire city is protected against shifting."

"Oh, those little sigils," I say dismissively. "Perhaps they stop you lesser shifters but they are only a inconvenience for me."

"It is not a little sigil. It was created at the base of the city itself and the field it creates stretches all across the land," Tarith says, looking hard at me.

"It's cute how you Kiraten think you can do anything," I say. Yawrith hisses in anger, performing a rather complex summersault that would have landed her in perfect striking position at me if I hadn't shifted away. She lands looking dumbfounded, only to have me reappear sweeping her leg out from under her. She lands hard with a loud smack as the guards come forward. Revealing the key sword I shift yet again, reappearing next to them and shearing through their spear tips with a single slash.

"I'm rather busy right now," I say as if I am bored. "I want to see the Five. Are going to cooperate or not?"

"By Valerdon's will I shall destroy you, Bastard of Primehouse Ageroth!" Yawrith snarles, getting to her feet.

"Fine," I say, shifting back to Fomoria.

"How did it go?" Sarrow asks.

"About what I expected," I say. "Time for plan B." Striding forward to where the chamber of the Five is I send my sight forth. They are there talking animatedly all except for Melephos who is immobile in his chair, only a statue right now. Freeing the key sword from my robe I feel its power as I reach through reality to the chamber. Taking a deep breathe I shift the whole thing to Earth. They all stop, frozen just like the statues they are, looking around at the blue sky and the green pastures with cows chewing away undisturbed.

"What is the meaning of this?" Valerdon roars, his polished steel statue bright in the sun.

"I did knock," I say. "But your Kiraten wouldn't let me pass." Sarrow comes up next to me, looking rather frightened at Valerdon.

"Both of the offensive spawn of the abomination in the same place! I shall end your miserable existences now!" Twirling his spear he takes a single step before the statue of Belaroth grabs his arm.

"Do not act rashly, Valerdon," Belaroth says calmly. "I wish to know much. This is most unexpected."

The tall statue of Shalarom chuckles, its quartz suit shimmering in the light while the obsidian grows darker in contrast. "Do you not realize what this means, Valerdon? They have escaped your world in just a mere cycle. Oh look, the boy's shadow is free as well, how joyous!" The tall statue beams at me in a rather disturbing way.

Valerdon freezes, turning to me then to Sarrow then to my shadow who gives a rude gesture in return. "Free? I think not! I shall rend the flesh from their bones and send them to..."

"Enough, Valerdon!" Palentor snaps, his wizened beard swaying as he speaks, stamping down his gnarled staff for emphasis. "We are here to discuss Melephos' invasion of my world, not the escape of your captives."

"Yes," Shalarom says in a bored voice. "We have discussed it at length already to no avail. I'd rather discuss the boy and how he managed to escape. The only way is... oh, he did it that way then." Shalarom gestures to the sword I hold in my hand. "He freed the Worldkey how marvelous! The tower then is once more linked between the worlds." That gets their attention. Each one looks down to the sword, then to me.

"How surprising," mutters Palentor, looking hard at me. "Using the Worldkey's power, he even managed to shift our entire chamber all the way to Fomoria despite the protection of the Kiraten and my world's natural resistance to shifting. Remarkable."

"Unprecedented," Belaroth adds.

"Unacceptable!" Valerdon roars, again pulling away from Belaroth and pointing his spear at me. "Give me the Worldkey, spawn of the Abomination along with my shame and I won't destroy you." At the word 'shame' Sarrow flushes, looking down.

Giving him a sneer worthy of my shadow I say, "I brought her here and I won't hand her over to some oiled up statue. Now, shut up."

A shocked look crosses all their faces. Except Shalarom who is laughing his ass off, clapping excitedly like a child. Valerdon's steel face is very expressive in its disbelief at my words and then darkens with murderous intent. I don't wait. Reaching forth, I shift him back to Inti along with a small chunk of the chamber.

"Now that the asshole is out of way, can we have a reasonable discussion?" I say. Shalarom's booming laugher echoes all around, matched by my shadow's.

"You will pay for that if you ever return to Inti," Belaroth says. "Valerdon the vindicator never forgets."

"That's not important," I say. "What are you guys doing about Melephos?"

"I was trying to convince all here to lend the strength of their people to push Melephos into retreating," Palentor says.

"A waste of time," Shalarom says. "I don't care about your world Palentor let the devourer do as he wishes. Or, go stop him yourself." He gives Palentor a very sly smile.

"That would mean his destruction, Shalarom, as you well know," Belaroth says. "I purpose the dragons are still the best chance to restore balance and force Melephos to return to his world."

"They might, if all gather united," Palentor agrees. "But moving them to my world would take time and the aid of Valerdon's Kiraten. He has already flatly refused all assistance in reprisal for refusing to hand over the boy."

"What about you, oh great Shalarom," Sarrow says in a weak voice, still looking down. "You were once Melephos' ally in the war of the dragons, will he not withdraw if you ask it of him?"

"Perhaps, or perhaps not," Shalarom says. "I have no interest in Melephos except when he entertains me. This is the most exciting thing to happen in many millenniums."

I swallow, turning to Belaroth, "Will you help?"

"I do not see how," Belaroth says. "My creations, while powerful and numerous, would only die before the devourer."

"No, I mean will _you_ help," I say. They all pause, regarding me curiously.

"Me?" Belaroth says. "I would gladly. Such disruption to the sanctity of the worlds should not be tolerated. But I cannot go to Fomoria."

"If you go to the disturbed zone where Melephos crossed over I will shift you here," I say. They all gasp. "Together you and Palentor can drive back Melephos."

"Brother, no!" Sarrow exclaims.

"She is right," Palentor says. "All of Solarkar's supporters died, save for himself in bringing Melephos to Fomoria. To bring Belaroth here would require an even greater effort since Elysium is farther away. You would not survive the attempt or even succeed. Solarkar is the most powerful in the last three centuries and he barely survived."

I smile. "Yeah, I met him twice before. He's no match for me in shifting. If I use this Worldkey with my full strength in the zone of disturbed reality I can bring Belaroth here." I'm sure I can. Will I survive the attempt... that I don't know.

"If you insist on doing this then I will help you, brother," Sarrow says defiantly.

"No," I reply sharply. "You've only just gained your freedom and if I die, then I need you to stop Solarkar." I see tears welling up in her eyes. "I can do this."

"Bold," Shalarom says thoughtfully. "It would be rather amusing to see Belaroth here in this world. What a glorious battle that would make."

"The demonstration of your strength is already proven by shifting us here," Belaroth says, her foxy face regarding me closely. "Yes, it might work. With my aid we shall drive back the devourer and make him regret violating our ancient pact. I will depart now to the disruption zone. Make haste there. I know you can alter reality when you shift but such will not affect me so my time will be limited. I belong always to my world, that is the way of things."

"Truly?" Shalarom says looking genuinely surprised. "My boy what a marvel you are! Not only do you have the strongest corruption I've seen and possess unrivaled shifting strength, you can alter reality the way we can. Do not die in this venture. I can surely make great plans for one such as you." I shudder, this guy is even creepier than my own shadow who said something similar long ago.

"Shalarom..." Palentor begins.

"No need to fret, old one," Shalarom waves dismissively. "I have no such intentions as of yet. Do not let the boy die if you can. It has been a long time since one has interested me so." Turning around, the statues of Shalarom and Belaroth sit back down on their thrones.

"Be sure to return this chamber back to the Kiraten," Belaroth says. "I do prefer the fresh air but I don't like bird shit." With that the two become plain statues once more.

"I thank you, Jerry Price," Palentor says, bowing to me. "Long I have looked over this world, keeping it safe from outside intrusions to the best of my ability. Yet compared to the might of the other Five I have always been lacking."

"I don't think so," I say. "You have given us the greatest gift of all. Freedom and the wisdom to use it. Melephos eats his creations. Belaroth treats all equally, which isn't bad. Shalarom toys with his. Valerdon gives the Kiraten everything but a choice. I would choose no other."

"I am humbled by your words," Palentor says, turning to Sarrow. "You girl are not from this world but I give you leave to stay indefinitely. No doubt Valerdon would destroy you upon your return. You already belong to this world thanks to Jerry's power, you need never leave."

"Thank you, wise one," Sarrow says, bowing.

"Now that all the touchy-feely crap is out of the way, can we get some action?" My shadow asks in a bored tone.

"Indeed," Palentor agrees. "I shall make arrangements to carry you home."

"No need," I say. "I called Sarah already. Someone should be waiting for me at Stonehedge." That reminds me about the stairs. "Oh, about the tower..."

"Do not concern yourself," Palentor says. "I'd rather it remain sealed but with those that dwell in the void I doubt it will get much use. Besides with Melephos' arrival everything has changed. No longer can the glorious residents of this world be content with merely their own affairs. Life must change. That is the way of things. Oh, and one last thing. During your entire imprisonment, never once had Sarah or Whisper given up on you. I thought you would like to know that." Emotions tight in my throat, I watch Palentor sit down on this throne becoming a statue once more.

Gripping my arm Sarrow pulls me into a hug. "Brother, are you sure about this course of action? I do not wish to lose you."

I give her a tight squeeze then bend down, returning the chamber back to Inti with a still pissed Valerdon stomping around yelling at the inanimate statues. It would have been funny except for the absolute rage in his face.

"You won't. With the Worldkey I feel like I can shift anything," I say.

"Just in case, I will help you," my shadow says, and I turn to him surprised.

"Since when are you so willing to help?" I ask.

"Don't be absurd," my shadow scoffs. "I'm not helping you! I'm merely looking out for my own existence. If you die then I am no more and I can't deny the world my glory. Besides, I want to see these so called gods fight and bleed. It shall be most entertaining."

"I doubt that not," Sarrow agrees smiling at my shadow for the first time. "Perhaps there is more to you than I originally surmised."

"No way!" My shadow and I say in unison. We all share a laugh, even my shadow who for once doesn't sound evil at all.

"No matter what happens, brother, remember this. You have attracted the attention of the corruptor, such is never without peril," Sarrow says and with that happy thought in my head we go back to Stonehenge.

****

"By Valerdon's wrath, what is that?" Sarrow says over the whirl of wind buffeting us.

"It's a helicopter!" I yell, striding forward with my arm blocking most of the wind. The pilot is already beckoning us forward while another man is dropping rocks down the exposed stairs of Stonehenge. "We use it to fly. Try to keep your hood up it will make things easier."

"FLY?" Sarrow squeaks, pulling her hood over her face.

The piloit comes forward, looking me over. "You're the VIP?" He yells over the roar of the engine.

"I'm Jerry Price," I say.

"Come along with us, sir," the man says, pointing needlessly to the helicopter. Climbing on board, I feel Sarrow nervously squeezing my hand. A minute later we are raising high into the air with Sarrow desperately clinging to me the entire trip. It's a wild ride with Sarrow giving alternating yelps of fear and elation. The man next to us points to the headset which I put, on drowning out the roar of the engine.

"Sir, I'm General Edward, adjutant to the joint chief US Army station at Biggin Hill. I was given strict orders to bring you there immediately. From there you will board a B-1 Lancer directly for the Chicago war zone. There General Conway will meet you and debrief you. "

"Good," I say. "The sooner the better."

"My orders came from the president himself. They didn't tell me anything about her or why you're so important," he says, gesturing to Sarrow.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," I say.

"I've seen that giant monster laying waste to everything in its path and shrugging off missiles like they were flies. Try me."

"No, this is just the beginning. Things are never going to be the same ever again," I say. "Oh, be sure to isolate Stonehenge. Don't let anyone go down those stairs."

"Where did they come from? I've visited there before and never saw anything like that. Where do they go?" Edwards say.

"They were always there and they lead to hell," I say darkly.

"Very funny, sir."

"No, it isn't," I say and the man's expression falls. "Isolate it."

"Yeah, ok..."

The helicopter lands an hour later on a military air strip where everything is stopped just for us. We are led directly onto a fueled and ready plane for our departure home. It's cramped and tight, made for speed rather than comfort. Sarrow lets out a frightened gasp as the plane leaves the runway, climbing high into the sky.

"By the Five, how high are we?" Sarrow says in amazement, staring out the window.

"I think around 35,000 feet or so," I say.

"These artificial dragons are truly marvelous," Sarrow says.

"Excuse me," a voice says behind us. Turning, I see a man in full brown military dress with a lot of stripes on his chest. Clean cut, he has a hair style straight off of a US army poster with a spinal curve that could put a chiropractor out of business. Wearing reflective sunglasses I can't see his eyes, but his face is hard as if chiseled from stone.

"Hi, what can I do for you?" I say, not really comfortable with all the 'sir' stuff. _Should I salute?_

"I'm General Conway with the US Army, direct aid to the president of the United States," Conway says.

"What does that mean, brother?" Sarrow asks, looking confused.

"He represents the leader of my home nation," I say.

Reddening, Sarrow stands up and bows low to the man, the hood flying off her face. "Thank you for welcoming us honorable General Conway. I am Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth, your aid is most welcome against the traitor Solarkar." My shadow snickers at her.

The man gapes at her, taking in her youth and non-human features. It's a good thing Sarrow looks so non-threatening; otherwise the man might have gone for his side arm.

"This is my sister, Sarrow, General Conway," I say as Sarrow returns to her seat. "She is not from around here."

"I see that, sir," he says looking at her long pointy ears, blue tinged skin and green hair. "I'm here to brief you on the situation. We will be landing outside the Warzone in nine hours. From there you will be sent directly to Commander Terrance. I'm not going to lie to you. Things are bad. Besides the huge creature laying waste to the city, there are thousands of smaller creatures pouring into the city nonstop."

"The barrier between Fomoria and Sheol has weakened so much that the worlds are merged in places," Sarrow says, her expression grim. "Melephos' creations can cross into this world from there." General Conway stares blankly.

"Basically General, the city is now a portal where monsters can enter our world," I say.

"Yeah, we know that," Conway says. "How do we stop it?"

"You cannot," Sarrow says. "With enough time the worlds will drift apart, returning to their own space time. This might take days or even years. In the history of the five worlds never has such a thing happened before. So an accurate guess is impossible."

"I see," the man says, clearly not getting it. I don't bother to explain. Things must change Palentor had said. I can see now how difficult that will be.

"There are fresh clothes in the back where you can change," Conway offers.

"Thanks. Is there any food on this flight?" I ask, realizing it has been some time since I last ate. "I'll have someone come by with some MREs," he says, standing up. As he extends his hand I stand, giving his a firm shake. "I don't know what's going on. But we're counting on you."

With the weight of the world on my shoulders I head into the back with Sarrow. I open up several overhead compartments in the cramped space, grabbing containers full of clothes. Digging through them I have trouble finding anything to fit my scrawny frame. Finally, I select a pair of army pants and a long-sleeve, black shirt. I make a quick, makeshift scabbard for Worldkey, swinging it around my shoulder and shoving the shadow wood pendant in my pocket. Sarrow can't find anything to fit her child-like body so she remains in her robe with her own sword still concealed beneath.

Returning to our seats General Conway is there holding two tin foil wrapped meals. Handing one to each of us he begins describing the situation back home. It is far worse than I feared but not enough to prevent me from eating. Digging into the food I wonder if I am accidently eating the package which might have more flavor. Sarrow too looks like she'd rather confront the unspeakable again.

"The food of Fomoria leaves a lot to be desired," Sarrow saysy.

"This is soldier rations only. Wait until you try ice-cream," I say. Exhausted from the day's trials we rest as best we can in the chair, listening to the report of the destruction of Chicago.

We are woken fifteen minutes prior to landing and return to our seats. Sarrow does let out a small squeak as the plane hits the landing strip, but is otherwise ok. From there we board an already prepped helicopter flying to my home... or what's left of it.

Destruction reminiscent of an unending bombardment seems to have laid waste to the landscape. I can't even recognize any familiar buildings as we fly overhead. Half fallen buildings lay everywhere and most of the smaller structures are crumbled like a, F5 tornado came through. Several patches are gone, replaced by parts of Melephos' world of Sheol. In spots desert lay like bubbles in stark contrast to the man-made landscape surrounding it. I feel a sudden jerk as we soar high. Leaning out slightly, I spot a cloud of dust followed by a thick black tentacle erupting from it. It is massive, wrapping all the way around a nearby skyscraper, crumbling part of it as the rest of the body emerges from the cloud. Melephos is more terrible in person than I could have imagined. Shiny black with ten long tentacles around a central body, Melephos is akin to a nightmare ocean horror. Gazing down into that center of that terrible creature I feel fear chill my core as a single massive eye of blood red opens just above a circular maw that we could fly through. I can't be sure but I think the entire mouth cavity is lined with insect like legs that move continuously. Although I have no reason to suspect such I feel that Melephos is looking right at me. Quick as a snake a massive tentacle whips out, snatching up a derailed train and hurling a passenger compartment right at us.

"Shit!" The pilot roars, sending us into a nose dive. The train compartment twice as big as the helicopter soars just overhead, narrowly missing us.

"Get us out of here!" I roar into the headset. "Melephos knows I'm here!"

More improvised projectiles, ranging from cars and buses to steel girders are launched at us in rapid succession. Holding on for dear life we rock violently back and forth as Melephos tries to swat us from the sky.

"Who's brilliant idea was this?" My shadow calls out unseen from the cockpit.

"Can't you do something?" I yell.

"Not a damn thing!" My shadow yells and I have no choice but to trust the pilot. Another five minutes pass where I am sure I am going to be crushed to death at any second and we are finally out of range.

Sarrow presses her small face into my shoulder. "Brother, that was truly terrifying. Melephos' wrath towards you is without equal."

"Wait until I bring Belaroth here," I say.

We land twenty minutes later just outside a heavy military outpost. There I am greeted by a haggard looking man in full army camo with a hard glint in his deep brown eyes. Disembarking the helicopter with Sarrow, the man approaches, saluting me.

"Sir, I'm Lieutenant Xavier. I have orders to escort you to command immediately," the man says.

"Lead the way," I say, following quickly behind him. Military equipment of all kinds are being shuffled around as large trucks with missiles on them line up toward the city. Overhead the roar of fighter jets interrupts even the noise around me as they zoom past, heading further into the warzone. Distant explosions can be heard like approaching thunder. I have no illusions. Both Palentor and Sarah made it clear that this is little more than an annoyance to Melephos.

Entering the command tent I get a quick look at a table with a sunken monitor on it. Dozens of individuals are clustered around it, pointing out various things when a white blur fills my vision.

"Shifter!"

I back pedal as the furry mass lands on my shoulder, licking my face vigorously.

"Whisper!" I say pulling him off me and crushing him to my chest. My heart aches with joy as I bury my face into his fur. "God, how I've missed you." Pulling him back from me with both hands I examine him critically. "Have you put on weight?"

"It's Sarah's fault," he says in his purring voice. "She keeps giving me bacon."

"Then refuse," I say grinning.

"Are you insane?" Whisper says, shocked.

"Oh great, the rat is still alive," my shadow says, becoming a silhouette on the far wall ignored by all the humans.

I think Whisper is about to say something when Sarah plows into me, her white blond hair tickling my face. "Oh, thank god you're here," she says just before our lips meet, squishing Whisper between us. A feeling of mind numbing bliss pushes all else from my mind until we are separated by a clearing of throats. Pulling away from Sarah I am suddenly aware that we are not alone. Five individuals, all in army attire are around the central computer, looking at us with a mixture of amusement and annoyance on their faces. Sarah too has army attire on which looks awesome on her athletic frame.

"Miss Clifford, I would like you to retain your composure, we have much to discuss. You might be a civilian advisor but I expect a level of professionalism from everyone," one man says, looking stern. He is bald with dark, weather-worn skin and hard green eyes. Unshaven with pronounced bags under his eyes, he is in desperate need of sleep. Despite this he stands straight and alert. The man's very posture screams discipline.

"I'm sorry, Commander Terrance," Sarah says blushing, looking away from them all.

"So you're him, huh?" Terrance says looking me over. "I can tell you I've had one hell of a week. First miss Clifford here shows up with a supposed god telling us all about these other worlds and some crazy named Solarkar. Then a gateway of sorts opens up and monsters pour into the streets followed by a creature that makes Godzilla look tame. I heard all about you from Clifford. How you can travel into other worlds at will. The fact that you are conversing with the ferret when no one hear anything besides squeaking is not reassuring. I don't really have any choice but to believe all this. Not with that monster out there destroying everything."

"No, you don't," Sarrow says a bit sternly. "And you should address my brother with more respect. He has undergone trials in other worlds that you cannot comprehend. Facing the Five themselves, all to help you."

"Brother?" Sarah and Whisper gasp.

"Oh, yeah," I say sheepishly, putting Whisper on my shoulder. "This is Sarrow, my half-sister. Sarrow this is Whisper and Sarah. She is the one from my dreams. I'll tell you everything later, right now we have a god to deal with."

"Commander Terrance," Sarah says. "I assure you that whatever plan Jerry Price has devised will work. If you don't believe all that you've seen I'm sure he will gladly shift you to another world for proof." Now he looks uncertain as do the others in the room.

"I can do it but I need to save my strength for what I have to do next," I say.

"And that is?" Commander Terrance says.

"I will bring Belaroth to this world. She has offered aid to Palentor to drive back Melephos," I say. Both Sarah and Whisper gasp but of the five men in the room none of them understands the significance of my words.

"I don't care about you bringing more people here, damn it!" Commander Terrance says hotly. "I want a solution to that monster out there!"

"That is exactly what the boy is suggesting," says a voice behind me. Turning, I see a wizened old man there in a long, white robe. He has a lengthy white beard that nearly reaches his waist with a gnarled staff in one hand. He is the perfect image of wizards from ancient stories.

"You..." Commander Terrance says, going pale.

"Yes, me," the old man agrees. "Again Jerry, I wish to thank you for agreeing to undergo this trial. I'm sorry that the people here do not fully comprehend what is about to occur."

"Palentor?" I say. I hope this isn't his true form. If so this will be harder than I thought.

"Yes," Palentor says and then adds, as if answering my unasked question, "This body is merely a puppet which I use when I converse in the human world. But worry not, I am nearby waiting for Belaroth's arrival. Then we shall drive back the devourer." Turning to Terrance he adds, "Commander there is one job you have left to do. Transport this boy to the center of the city so that he may bring Belaroth here. Once that is done, take no action other than continuing to evacuate civilians. Belaroth and I will handle the rest."

Terrance swallows then turns to one of the men at the table. "Get a dozen choppers ready and fully loaded in the next thirty minutes."

"Sir!" The man says, saluting then running out as fast as he can.

"Can you really do this?" Terrance says, looking at me.

"Yes," I say.

"I don't know exactly what is going on but I'm going with you," Sarah says.

"Me too," chirps Whisper, pressing his face to mine.

"No," I say flatly. "This is my job alone. It will be dangerous enough with only me there. I want you both to stay here and look after Sarrow."

"Brother, I..." Sarrow begins.

"That includes you too," I say sternly. "If things go bad for me, Solarkar will still be out there. I'll need you to help Sarah and Whisper deal with him." Pulling Whisper off my shoulder, I place him in her arms. He looks into her purple eyes before addressing me.

"Shifter, please take me with you," he says.

"Sorry," I say, giving his head a pat. "I really want to but this is something I have to do alone."

"I feel the same, great warrior Whisper of the Bartendor clan," Sarrow says, scratching behind his ears. "Brother, I understand your concern. But you are being foolish. We are all in peril now. You will need help after you bring Belaroth here. You might even die just trying to do so. Let us take care of you when the time comes."

"Damn right!" Sarah says, standing next to Sarrow. "There is no way in hell I'll let you go out there alone." I want to protest, yo keep them safe. But they are right. I might need help just getting to Belaroth and most definitely will need it after.

"I'll fly you there," a man says from around the table. "I'm the best pilot the army's ever seen."

"Bro, you haven't flown in years," Sarah says, giving him a hard look.

_Bro?_ Looking at him, I now see the resemblance. He has blonde hair not as light as Sarah's but close, with darker skin from constant sun exposure. Most notably he has her cool blue eyes.

"It'll be fine," Sarah's brother says. Then he extends a hand toward me. "Captain James Clifford."

"Jerry Price," I say clasping his hand.

"You know, I thought Sarah invented you just to get me off her back about finding a nice guy to settle down with. Then I thought she went crazy telling everyone about other worlds. I actually was thinking of getting her help at Greenbroch when all this shit went down. Now, I think I need a long weekend there myself," James says.

"I think we all could use one after this mess is done," I offer.

He gives me a warm smile, "True enough. I will get a small company together. Its not safe deep inside the city. Creatures are all over the place, killing everything they see. We will buy you time for whatever it is you're going to do."

"As will I," Sarrow says, revealing her sword.

"I will go too and show these creatures the might of the Bartendor clan!" Whisper squeaks from Sarrow's free arm.

"Oh goody," my shadow says, disgusted. "Shall we all share our feelings now and hug?"

Fifty minutes later I wish we did do a group hug. We are flying high over the city with a dozen helicopters, the hum of the blades and blare of machine gun fire filling the sky along with the hundreds of winged creatures swarming us. Melephos has been active since I saw him last, now the sky and ground are filled with horrors.

"What the fuck is all this?" Sarah shouts into her head set. Not waiting for a reply she leans out the open door, aiming a large rifle at a flying monstrosity. It has three heads, each with a sucker face eerily similar to a sea lamprey. The size of a small horse they flutter with large, bat-like wings and long, three-clawed feet. Squeezing off several rounds she hits it full center, dropping it from the sky.

"Melephos has called forth the creations from his world," Sarrow says into her headset. She is quickly catching on to how things work here.

"I thought Melephos consumed all his creations," I say, watching Sarah sniper another.

"He did consume many," Sarrow agrees. "Many more still remain and these are vastly loyal to him. Melephos must be concerned about your presence, Jerry. It is possible he has become aware of Belaroth and is aware of our plan."

"How is that possible?" I ask.

"Perhaps Solarkar has a spy in our midst or, more likely, he actually saw Belaroth at the disruption zone. An ancient one's presence is a hard thing not to notice. Combine that with your arrival and they might have guessed our plan since they have already done the same thing," Sarrow says grimly.

"We could turn back and take a different route," I say.

"No, we can't," James' voice says over the headset. "There are even more behind us."

"Could we land and shift then?" Sarah asks.

I grimace. "No, I need all my strength for this task and I don't think Sarrow is strong enough to shift that many humans. We would have to leave everyone to die."

"My brother is correct," Sarrow says. "We have no choice but to fight our way there."

"Shit!" James says and from the open door I see a helicopter go down covered in the flying lampreys. The rotator blades are physically stopped by several corpses jammed into the piston. A moment later a small fireball erupts below us.

"We're going to land," James calls out. "We will have to the rest on foot."

_Crap. How much further do we have to go?_ Sending my sight forth I can no longer see the flock of horrors screeching around usor Melephos. Instead the landscape below me changes into the lush jungle of Whisper's world of Elysium. There, dominating the landscape, is Belaroth as big as a mountain.

Long ago the only dragon Zinneth had said, 'Dragons had the wild harmony of Belaroth.' At the time I didn't fully understand what he meant. Looking down at Belaroth I now know. Belaroth is a gigantic, wingless dragon. Belaroth is so big that she could simply step on Zinneth and be done with it. A rich gold color, Belaroth has a long neck and tail with large spikes starting at her head and traveling the entire length of her body where it ends in a large cluster, like a primeval mace from hell.

"Belaroth isn't far away," I say bringing my sight back to my world. "Land now."

"Good, we have to anyways," James says as another helicopter spirals out of control.

My stomach lurches as we plummet down. The ground is covered in creatures of all sizes and shapes. I am wondering how the hell we can land when a series of lightning bolts lance from the darkening sky above, all hitting the same position below us, and killing all.

"Palentor is aiding us," Sarrow says simply.

_Oh, is that all?_ "I'll be sure to invite him to the victory barbecue later then," I say.

Landing with ease on charred and blackened earth, I quickly jump out followed by Sarrow holding Whisper. Sarah is next. She's already swinging her gun around, looking for targets. Other helicopters land all around us as men disembark with anti-tank arsenal. Setting Whisper down I quickly bend over, shifting him back to his world. Expanding to his original size Whisper is much larger than the helicopters now. Sarrow, reaching through reality, shifts him back to Earth. Now Whisper is on earth with his full size. Sarrow did say that I could learn to control my power of changing reality given time, but right now there is none.

"Finally, time to kick ass," Whisper says.

"Only for a little bit," I correct. "You will gain imbalance and have to go home to work it off."

"No problem, Shifter," Whisper says. "I think those are of much greater concern." With a flick of his massive white head he indicates the rather large host between us and Belaroth. Creatures of all sizes and shapes are charging toward us and I feel like a five year old playing against a professional football team.

"Shit," I say as all those around me open fire with everything from assault rifles to hand-held missile launchers. Pulling Sarrow aside, I yell loudly, "I can shift here and meet Belaroth on her world and shift her from there."

"You cannot," Sarrow says, pointing out something that makes my heart sink. In the distance I can clearly see Solarkar at Belaroth's location, holding a sigil stone in his only hand with a dozen or so Hivetung beside him. "Solarkar is ready for us, brother. We must fight our way to him and destroy the sigil stones. Even with the power of the Worldkey it would be impossible for you to shift Belaroth against the sigils. Shifting Belaroth all by herself will be difficult enough as it is."

Sarah, who is close to us, sees Solarkar. "If he has sigil stones that means he can't shift either." Giving a grin that my shadow would be proud of she takes aim. A deafening crack and I ee Solarkar giving an exaggerated twirl, clutching his shoulder before going down.

"Shit," Sarah curses. "Only winged him."

"A most excellent shot, Sarah of house Clifford," Sarrow says. "But the traitor Solarkar is the least of our concerns." Brandishing her sword I unsheath Worldkey also as the horde of Melephos reaches us.

It's like someone took an alien zoo put all the creatures together in a single pot. Some have rock-like armor, others have non-bipedal bodies that trot awkwardly at us. Others slither like high speed slugs with big mouths and twitching tentacles. Gun fire erupts all around us, blowing many apart in chucks of gore. It's drops in the bucket, there are just too many of them.

"Hold the line here!" James roars over all the noise. Turning to me he yells, "There's too many! We can't get through!"

"Cover us!" I yell back climbing atop Whisper with Sarrow and Sarah. "We can make it!"

"You got it!" James says, looking up into Whisper face.

"Don't worry, I got them!" Whisper says in his purring tone.

"Damn, you really can talk!" James yells, then faces his menand bellows into the dimming evening sky. "All right boys, lay down cover fire for the huge-ass talking ferret!"

If the absurdity of the order bothers the men they give no sign. This entire fight is already something out of this world. With a great leap to our left Whisper is off, trying to circle behind the horde. Immediately everything changes. Sarrow is right, the creatures obey Melephos. As one they all stop charging the humans, focusing entirely on us. Whisper, dashing with the speed of a cheetah, out runs any and all get close are brought down. I hold on for dear life as Whisper suddenly turns, dashing into the horde itself. Performing a rather spectacular jump off some type of shelled creature we are past them, heading to Belaroth. A rain of explosions shatters the ground just behind us as grenades and other incendiaries are ignited between us and the horde. A wash of intense heat hits us but we press on, nearly there.

Wielding spears and swords, the Hivetung arrange themselves protectively around three sigil stones. Leaping off Whisper all three of us do a tuck and roll, letting Whisper charges ahead. Sarah shoots at the nearest group, going for their heads and thin necks. Flashes of crimson paint the ground as two fall. Charging forth with Sarrow beside me I twirl Worldkey in a blinding arc, severing the nearest hivetung sword like it was just a dry old stick. The hivetung gapes at the ruined weapon as Sarrow cuts his leg off. Giving a cry of pain the hivetung topples sideways onto her raised sword. The last hivetung guarding the first stone cries out in dismay at his fallen comrades until Worldkey cuts through his defensively held spear and torso in a single blow. I feel almost no resistance as I shear through it without any blood staining the blade. The Five might have made this to act like a key to the worlds but it sure feels like a weapon right now. Kneeling down Sarrow touches the center of the sigil stone, deactivating it.

I half expect Solarkar to run out here but all I see is a trail of the distinctive blue blood leading away from the fight. I am half tempted to follow but know I can't. Solarkar isn't important now. What is important is the hulking shape of Melephos drawing ever closer.

Whisper plows into the far group, taking a spear in his flank but killing all three hivetung and crushing the sigil stone in the same instance. Seeing the crimson blossom on his fur I want nothing more than to rush to his side. But I know what's at stake here. I charge the last group with Sarrow. One suddenly falls as three rounds, fired in rapid succession, turn its face into a shattered watermelon. The other two back-pedal a step only to have a hulking shadow appear behind them.

"Boo!" My shadow says before falling on them. They are still struggling slightly as I reach the final stone, slashing it in two with Worldkey. Reaching out with my power I feel no resistance. Around this spot there are so many bubbles of reality that it reminds me of Swiss cheese. Pockets of desolation are everywhere.

"Ok, get back, I'm bringing Belaroth here," I say.

Sarrow embraces me in a hug followed by Sarah. "I hope you know what you are doing," Sarah says.

"Endure this, brother," Sarrow says. Then they are taking up a position nearby, Sarah shooting Melephos' horde while Sarrow shifts a few away.

"Don't die, Shifter," Whisper says, coming up to me, blood still freely leaking from his wound.

"Protect them," I say.

"I will," Whisper promises, rubbing his face to mine for a brief moment. We have been through so much together, I have to believe that this isn't the end. Then Whisper is off, leaping high and tackling a large creature that almost gets Sarah. No time left.

Sending my sight forth into Whisper's world I reflesively take a step back as an eye bigger than I am looks right at me.

_It is time_ , a voice says in my head.

"Belaroth?" I ask out loud.

_Yes, it is I. Quickly bring me over so I may deal with this violation_ , Belaroth says.

_NOOOOO!_ A voice screams directly into my head sending everyone and everything into convulsions. Melephos is very near now and his telepathic cry is heard by all. No longer is anyone fighting. Even the creatures have collapsed, clutching their heads. I can't focus. It's like a pair of cymbals are being slammed over and over across my ears. I try to focus enough to shift but it is useless. Clutching my head I hold my ears tightly, trying to think, trying to do something but I can't. Then suddenly it's gone and I can think clearly again. Marveling, I look up and see everyone else still writhing on the ground.

"What the..." I begin.

"Hurry up, idiot," my shadow says seemingly from inside my own head. "Melephos is almost here." It's true. I can even feel the disturbance in reality Melephos causes, presumably by the still alive visions users fused in his flesh. Any second a thick tentacle would be turning me into paste. Reaching outward I lay a hand on Belaroth across the worlds and the other on Worldkey. Drawing strength from it and my shadow I shift.

In my time I have shifted a great deal of things. The Bartendor clan at our battle of the hive, various humans ranging from Sarah to my uncle, and even shifting some enemies away to another world, but never have I felt such pain. Shifting Belaroth, despite Worldkey's power and the disturbed reality, is the hardest thing I have ever done. My entire lifetime of shifting cannot compare to this one single action. I feel things break inside me as a burning sensation fills my entire being. Yet I hold on, dragging Belaroth the Balancer to the world of Fomoria.

I can't feel my hand at all. I can see it resting atop a single gold scale bigger than I am, yet I can't feet it or anything at all. A tremor shudders through my entire body. Falling to one knee I plant Worldkey into the earth, holding on for dear life. Taking my hand from Belaroth's scale takes far more effort than it should have as I struggle to lift my head to meet that huge gold rimed eye.

_You have done it, Jerry of clan Shifter. I truly did not think you able. Rest now, I shall deal with the devourer_ , Belaroth's voice says warmly in my mind. The eye is suddenly gone as Belaroth raises her head far above the ground, facing Melephos. The challenging roar that echoes in the rapidly darkening sky disrupts Melephos psychic cry and acts like a shock wave, stopping Melephos dead in its tracks.

"Jerry!" Sarah yells.

"Brother!" Sarrow cries.

"Shifter!" Whisper shrieks. All of them rush to me. I can hear them but can't find the strength to respond. I see the horde of Melephos scatter behind them. They are no longer interested in the fight at all. Some run to the nearest pocket of reality, returning home, but most go deeper into the city.

"This is bad," a weak voice says from nearby. Looking down I see my shadow at my feet, barely a gray patch on the pavement. "I can't move."

I want to say something but can't, I just kneel there. Even as the ground shakes as Belaroth charges Melephos, plowing into him and sending buildings crumpling from the shockwave, I can do nothing.

"Oh my god," Sarah's voice says right next to me. _When did she get here?_ I try to respond but can't.

"He's hemorrhaging in the brain," Sarrow says gripping my chin, bringing her face close to mine. "This can happen if someone shifts something too great." From my new view point I see Belaroth's mouth close around a black tentacle of Melephos, tearing it off. An inhuman scream fills the night, shattering windows for miles around. Reacting with the speed of an angry squid Melephos swings around, wrapping all of his remaining limbs around Belaroth. The two behemoths wrestle until a new figure appears in the sky. Angelic, it has large, pure white wings. It has the body of a man, but hundreds of times greater in size. Not nearly the size of Melephos or Belaroth but still massive, with a long beard and hair the same color as its wings. Wearing armor composed of light itself, the figure holds a staff in one hand that is bigger than a redwood tree. Descending like a meteor, the figure lands on top of Melephos, pummeling him with his staff. At each strike an explosion like thunder and a flash of light shake the land. All stand transfixed as the ancient ones do battle.

"Hey, dying over here," my shadow says weakly, drawing everyone's attention back to us.

"We need a doctor," Sarah's weak voice says. "He's bleeding from the eyes and ears." I should have been alarmed by this, but I can't find the strength to be.

"There is no time," Sarrow says sadly her eyes filling with tears.

"Hey, girly," my shadow says, fading rapidly into nothing. "Give me your shadow for a moment."

"What?" Sarrow says, blinking away tears.

"No time left," my shadow says. "You want to save us? Then bring out your shadow and have it merge with me."

Sarrow looks confused but nods, closing her eyes briefly. Inky blackness leaks from her eyes, mouth and ears, draining into a puddle that quickly slithers into my dim shadow. A mixture of gray and black swirl as ancient gods fight behind us unnoticed. Gradually they separate, a dim shadow leaking back into Sarrow who slumps and a familiar dark silhouette forms before us.

"That's better," my shadow says, grinning down at the now exhausted Sarrow. "You'll be fine. Just get some rest. Now your turn, Shifter." Leaning close to me still in Sarah's arms my shadow floods my face. Blackness fills my vision and for an insane moment I wonder if I died. Then it draws away and I feel a pressure on my ears like someone blowing really hard on them. A moment later things come into focus and the unreal feeling I had recedes. Lifting my head from Sarah's lap I let out a groan, clutching my head.

"What's going on?" I say stupidly.

"Oh Jerry!" Sarah says crushing me to her bosom which I find more distracting than the battling gods a short distance away.

"Shifter!" Whisper roars, covering me entirely with his soft pink tongue.

"Ah, Whisper!" I say, my hair plastered to my face with saliva.

"Thank the Five you are all right, brother," Sarrow says, not rising from the ground. I try to rise to help but find I don't have the strength.

"What happened?" I ask. Everything after I shifted Belaroth was hazy.

"You were dying," Sarrow says. "Your shadow took the strength of my corruption to replenish its own. Then it entered you, stabilizing your brain."

"He did that?" I say, shocked.

"Sure did, fool," my shadow's voice says from inside my own mind. _Great, now I am hearing voices._ "I'm fixing the damage in here but no more shifting for a while. Shift even a pebble and the whole thing might explode."

_Thanks_ , I say silently in my own mind.

"Can't let you die now, can I," my shadow says. "Besides life is just getting interesting. Speaking of which, how goes the god battle royale?"

Supported by Sarah I turn my head with a great deal of effort to watch the fray. Black ichor from Melephos is everywhere, covering entire cars like some type of demonic snow fall. Three tentacle arms lay severed, still thrashing in the city ruins crushing cars as they lash around.

_Looks like Melephos is down three limbs and squealing like a baby_ , I mentally say. I feel more than hear my shadow chuckle.

"Sarah!" James Clifford's voice shouts as he and a dozen men race to us.

"James, we need to get Jerry to a hospital now!" Sarah shouts in return.

"I'm ok now," I say weakly. "Just need to rest and no more shifting."

Reaching us James bends down to examine me. "Can you move?"

"I don't think so," I say. "Sarrow needs help too. We should get the hell out of here in case the fight is dragged this way."

"You heard him, let's move it!" James bellows to the men watching the gods fight. Each supporting me under one arm, Sarah and James lead me to the helicopters with a man behind us carrying Sarrow easily all by himself. Whisper, still huge, walks beside us, scanning for danger.

"Sarrow, can you shift Whisper home?" I say.

"I'm not leaving you, Shifter!" He protests.

"I know that, my friend," I smile. "It will just be for a short time. I can't shift you back to this reality for awhile and you're too big to fit in the helicopter. Go home to your people. Once my strength is back I'll find you."

"You are my home," Whisper says and I smile at him.

"I can do it, brother," Sarrow says, looking very childlike with her entire body held off the ground by the man in army fatigues. "My exhaustion is not from shifting but a drain of my corruption. Come to me, Whisper."

Looking sadly at me Whisper goes to Sarrow who gently lays a hand on his face. "We will see you again, great warrior Whisper," Sarrow says.

"Tell the younglings I said hi," I call out.

"Don't worry, Whisper, I'll take care of Jerry," Sarah says, still supporting my weight. With a nod from Whisper Sarrow shifts him back to Elysium. I watch him as he bounds off into the canopy.

"I'll see you again soon, my friend," I say to no one in particular.

Loading into the helicopters we soar high in the air and I get a perfect aerial view of the fight. I smile, finally something is going my way. Melephos is a mess, his black body is covered in wounds splashing the entire area in black ichor. Several torn limbs lay barely twitching as Belaroth and Palentor tears him apart a piece at a time. Yet Melephos fights back with the ferocity of a cornered beast. Several deep gouges ruin the perfection of Belaroth's gold scales and her blood flows freely. Red mixes with the black on the ground. Palentor has also taken several hard blows and one of his arms hangs limp at his side. The battle rages on as we fly overhead, Melephos receiving blow after blow. Then suddenly he is gone, vanishing like he had never been there.

"What the hell is going on?" Sarah yells, watching the spot where Melephos had been.

_It is over_. A voice says in my head.

_Belaroth?_ I reply in like.

It is I, Belaroth telepathically sends. _The devourer has retreated to his own world. There he shall remain for a long time, recovering from his losses. Your world is safe from him._

_He can't come back?_ I ask mentally.

_No, we can return to our worlds at will but not leave the same. The devourer will plague you no more._ Belaroth says.

_Thank you so much for saving us_ , I think to her. _We wouldn't have made it without you_.

_Perhaps or perhaps not_ , Belaroth says _. You have impressed me a great deal, Jerry of clan Shifter. It is I who should thank you for restoring balance to the five worlds. Now it is my time to depart as well for this is Palentor's world and mine calls to me. Palentor awaits your return. Farewell._

_Farewell, Belaroth_ , I think and the voice is gone.

"It's over," I say to Sarah and the rest. "We won."

"This fight is. But we've got thousands of other nasties still out there!" James' voice comes over my headset and I see him radio ahead to everyone.

We land amid a cheering group that puts a rock concert to shame. Being helped out of the chopper, I see Commander Terrance there with Palentor, both looking exceptionally pleased. The helicopter's engines power down as Palentor strides forward to me.

"It is done," Palentor says smiling. "The devourer has left our world. It will take him years to recover, possibly decades from this defeat."

"I know," I say. "Belaroth told me."

"I wish I could tell you that your trial is over, but everything changes now. This cannot be forgotten and the way between the worlds is open. Life will change. With you and your comrades here I know this world is in good hands. I leave it to you to decide your own fates. Farewell, Jerry Price." Without waiting for a reply he simply vanishes before everyone's eyes. One hell of an exit. But I know despite the cheer all around us that is not over. At least for me. Besides the hordes of monsters still in my home city one thing still remains...Solarkar.

### Chapter 23 – The Fallen Disciple

"I don't care," I protest loudly. "I'm sick of being here. I want to go get Whisper." It has been two days but the doctor refuses to discharge me or Sarrow. You would think they had more important issues to deal with. Creatures are still pouring forth from the holes in reality created by the vision users and the army is having a hell of a time containing them. The entire area is quarantined and affectionately labeled the crossing zone. Occasionally I hear explosions even at this distance as another monster meets its end. All over the newspapers and television are reports of the five worlds with physicists describing the multiverse theory to everyone or something along those lines. I can't follow any of it. Sarah had been a public figure during the whole vision mess and now she's a superstar describing our adventures to all who ask. I don't mind. I just wish I could see her on the television instead of just listening to the audio. I bet she looks great.

"Just a few more tests then we can..." says a man in a white lab coat.

"No," Sarrow says sitting next to me in our private hospital room. "We have our own affairs to attend. Our companion is waiting for us in another world. I'm sure he's anxious to return." The irony of the comment is not lost on me. Only a month ago such a statement would have led to serious questions about our mental stability. Now the doctor simply nods in agreement.

"The army should have faxed over my release documents already," I say.

"They did," he says with a defeated sigh. "I'll get the discharge papers. Can I have just one more blood sample?" He asks Sarrow tentatively. Doctors and scientists have been pestering us both nonstop since we got here.

"I am not interested in your desires to remove my life fluid," she says tartly. "Besides it hurts."

"Should I mess with the man," my shadow says. "I'm bored."

"Better not," I say facing my shadow. "He's just curious."

"Who are you talking too?" the doctor says.

With a flick of my head I indicate the darker shadows where my shadow leans casually against the wall. "Just my shadow, he's getting bored."

"Oh, well I'll get the discharge papers ASAP then," the doctor says, heading into the chaos of the main hall.

I shake my head. "I'm not used to people actually believing me," I say.

"Why not, brother?" Sarrow says, looking perplexed.

"They can't see the things the way we do," I say.

My phone resting on the table near the bed, rings. The distinctive sound of the R.E.M song _The End Of The World_ fills the room. Reaching out, I flip it open.

"Jerry," I say.

"Hey, it's Sarah," comes the reply.

"Oh hi," I say cheerfully. "How did the interview go?"

"Great," she says. "I'm now an advisor to the Interworld Control Enforcement Agency or just ICE for short."

"Cool, congratulations," I say. "By the way, it looks like Sarrow and I are getting out today. We'll head to your place and how about we go out to eat later? Sarrow has expressed an interest in trying sushi."

Shortly after my check in at the hospital I was wondering where I would live since Sarah told me that all my belongings had been in lockup after my disappearance. So great was her confidence in my return, she got all of it out holding and took it to her home for me. Fortunately it is far away from the crossing zone and Sarah offered to let melive there with her. I was so touched that someone could believe in me that strongly. I can't wait to get settled into my new home with Sarrow, Whisper, and of course Sarah.

"Sounds like fun," Sarah says. "Don't tell her what wasabi is, ok?"

I laugh, "You're a very wicked woman."

"I'm wicked in many many ways," she says rather seductively. I swallow hard. Laughter fills the line at my silence. "I'll see you around five. Tomorrow we've got lots of requests for help. Damn creatures keep coming from the crossing zone. I promise I won't keep you up too long tonight. Love you."

"Love you too," I say hanging up.

Fetching the clothes that Sarah had brought us, we dress while waiting for the discharge papers. I have on my black trench coat over army pants and a deep green, long-sleeve shirt that Sarah said brings out the color of my eyes. Sarrow has on a large, black hoodie vest over a light blue long-sleeve shirt that helps to hide her skin tone. Wearing blue jeans and white sneakers my shadow affectionately says 'Kiraten in da hood.' We all laugh, even Sarrow who doesn't get it.

The papers come and an hour later we are standing outside my new home, Sarah's home. It is a comfortable house with two stories, a white picket fence and a nice, well-kept lawn. It's so stereotypical I want to laugh. I wonder what the neighbors would think of Whisper and Sarrow. Looking down at the key in my hand that Sarah had given me the other day I feel like nothing could go wrong. Opening the door, we go inside. Like the outside it's comfortable with pleasant carpeting and hardwood floors. Heading into the dark living room we go to a stack of boxes with the label 'Jerry' stenciled on the side in Sarah's crude handwriting. Then a voice speaks right behind us.

"I can't believe you did it," the voice says. "Are you a monster?"

Spinning, I scan the room for the voice. There it is, sitting in a recliner bathed in shadow. The figured leans forward slightly, his facing entering the dim light of the room. It is Solarkar. He looks awful, like he has been drinking steadily for a month. His green hair is plastered to his face and is so filthy that the green luster it had is gone. The sigil armor he had before is completely out and cracked in dozens of spots. He holds no weapon just a sigil stone which he activated and I felt the worlds close off to me.

"I knew your plan, you know," Solarkar says leaning back into the seat as if talking to an old friend. "I saw Belaroth waiting there. Then Melephos said you were coming. But never in a million cycles did I believe you ever had a chance to succeed. Shifting an ancient one to Fomoria all by yourself. Even now, after I saw it with my own eyes, I can't believe it."

I say nothing, wishing I had kept Worldkey with me instead letting Sarah take our weapons here, hospital policy be damn. I wonder if I can distract Solarkar long enough for Sarrow to find it.

"You even freed the Shame of Valerdon. No doubt she was instrumental to your success. I don't understand how it all went wrong. The plan was perfect until you had to ruin everything," Solarkar says not rising.

"Yeah, I'm a real pain in the ass," I offer.

"Traitor Solarkar," Sarrow says. "Return to Inti and submit yourself before Valerdon so at least you may gain honor in death. Melephos has been defeated and your plot to overthrow Fomoria thwarted. You have nothing to gain by remaining here."

"That's where you are wrong, Shame of Valerdon," Solarkar says. "I have you and the boy." With that he rises slowly to his feet a hivetung sword that had been leaning against the wall now in his only hand.

"I made deals that no one should make to get this far and YOU RUINED IT ALL!" Solarkar screams. "I will take the girl's head and present it to Valerdon. With his shame dead I might be forgiven. As for you boy, had I realized what you were capable of I would have killed you instead of allowing you to go free like I was told to."

_Told to? Someone told him to let me go free?_ "What the hell are you talking about?" I say.

"They gave me a lot." Solarkar is a bit unsteady on his feet. "After my banishment he came to me. Shifted me to Pandedonium and told me that the Miasma of the Dead could free me from the Razoha, if I was willing to pay their price. What a heavy price it was but with the world I would gain the cost would have been minimal."

"Even the Drow fear the forbidden pool and you willingly made a deal with them all for power?" Sarrow says, disgusted. "You have fallen far, Solarkar."

"I DON'T EXPECT YOU TO UNDERSTAND, SHAME OF VALERDON!" Solarkar roars. "IT WAS MY PLACE TO LEAD! I WAS BORN TO GREATNESS! IT SHOULD BE MINE!"

"Who told you to let me go?" I yell.

Solarkar stops his mad ranting, regarding me closely. "I thought he must have been your sire, boy. After all why care about some brat born of human and Kiraten? He set me up in this city with several human assistants helping me with vision provided that I obey his will regarding you. Did he know that this would happen?" Solarkar seems to be talking more to himself than us. Spotting Sarah's kendo sword laying atop of a box I slowly inch toward it.

"Now, now, none of that." A new voice says, entering the room from the hallway just beyond. He has lank, dead-looking, long black hair and sickly skin that looks like wet clay. Wearing clothes a homeless man would reject he stands before us surrounded by a reddish haze that makes the room twist and bend. Worst of all are his eyes, burning with the fires of hell. I know him instantly. There's no way in hell I could forget this presence of pure evil. He is the man I saw in the asylum the night I escaped.

"Miasma of the Dead..." Sarrow says her voice trembling in fear.

"What is it?" I say, recoiling from the man. I can feel the evil pouring off him.

"When a Drow dies they can merge with their shadows, existing as pure corruption. Over time they are driven mad and exist by infesting the bodies of others. Of all the five worlds only the dragons are more formidable."

"You know a lot about us, girl. Of course, you're his offspring so it's not surprising," the man with the reddish haze says. Turning to Solarkar he says, "The time has come for you to fulfill your promise."

"I know," Solarkar says. "The deal I made was that I would give them a powerful shifter who was able to traverse the worlds at will. I couldn't use you boy, per my earlier arrangement, so I thought after Fomoria was mine it would be a simple matter to invite the Kiraten to this world, if they accepted my rule. Then one of them would suffer a misfortune and my deal would be fulfilled. Now, I just don't care. TAKE THE BOY!"

The man shudders as a reddish cloud sprays from his mouth with the sound of a thousand angry bees. More keep pouring out as the man becomes emaciated, like he hadn't eaten in a month. Still more continue pouring forth until the body before us is little more than a mummified corpse, collapsing to the floor. Swirling the cloud shoots forward with unbelievable speed, engulfing me.

"No!" Sarrow screams but is powerless to help.

Burning fills my eyes, ears and nose like molten steel is melting its way into me. Dropping to the floor, I clutch my face, feeling my mind begin to unravel.

"No you don't, that's mine!" My shadow yells and the red is suddenly swirled with black as the two corruptions fight within me. Sarrow and Solarkar are yelling but I can't make sense of it. A final flash of pain and the red haze retreats, looking noticeably thinner, stretching into a red silhouette near Solarkar. My shadow also takes on the shape of a silhouette standing between me and the Miasma of the Dead.

"That is mine, you pathetic gnat cloud," my shadow says sneering. "Try that again and I'll show you what real corruption can do."

"Brother, are you all right?" Sarrow says kneeling next to me.

"Brother?" Solarkar says, looking at my shadow then to Sarrow. Suddenly his eyes to wide as he realizes the truth at last. "You're sire wasn't a Kiraten at all... It was the abomination!"

"I can't take this boy," the red haze says. "His corruption is even greater than I."

Solarkar ignores him, looking intently at me. "How could this be? He is dead and the Kiraten who helped me told me to spare you. Why would anyone do such! Unless... No, it can't be. ." I'm not sure what is more alarming, Solarkar's words or the look of absolute fear on his face. This Kiraten who would gladly sacrifice my world for his own ambitions is terrified.

"You promised me a powerful shifter and your time to pay has come," the red haze says dangerously. "The girl will not do either, for she is already with corruption."

"What?" Solarkar says, frowning at the red haze. Then, seeing the evil grin in silhouette, backpedals. "Wait! I can find you another! I promise I can find you another! Lots more! PLEASE NO!"

Those are the last words Solarkar ever said as the red haze swallows him. His eyes rupture like microwaved eggs as the red cloud forces its way in. Spasming violently Solarkar drops his sword, levitating slightly off the ground as the red mist takes him.

"Go find my sword!" I yell to Sarrow as I dash for Sarah's Kendo sword.

"It will not help!" Sarrow says. "The only way to stop it would be with shadow wood. We must flee now!"

Picking up the sword I face the thing formally known as Solarkar. "I have a still have my shadow wood pendant," I say flicking my head to the stack of belongings. "Find it, I'll keep it distracted."

"I think not," Not-Solarkar says, his voice like razors. He grins in the way only my shadow ever did, the grin of sheer malevolence. With a flick of his missing arm a stream of thick redness lashes out from the stump, slamming into Sarrow and sending her sprawling on the floor. She doesn't move.

"BASTARD!" I yell as I rush forward, swinging Sarah's sword in an arc.

Another flick of his stump and more red mist shoots forth. Moving even faster, my shadow comes between us, disrupting most of the attack. Enough does punch through him though, hitting me in the chest and knocking me over. Coughing, I get to my knees, glaring at the man.

"You are strong," the corrupted Solarkar says, his eyes a burning red haze. "As expected of his kin, but with this body I am stronger!" Striding forward he suddenly jerks as gunshots roar through the air. Three more rapid fire shots go off, one hitting Solarkar directly in the head. He just smiles. Both of us turn and I ee Sarah standing in the hallway, her mouth open in shock. As we watch the hole pulses and stretches, ejecting the bullet then closing together, leaving an ugly scar behind.

"That was rude, girl," corrupted Solarkar says as the red mist leaks from his stump. Acting like an extension of his arm, he latches onto the fallen hivetung sword by his feet. With a casual flick he hurls it as her.

Time slows as the blade cuts the air, sailing right for Sarah. _She will dodge. Then she will get back up as I decapitate this bastard and everything will be alright._ I believe that right up until the blade sinks into Sarah's chest, throwing her backwards to the floor. She never makes a sound. I blink, not trusting my sight. Surely that missed. There's no way that just happened. The world blurs around me as tears fill my eyes. Dropping my sword I run to Sarah. Surely only the hilt had hit her, knocking her down. That's all, she's fine. It can't be anything more than that.

Corrupted Solarkar laughs as I reach Sarah's side. Blood pools around her body, but that's ok. It must be from the other guy the Miasma was in before, not hers. The world is very watery now as I stumble, falling to my knees next to Sarah's prone figure. Hands trembling, I clutch my face and my fingers contort into claws as I drag them down my checks, feeling the blood flow. I can't lie to myself any more. The truth is sticking out of Sarah's chest as her head hangs limp on the floor, her white blond hair spreading out like a veil. She's already dead.

"No. No. No. NO!" I scream into the room over the laughter of the corrupted Solarkar. Reaching out with unfeeling hands I cradle Sarah's head in my lap. Tears pool on my chin, falling freely onto Sarah's blood splotched cheek, leaving small clean spots in their wake. This can't be happening. Not now, not after everything we've been through.

"Brother..." Sarrow says weakly, sitting up and holding her head.

"Oh, you're still alive?" Corrupted Solarkar says, shaking his head sadly. "I can't allow that." With a gesture, more red swirls out of him, swallowing Sarrow in its depths. Suddenly black surges all around her as her own shadow fights off the invading corruption.

"Brother!" Sarrow calls out as her shadow begins shrinking and the red mist draws nearer.

Rage blacker and deeper than anything I've ever felt fills me. I can feel a primal hate buried deep inside me burst forth as I grind my teeth together. Clenching my free hand so tightly that my fingernails pierce my own flesh, I am virtually unaware of the pain. The tears stop and I gently set Sarah's head down on the floor, feeling the murderous intent build inside me.

"We can do it together," my shadow says from next to me. "Neither of us can stop him, but together we can. Become one with me, it's the only way."

A deal with the devil. I don't hesitate. I can't even speak for the rage is simply too great. Looking at my shadow I see his dark silhouette glaring at Solarkar's body. I nod. I'd gladly accept anything that would allow me to tear Solarkar limb from limb. With an evil grin my shadow moves, enveloping me.

Instantly I feel the anger disappear. It isn't that the anger is gone but rather it has changed to something else. Into power itself. Everything stops feeling important except my desires. The world is immaterial and utterly unimportant. I can do anything I want to. Consequences no longer matter and right now I want to play. Letting out an evil laugh, I send forth a stream up darkness from my fingertips, shattering the red around Sarrow with contemptuous ease.

"That all you got?" I ask, my voice now a harsh rasp. "From all the talk of the Miasma of the Dead I thought you would at least have some decent power. How disappointing."

Striding forward I feel invincible; like the world is my plaything. I revel in it. Sarrow is slumped on the floor but she manages to lift her head. "Oh, brother... what have you done?"

"What I needed to do, girly," I say. "Now go back to sleep, I want to have some fun."

"How is this possible?" Corrupted Solarkar asks,his glowing red eyes expressing disbelief. "The Drow cannot merge with their shadows until after death. This should not be."

Although he hides it well I can taste the uncertainty and fear deep within him. It's intoxicating. Lashing out with blinding speed I send a jet of black corruption hurling at Solarkar, lifting him off his feet and propelling him into the far wall. The whole house shudders, spilling the stacked boxes. Falling to the floor Solarkar retaliates with his own blast of red corruption which I disrupt with a casual backhand.

"Can't you do any better?" I ask. Strolling forward, I send objects flying out of my way with a mere thought and a surge of corruption. Sarrow is on her feet now, furiously digging through my fallen things, but I ignore her. It doesn't matter. Solarkar kneels before me, holding the activated sigil stone in his only hand. With a flex of muscles the stone shatters under Solarkar's grip and the worlds open up before me. Giving me a triumphant smile he vanishes. Laughing I reach through reality and pull him back with ease, slamming him into the ceiling with a cascade of darkness.

"Silly little plaything. You aren't going anywhere. Now, let's see, what to do first?" I say, one hand streaming darkness to hold Solarkar in place, the other stroking my chin as I consider. "I know let's get rid of those pesky legs. Can't have you running off." The darkness engulfing Solarkar changes, collecting at his knees as I slowly pull them apart. With a ripping of ligaments and a tearing of muscles the flesh of the knee joints separate, stretching the skin comically thin before tearing off in an outpour of blue blood. It's like pulling the wings off a fly.

"Damn you!" Solarkar roared falling to the ground with a wet thwack sound. "What the hell are you?"

"Brother, do not lose yourself!" Sarrow calls, still digging in my belongings. Ignoring her I go right up to Solarkar, slapping him lightly on the cheek. I have to be sure he's paying attention.

"What to remove next?" I say looking him over. "So many choices. What is your favorite part?"

With a quick palm thrust Solarkar slams his fist against my chest in an explosion of red corruption, toppling me over.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" I boom. "That's more like it!" Jumping back to my feet I see Solarkar shift again and with a snort I bring him back. With another surge of corruption I tear his remaining arm off at the shoulder.

"It's like a real life Mr. Potato head doll!" I exclaim, waiting for him to do something interesting. Snarling in rage the red mist pours out of Solarkar, flying to the door. Solarkar's body collapses to the floor in an utter ruin. Sending out my own corruption I mix mine with the fleeing red. Struggling briefly the red slowly becomes darker and darker until it is no more. A fresh surge of power fills me as its corruption becomes mine.

"Simply marvelous," I say brushing off imaginary dust.

A shattering sound and the tinkle of falling glass gets my attention. Turning I see Sarrow standing before a broken full-length mirror, her hand a blue ruin where it had slammed into the reflective glass. Curious I watch as she picks up the largest piece in her bloody hand, the other held behind her back. Trembling she takes a tentative step toward me, her childish face fearful.

"Brother, come back to me," Sarrow says.

"Nah, I'm good now," I say dismissively. "Everything is stupendous!"

"Is it?" She asks and I don't like her tone. "Your corruption is consuming your mind. Soon nothing will be left. Everything that is you will be gone."

"Nonsense," I say. "I feel amazing! The entire world is at my whim."

"Is that what you want?" Sarrow says, drawing slowly closer. "What about Whisper? He's counting on you. You are his entire world."

An imagin of Whisper fills my head. Blissfully pure and white as snow with a heart far too big even when he is full size. I tremble at the thought before a surge of darkness takes the image away. I sigh, the impure thought gone.

"The rat?" I say. "Who cares? Leave the flea ridden beast where he is."

"What about me?" Sarrow says. "I want you here with me brother, not some toy of Shalarom."

Again at her words images and painful thoughts come up to the surface. But I don't like those; they make me feel things I don't want to feel anymore. Once again the darkness takes the pain away.

"You'll be fine," I say with a snort. "Once I train up your corruption, of course."

Lifting the mirror I see myself past the blue stained edges. _Damn, I look good_. I have a thick visceral aura of blackness around me, making my pale skin stand out in contrast. My eyes are dark opals. They are so black that I can see myself in them. The entire left side of my body is as dark as the void, like the light refuses to touch that part of me.

"Interesting," I say. Sarrow is right in front of me now. Looking into her purple eyes I see sweat trickling down her face. She begins moving toward the hallway, like she doesn't want my attention to wander from her.

"Brother, you must separate yourself from the corruption. If you do not all is lost," Sarrow says.

"Stop your meddling, little girl," I say viscously grabbing her chin. She never cries out as I squeeze and push her aside. Now, with Sarrow out of the way I clearly see Sarah lying there, dead. Pain fills me, greater than what the darkness could consume. I look away.

"NO, BROTHER. LOOK AT HER!" Sarrow shouts.

"I don't want to. It hurts too much," I say in my own voice, the hazy rasp gone.

"You must, for this is what it means to be free. Yes it hurts, but you must accept it. With time it will lessen and you will recall all the good times and be able to smile once more. Do not hide from it."

"NO! I DON'T WANT TO ACCEPT IT!" I bellow, getting ready to run. I will go and find more amusing playthings. I don't have to acknowledge the truth.

"What would Sarah want?" Sarrow says softly. That stops me. _What would she want?_ An image of Sarah so bright and strong appears in my thoughts that the darkness flees from it.

"She would want me... to be me," I say, my voice nearly a sob.

"Then do so," Sarrow says bringing out her concealed hand. She holds my shadow wood pendant in her palm, the sigil on its surface glowing just like it had been when I freed my shadow. The corruption fights me as I reach for it, my arm frozen half way. It's fighting me. Strangely enough it isn't my shadow fighting me but something else, something that had been buried inside. Some foreign force that had been awoken. I can feel it taking over when a fresh surge of darkness adds its strength to mine. It's my shadow. We are one and no words are needed but I know what he wanted to say. 'Fight fool!' Together we push the invader back as we grab the box.

Instantly I feel the pull like a high powered vacuum sucking out the corruption which claws at my soul, trying to stay in. A surge of brightness from the sigil and a strain of my will and the corruption leaves me, filling the box. Sagging to the floor as Sarrow cradles me, I cry, looking at Sarah's lifeless body. Stroking my hair she sings a soft sad melody that I can't make sense of, rocking me gently back and forth. Sarah is dead, I lost her. After a long long time we rise together and I make the phone call to her brother; telling him his sister is dead.

### Epilogue – It's A Mad Mad World After All

Sarah's memorial is a somber affair with hundreds showing up to expressing their grief in various ways. It's been just over two weeks and I still can't believe she is gone. After her death I want nothing more than to wallow in self-pity but with creatures still entering our world from Sheol there is little time for it. It's a welcome distraction. Now, with everything relatively under control, I am able to say my goodbye at last. Standing next to James and Sarrow, we all wear black, watching as the empty casket lowers into the ground. Having opted for cremation this is little more than ceremony but I feel it all the same. The pain I feel at her loss is still raw. I haven't slept much since the incident and when I do I am plagued by terrible dreams. I never had dreams before, but now they refuse to leave me alone.

"She was a great warrior and a valiant friend," Whisper says from my shoulder, the only white in a sea of black.

"That she was," Sarrow says. "Although my time with her was brief, I could see how she made Fomoria a vastly better place."

I say nothing as James tosses a bunch of white flowers onto the casket. "She was always getting into trouble," he says. "After our parents died I had such a hard time keeping her in line. Always off exploring, determined to do the right thing no matter what."

We listen in silence as the preacher does his sermon. I do my best not to think, turning away after it's over. I don't want to see the earth shoveled onto her grave. Walking back to the taxi with Sarrow, I am halted by James' hand gently resting on my shoulder.

"I just wanted to thank you," he says. "I know we didn't give you much time to grieve with all that's been happening, but I know Sarah would understand."

"Yeah, I know. I'm just glad I now get some time to rest," I say.

"Sure," James says. "Are you sure you don't want her house? I don't need it or anything."

"That's ok, Sarrow and I have a good place already. The army was kind enough to move us in. She even formally set up our business already, while I've been busy advising. Hell, I haven't even see it yet."

"Well Shifter Inc. is our only resident expert on the other worlds. I'll come by in a few days after you get a chance to rest. I'm going out to get shit-faced." He turns away toward his wife and kids waiting at their car giving us a wave as he goes.

"I would love to get shit-faced," my shadow says. "Ever since you polluted me things have been strange." I freed my shadow from the box just two days after Sarah's death. Strangely he blames me for everything. He said it was me or something in me that was taking us over. The dark animalistic side of humans might just be too strong. Sarrow however, believes that the different races were never meant to interbreed and there's no telling what such a combination might yield "Yeah, let's go get plastered," I say.

"We shall honor Sarah's memory and all those who died," Sarrow offers.

"Can we get pizza?" Whisper asks. "My sorrow is better drowned with lots of grease."

Days pass and I spend all of it lounging in my bed, my exhaustion and grief overwhelming me at last. Our new place is huge with a large open area up front with several smaller rooms around it. The previous owner had a dojo up front and it was perfect for Shifters Inc. In the back part is a segregated living space with the kitchen, bathrooms, and several bedrooms as well as a back door entrance I've been using. It was given to us by the army a payment of our 'consultant fee' for taking care of Melephos and for my work advising them on how to deal with his remaining horde. I told them it wasn't necessary, but they insisted. I do have to make a living somehow. Since then Sarrow has been busy setting things up. The army, convinced that she is a minor, has issues with her helping other than to shift Whisper in full-size on occasion. I haven't paid much attention to what she's doing. I've been so busy grieving and fighting that I left everything to her. She says she doesn't mind and appears to be enjoying herself. I am about to go see if she wants to go out in New Chicago, built around the ruins of the old city, when a face appears out of the wall next to me.

"Hey Jerry, I'm sorry about Sarah. I really liked her," Brick says.

"Yeah," I say. Then, for the first time since Sarah died I feel a spark of interest. I turn facing Brick, his face chalk white like the walls of my room. "Did you know about Melephos and everything that was happening?"

"Hell no!" Brick says. "I knew of Melephos of course, just not his name. We call him the devourer of life. With our limited shifting ability we stay away from our world as much as possible. When the imbalance gets too great we go back and often many never return. That's one of the reasons I like it around you, Jerry, I can stay much longer than normal. For some reason the imbalance doesn't accumulate as fast."

"It's because of my nature," I say. "I'm part Drow and Kiraten. I disrupt reality all around me."

"I guess that explains a lot," Brick says. "I did find it odd that more creatures seem closer to this world when you are around."

"A side effect, I guess," I say, shrugging. "Want me to shift you here? I change the reality of what I shift so you wouldn't ever have to return."

"Thanks, but no," Brick says. "Things are changing on my world with Melephos in hiding. My kind has banded together and a community of sort is coming together."

"Congrats," I say.

"Thanks," Brick says. "Now if you are done being lazy, you have a package on in your office."

"Office?" I say.

"Sarrow's been busy while you've been off playing soldier," Brick reprimands. "Go out there and help her. You'll feel better." Before I can reply he fades into the wall.

Feeling like a heel, I come out of my room. Going to the front of the house I see that Sarrow, during my army exploits, has converted it into a professional looking office area with sofas and tables. Beyond that by the front door is a vacant desk with a large folder of paper with an arrow on it pointing further in. On the right side are three small rooms, each with a desk and gold colored name plates on the doors. The first one reads 'Whisper of Clan Shifter' and 'Brick: Investigator Extraordinaire. The next one is simple, it reads 'Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth' then beneath these letters 'Sarrow'. The last one is mine. It says 'Jerry Price' and below that in large font is 'SHIFTER.'

Walking past the offices I am amazed by what Sarrow has accomplished in just two weeks. I see Whisper at his desk, slowly typing away using a single claw while Brick is overhead directing his movements. Brick flashes me a very white smile and an exaggerated wink. Whisper is too busy to notice me. In the next office Sarrow is animatedly talking with someone on the phone, her feet resting on her desk. Seeing me there she gets off the phone and rushes out to me.

"Brother! Are you well? Perhaps you should rest some more. I'll bring you lunch. You haven't slept much lately," Sarrow says, giving me a critical look.

"How did you do all this?" I ask, stunned.

"I used the extra funds that James of house Clifford gave us for everything. It has been difficult understanding this world but both Whisper and Brick assure me I did it right," Sarrow says proudly.

"I'm sorry. I said I would teach you," I state, feeling worse.

"Do not concern yourself, brother," Sarrow says dismissively. "Your grief is as great as the ocean. You need time to travel across it."

"I think I've had enough," I say. "Brick told me I had a package."

"Yes, it's in your office," Sarrow says, pausing as her phone rings. Rushing off she dives into her chair, sending it twirling. She picks up the phone after the second rotation, her feet on the desk once more. I smile.

Going into my office I am amazed by the care Sarrow took with it. The desk is simple pressboard but has a rather nice black finish on it with everything neatly arranged on top. I can't find one thing I want to reorganize. On the wall behind the desk hangs Worldkey, the silvery blade glinting in the light. I have two filing cabinets in the corner, one has the shadow wood pendant atop it, the other holds Sarah's urn. For a long moment I look at it, remembering when James gave it to me containing half of the ashes. He kept the other half. Back then it was too painful to look at. Now I pick it up, reading the gold pressed label. 'Sarah Clifford of Clan Shifter. She was a roaring fire in a dark world.'

"God, I miss you," I say to the empty room.

Putting the urn back, I sit down in a nice, black leather chair. I recline a bit, studying the large brown package on my desk. It is labeled 'Jerry Price Shifters Inc from James Clifford US Army.' Opening it I stare at the contents, tears stinging my eyes. Inside is a large coffee cup that had the words, 'Take my coffee and die' on it. Stains around the edges show it has received great use. Next to it is a driver's license with my picture on it. At the bottom of the box is a folded note over a large framed picture of Sarah and me.

Looking at the picture I feel my heart skip a beat. It's from my birthday. Sarah was behind me, hugging my scrawny shoulders while Whisper was perched on my right shoulder. All around us the young ferrets of the Bartendor clan are climbing on me, jostling each other to see who could reach the top of my head first. I brace myself for the pain the picture would bring. Strangely, it doesn't come. Instead I feel a moment of warmness like Sarah is right here with me, remembering that spectacular night. Setting the photo down facing me on the desk along with the coffee cup, I read the note.

'Jerry,

Hope you got some well-deserved rest. I found these things in Sarah's house. I think she was waiting until you got out of the hospital to give them to you. I only recently found it when I was cleaning this weekend. I have a job for you. We want to hire Shifters Inc. to help place landmines in the crossing zone on the other side but command thinks it's too risky. They are not sure if we could get home. Call me as soon as you can about this job.

General James Clifford US Army Special Division ICE

Setting down the letter I am about to ask Sarrow where my cell phone is when the desk phone rings. Hesitantly I pick up the receiver.

"Jerry," I say, then a moment later add, "Shifters Inc."

"Oh, thank god!" Comes a hysterical voice on the line. "I didn't know where else to call. The police say they can't do anything. I think I'm going mad."

"Calm down and tell me what happened," I say, grabbing a conveniently located pad of paper and a pen.

"I can't be certain but I think the wall just ate my neighbor..."

THE END

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won't you please taek a moment to leave me a moment to leave me a review at yoru favorite retailer?

Thanks!

John Sharp

### Lilith Torrawind Saga

Book I

### Quest of the Hellborne

### Prologue

### On deck of the skyship Oneshot

Absolute darkness enclosed the skyship Oneshot as Captain Towerin strode about the deck uneasily, his footsteps echoing loudly on the wooden planks. All around the nothingness mocked him with a situation that a day ago, he would have declared impossible. They were stuck in the void as if it had real substance, not unlike a spec in a jar of ink. Now, there was nowhere they could go, and not even the light of a single star to guide them. Leaving the helm unattended Towerin descended the raised deck, walking down to the center of the ship. Over and over the impossibility of the situation forced its way into his mind asking... no, demanding an answer to which he had no reply. How can this be happening?

In his thirty years of captaining his ship he'd never seen anything like it, and he had seen a lot. Nearly as old as his ship, he had a short cropped, gray beard that perfectly matched the gnarled hair sticking out from beneath his cap. The beginning stages of a round belly strained against his gray frock coat, as if threatening to spill onto the deck. He was a patchwork of scars from a lifetime of fighting pirates and the other hazards of sailing the sea and sky. His ship too bore the marks of a hard existence, and most days Towerin felt like he and the ship were one. His scars represented the aging hull and the numerous gouges marring the wood. His steadily worsening arthritis was the creaking of the sails' rigging as it strained to do its job, and the inexhaustible beating of his own heart was the marvelous engine allowing his ship to fly. Yes, he was one with his ship. That made this failure to his crew deeply personal.

"Any idea what's going on?" First mate Darwin said in a soft voice, striding up next to him. He was a good lad. Quite young to reach such a position, but he'd earned it many times over with his loyalty and quick wits. Tall and lean, he had the smooth flawless features typical for one of his kind, framed by silvery hair that shone from the torchlight around them. Turning to face him, Towerin was always amazed by his deep, sea-green eyes that stood out in stark contrast to his golden skin and flowing white robes. He could almost pass for human if it wasn't for his residual wings. Feathery white, they were too small to grant true flight but were magnificent nonetheless. To be expected, since his father was an angel.

"No. Did the engine break down?" Captain Towerin said knowing full well the ship would be dead if that was the case. Still, the need to ask was there and the desire to do something, even if it was pointless. Looking up Towerin saw the celestial sails spreading out like wings on a moth from the central pole shaft. They had an unearthly soft blue glow, pulsing with energy powering the ship in the void between Heaven and Hell. Again, the glowing sail indicated all was well, even though it plainly wasn't.

"I checked like you asked. It's running fine," Darwin said, looking just as perplexed as Captain Towerin felt.

"I don't understand. I've never heard of anyone getting stuck before," Towerin said shaking his head. Suddenly the entire ship rocked, sending all those on deck stumbling. One unfortunate soul was looking over the railing and the lurch sent him over the edge. Towerin could hear his screams as he plummeted into the abyss.

"What the damnation?" A man shouted. Running to the edge of the ship, Captain Towerin gripped the railing in horror as dark shapes swarmed the hull. Nearly invisible in the surrounding void, Towerin could just make them out as they skittered across his ship.

"TO ARMS!" Darwin cried, having joined Towerin at the side of the ship. Leaping backwards he pulled Towerin out of the way as the first creatures boarded the deck. A twisted combination of beetle and man, it was black like the surrounding void with a shiny exoskeleton that creaked and revealed moist red joints as it moved. Its four long, arm-like appendages reached the wooden deck and its stout claws left long scratches in the plank. Its carapace was mottled and as thick as armor, with a distinctive split down the back for insect like wings that Towerin clearly saw as it moved around uncertainly on two stubby legs ending in wide, spade-like feet. The worst part was its face. Eyeless with two small, gnawing mouths where a normal creature's eyes would be. It had no lips, just sharp teeth that reached toward them before contracting inwards. Two long, segmented antennas, at least a meter long, stuck out of the top of its head and danced around like a dousing rod. An immense set of pincers dominated its head with small, human-like fingers nestled between them, leading to a third, larger mouth.

Towerin felt his legs go watery, but he was the Captain damn it, and he had a duty to his ship and crew. Pulling his Heaven-forged revolver from under his long overcoat, he took careful aim. The single shot pistol made Towerin feel in control again, and he squeezed the trigger. There was a flash of blue, as the blessed round left the barrel and slammed into the creature. It had time for a high pitch wail of pain before it was briefly engulfed in bright blue flames. It fell lifeless to the deck, reduced to a smoldering cinder like an exhausted log in a campfire. His elation lasted only a moment before the rest arrived.

Swarming over the side of the ship like locus in a crop field, they were suddenly everywhere, literally tearing his crew apart, stuffing bits of them into all three of their mouths. Snarling Towerin drew his sword from its protective scabbard. Forged of Orichalcum and stardust, the blade shone with blue angelic magic from all the heavenrunes imprinted on the blade. With a roar Towerin charged into battle, Darwin just behind him with his rapier in hand. A battle haze took over Towerin as he hacked and slashed the damn bugs that would dare to threaten his ship, moving with sureness from a lifetime of fighting. Green ichor flew about like raindrops, as the bugs fell one by one before him. Steadily his sword's glow grew fainter, as its reserve of power dwindling with each blow. He would have to ask Darwin to recharge it later, or pay the exorbitant fee to have another do it.

Slashing through two arms of the nearest bug with little resistance, Towerin spun deftly around for the killing blow, only to have his blade ricochet off the creature's carapace. Gasping in shock, Towerin looked down only now realizing his blade was dark, the holy power of the heavenrunes empty. With a viscous backhand, the bug cracked Towerin across the face, sending him sprawling and bloody to the deck. Stars appeared before his eyes and pain burned in his face as the creature loomed over him, its mandibles wide. A flash of red and the bug stumbled backwards, howling in pain right before it was engulfed in intense hellfire flames. A moment later it exploded into a shower of bits and pieces.

Getting to his knees Towerin spat blood onto a sizzling piece of the bug that landed nearby, looking around at the rest of his crew as they poured onto the deck, armed to the teeth. Nearest was his Security Chief, Ervin. Tall and strong, he had a long lock of blonde hair tied in braids behind his back and the chiseled face of a man who knew how to fight dirty. Wearing a bright white overcoat with large dark buttons done up all the way down to his knee high black laced boots, he flashed Towerin a cocky smile. Carrying enough weaponry for two men, he had a sheathed saber on his back and a pistol in each hand. Crisscrossing over his chest were two bandoliers of bullets, each round as big as a shot glass. In one set, the bullet tips were glowing a brilliant blue, and the others burned a dark crimson. The pistols were polar opposites, one forged in Heaven the other in Hell. Towerin had scoffed at him for using weapons from both above and below; told him to keep it simple and choose one or the other. But his son never did listen to him.

Firing the left gun Towerin saw a flash of blue and an accompanying shriek as a bug fell victim to blue flames. With a practiced twirl, he spun both pistols in unison ejecting the empty rounds and neatly tucking them under his arms. Quickly loading each with its corresponding ammo his eyes roamed the fight, taking in everything with a gunfighters ease. Another twirl and he was taking aim at the next bug which almost eviscerated Darwin as he fought off three of its brethren.

To his right Towerin saw his recently purchased security golem heading toward him casually crushing any of the creatures that got in his way. He only bought it last week at Darwin's insistence. With the increased pirate raids, it could make all the difference, he had argued. At first Towerin scowled saying that he could fight off some filthy pirates with his own crew. It wasn't until Darwin pointed out it was on sale, thanks to the owner moving to Hell, that Towerin reluctantly agreed. Now he was certainly glad he had. Towering over everything the ten foot golem made of Orichalcum and refined Talerite strode through the battle, ignoring the claws scrapping its reddish black, stony shell. Hands larger than Towerin's head lashed out with impressive speed, crushing the carapace of any bug foolish enough to get too close. Reaching Towerin, it extended a hand covered in green ichor. Ignoring the offered hand, Towerin got to his feet surveying the fight. The battle was still raging as an endless supply of bugs crawled onto the deck from all sides.

"Master, the situation is perilous. I recommend you go below deck for your own safety," the golem said in a flat, dead voice.

"Forget it, you pile of gizzard stones. Get out there and protect my ship and crew!" Captain Towerin barked at the golem.

"Yes, master," the golem said. Turning, it charged into battle, shattering carapaces with every blow.

"Hey boss, take this," Ervin said reaching Towerin's side and tossing him his sword before reloading his pistols again. Snatching the blade from mid-air, Towerin was dismayed to see half of Ervin's rounds already gone.

"Told you to call me father," Towerin said.

"Sure thing, boss," Ervin said, giving him a rebellious smile. The boy would make a fine captain one day if he didn't get himself killed. Ignoring his son, Towerin dashed back into the fray, hacking and slashing as he went.

After what seemed like several days, Towerin sat down on the deck next to Ervin and Darwin. Breathing heavily they watched as the security golem crushed the last bug.

"Told you..." Darwin said gasping, his wings hanging limp. "...it was a good idea to buy that golem." Too tired to respond Towerin simply nodded as the golem planted its foot into the thorax of the final bug. A loud crunch along with a splattering of green and it was over.

"What I want to know is where did all the pissed roaches come from?" Ervin said panting, both of his bandoliers empty.

"It doesn't matter," Towerin said, struggling to his feet. "We have to get out of here before..." He never got to finish, as a massive dark shape rose before the ship's bow. It could not be seen; it was so black that it perfectly matched the void, but it could be felt. An evil so overwhelming that everyone still standing collapsed to their knees, shivering in pure terror. Even the golem, which had no emotions, trembled before this awesome presence. Before Towerin could offer a prayer to any who would listen, a pure white eye half the size of his ship opened right ahead of them. It could see into the very depths of their being, it could see everything.

"My god..." Darwin said. Towerin thought that summed it up nicely.

### Chapter 1

### Port city of Ingleport

1

He was closing in on her. Desperate, Lilith Torrawind put on a final burst of speed, all that her depleted stamina would allow. She had been through too much today to go any faster. As her long mane of snow white hair flowed out behind her like a wintery veil she zigzagged around obstacles, hoping to trip up her pursuer. A glance told her that instead of leaving him behind he was catching up, his crimson skin sweaty from the exertion. He was fearsome, with two jutting incisors protruding from his lips and curving outward, nearly reaching the level of his nose. His eyes had deep red irises, not uncommon for the hellborne, that seemed to mock her. Returning her gaze forward, Lilith's deep, yellow eyes widened as her foot snagged on a child's rocking toy. Going down, she broke her fall by rolling onto her back just as the figure leapt on her. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braced herself.

"TAG, YOU'RE IT!" The hellborne said before laughing and taking off at a run. Lilith sighed. She hated being it. Getting to her feet Lilith surveyed her surroundings. Not much had changed since her time here. The Hellway orphanage was still dingy by anyone's standards, with aging toys and playground equipment rusting over from a decade of neglect. Lilith knew full well what this placed lacked, fortunately love and care wasn't it.

"All right, you guys win," Lilith said, brushing off her baggy gray jumpsuit.

Various cries of disappointment came from all around, as the children left their designated 'safe spots' and surrounded her. They were a rag-tag bunch, all with various signs of their demonic parentage. Timmy, the boy who just tagged her, was the tallest of the group, just a hair shy of her own six foot height. He showed the most signs of his origins with his deep crimson skin, red eyes, and two long horns sticking out of a tuff of black hair on his head. Not to mention his long incisors and prodigious size, despite being only ten. He could almost be taken for a pure demon, if he wasn't lacking the signature tail. One of his parents was likely a greater demon, but no one would ever know, he was abandoned here just like she was all those years ago. Lilith on the other hand, had virtually none of the characteristics of the hellborne. Slender and pale, she had long, silky white hair and yellow eyes, not unlike a brilliant daffodil. At first they had thought she was a mistake, leaving a child at an orphanage meant for half demons but her two tiny black horns just visible in her hair was all the confirmation anyone needed. She also had the strength and speed of the demonic, more so than anyone she'd ever met, with nearly an inexhaustible supply of stamina. Except apparently when it comes to running around all morning playing with children. The endless energy of youth was universal, no matter whom your parents were.

"One more time!" A small child cried, hugging her leg. She had light red skin and two horns sticking out of long auburn hair. Patting her head right between the horns Lilith smiled down at her.

"Not today, little one," Lilith said. "I have lots of work today at the docks." With cries of farewell she left them behind to play. Going inside to talk with the matron, she entered a worn red brick building that effectively silenced the noise of the children at play. Walking through rooms that could use a thorough cleaning, she proceeded to the main hall where an old hellborne sat in a rocker. Over a hundred years old, the half demon had the look of a middle aged woman minus her hell given attributes. Homely, she had on a patched blue dress that went well with her pink skin, but clashed with her dark red eyes. Like all hellborne she had two horns just three inches long on either side of her skull, the shortest Lilith had ever seen except her own. Giving a friendly wave, the woman beckoned her over.

"Have fun with the little ones?" The woman said, embracing Lilith in a hug so tight it could crush a human's ribs. Lilith simply returned the strong embrace with one of her own. Releasing each other, they made a slow walk toward the front doors.

"Hardly," Lilith scoffed. "The little hell spawns ran me to exhaustion."

Chuckling the woman nodded. "They do that," then added thoughtfully, "All children do, not just those with a parent from Hell."

"True enough," Lilith said, also chuckling. Reaching into one of her many pockets she withdrew several silver coins, shoving them into the woman's hand.

"Oh no, Lilith I can't-" She began.

"Yes, you can, Marith," Lilith said sternly. "You raised me and all these precious ones with a budget barely big enough to feed and clothe them. It's the least I can do. Besides I'm working a double shift the next few days with the festival of peace starting soon. Skyships will be arriving from both Heaven and Hell, we'll be swamped."

"You're still working the docks then?" Marith said surprised, reluctantly taking the coins. "Then your magic hasn't blossomed?"

"No," Lilith said sadly. "I don't think it ever will."

Marith nodded sadly. "That seems to be the case. What a shame. Though it isn't surprising, since your father was probably a half demon."

"We don't know that for sure," Lilith said. "Most hellborne are infertile. I never heard of one able to bare children from either sex."

"Yes, it would be rare," Marith agreed. "But with your faint hellish characteristics it's the best explanation. I still remember the day your mother showed up; ready to burst at the seams. Never had I seen a woman undergo such a trial. She was nearly incoherent during the entire labor, only managing to name you before she died."

Feeling uncomfortable, Lilith changed the subject. "Any of the young children showing signs of blossoming magic yet?" All pure demons have demonic magic from birth, with the hellborne developing the talent during adolescence. Only a miniscule number of the hellborne had no magic. Everyone agrees if no magical talent shows itself by the time a child turns twenty, then it never will. Having just turned twenty, Lilith was hoping to be a late bloomer, but now she had to face facts, she was a null.

"A few," Marith said. "Vanir is working with them in the craft shop if you want to swing by."

Lilith paused a moment, thinking. "Sure, I have some time before my shift starts." Detouring away from the front doors they walked down a brittle looking hallway with floorboards discolored from age, creaking with each step. Turning left, they entered a large classroom where a dozen older children were working with Orichalcum infused with the Hell based metal, Talerite. Small pieces of the alloy were arranged on a long bench, each with a single hellrune carved on its surface. Holding the small metal pieces in their hands, the children closed their eyes, concentrating. A moment later, the hellrune began to glow a faint red as it absorbed their magic. Stepping forward Lilith went to the far end of the bench, picking up a piece of Orichalcum that had so much Talerite in it that it was almost black. The more Talerite in the alloy the easier it was to magically charge it, but also the weaker the power held within. Most agree that one in four of Talerite to Orichalcum was the best combination. Less Talerite and few Demon or Hellborne could even charge it magically, but it would have vast stores of power. Lilith had heard of a demon who could charge items as low as one in seven. The fee he was charging for such services was astounding. More than Lilith made in a year.

Looking at the metal Lilith closed her eyes, willing the hellrune carved on its surface to illuminate; the simplest of magic in the easiest of materials. Nothing happened. Sighing she sat it back down on the bench. Quickly a small hand shot out, scooping up the metal and a second later the hellrune was glowing fiercely. Lilith smiled down at the small hellborne girl who powered the metal, showing none of the disappointment she felt inside. If only she could have strong magical talent, then she could help the orphanage so much more. Stepping away from the bench she walked out with Marith, heading to the front door once more.

"Have any from the demon's mage guild come by yet?" Lilith asked. They sought only the most talented of magic users to join their elite ranks. Strong magic users demanded a high price, spending most of their time charging weapons and armor.

"Yes, they were looking at Timmy," Marith said.

"Timmy!" Lilith exclaimed.

"He didn't tell you?" Marith said. "He was able to charge a one in five yesterday. Tired him out a lot, but he managed it."

"A one in five..." Lilith said amazed. What she wouldn't give to have talent like that.

"I guess he didn't want to upset you," Marith said.

"Yeah," Lilith said, defeated. "I guess I'll just have to get used to being a null."

"You could try working security for a skyship," Marith offered.

"I might have too, I don't want to work the docks forever," Lilith said, stopping by the front door.

"Whatever you do child, you always have a home here," Marith said, briefly embracing Lilith again. "Just try to come by more often," she added, releasing her.

"I will," Lilith promised and exited her childhood home.

It was a warm summer afternoon and a gust of fresh salty sea air drove the last lingering concerns about her lack of magical ability from Lilith's mind. Swinging around to the side of the Hellway Orphanage, she waved goodbye to the children. They were now running from Timmy, who was somehow it again, as he chased them around the confined yard. They all stopped their game to wave back, shouting for her to come back and play with them soon. Promising she would, Lilith went off to work.

The busy streets of Ingleport were a familiar and comforting sight. Walking down cobbled streets Lilith stood out of the way as horse drawn carriages and the occasional golem driven carriages the wealthier merchants employed clattered by. Some argued that golems soon would have all the jobs, but Lilith doubted that very much. While strong and utterly obedient, they couldn't deal with complex situations. Golems only lasted two to three years before their power supply was exhausted. Less if the golem worked constantly. The cost to restore a golem was astronomical. Most employers did have one or two to do heavy work, but they were inactive most of the time. The only area that used them often was mercenary forces, which would rent them out for exorbitant fees. They were a status symbol, nothing more.

Soon the familiar dock came into view as she crested a large hill. Buildings constructed with crude but serviceable red bricks lined the water front, for all the businesses that operated on the wharf. Past the buildings was a great view of the ocean and the moored ships. There were over a dozen vessels currently stationed there with tiny figures disembarking or loading up various goods. With Ingleport being one of the major trading posts between Heaven and Hell, the docks always had a few ships in. Now, with the festival of peace a short time away, it would swell to the hundreds. Michael, the dock master, would want her working double shifts thanks to all the increased business. He affectionately called her his cheap little golem and would want her there until the mess was over. Preparing herself for a long few days, Lilith started down the hill.

2

"Come on, ye lads! Put y'er backs into it!" Michael's hoarse voice lashed out like a whip at the five strong men trying to lift an immense crate out of the ship's cargo hold. Straining and red faced, the men all looked like they were struggling with a week-long constipation issue. Feeling sorry for them Lilith dashed over, grabbing a free corner and lifting the entire crate over her head as the exhausted men collapsed gratefully. Starting up the cargo hold steps she heard Michael's bemused berating of the men.

"Lads, what's wrong with ye? Lettin' a sweet lass like Lilith do all the hard work."

"She's as strong as a golem, boss," one man complained, slumping in exhaustion onto the cargo hold floor. His jumpsuit was plastered to him with sweat as he panted heavily. Reaching the ship deck Lilith turned, showing no strain from her heavy burden.

"You boys just need some quality protein in your diet," Lilith said mockingly.

"I got some protein for ye," one of the men said gripping his trousers in the middle.

"I said QUALITY," Lilith said emphasizing the last word. "What you got down there wouldn't nourish a rat." Laughter at the man's expense rang out as they wearily got to their feet.

"Thanks, lass. I thought they might all get d'emselves hernias and want time off," Michael said in a low voice as she passed by. He was a tough old sea dog with a limp and permanent body odor of the sea. Gray beard and growing round in the middle, he had a friendly face that grew very red when he drank, which was often.

"No problem, boss," Lilith said as she descended the plank. Everyone got out of her way as she made her way to the horse drawn cart, setting the crate down gently next to the others. The cart creaked and for a moment she thought it would collapse under the additional weight. The horse attached to the cart gave her a mournful look as the driver cracked the whip and they started off. Turning back to the ship she saw the last of its cargo leave the hold. Another down, that was ten already this morning.

"Lilith, go help out on twelve!" Michael shouted above all the noise. "Watch out, they're from below!"

Below? Lilith wondered. Nearing the ship the meaning became clear. A skyship from Hell. Skyships didn't only fly to heaven they also could traverse the path to Hell. Powered by huge heaven made diatomaceous crystals, the marvelous ships could take the path to either above or below. The journey was perilous, with pirates roaming near the gateways and then there was the paths themselves.

Making her way through the crowd, Lilith stopped a moment, marveling at the skyship. This one wasn't made on this world; it was clearly a Hell ship. Dark red, it had long chains hanging on the bow and along the sail posts that clattered ominously in the wind. Aboard hellfire braziers burned with a black red intensity that drew your gaze in if you looked too closely. Those wandering aboard did their best to ignore the skulls and human bones decorating the banisters. Lilith snorted. Most of it was for show. Boarding the ship she heard two of her fellow dock workers conversing as they selected various crates from the ship's hold.

"After the festival I think I'll spend a week in Hell," one man said hefting a decent size crate.

"Why not Heaven?" The other man asked, choosing a much smaller crate. Walking together they passed Lilith as she began searching for the biggest and heaviest cargo.

"Oh sure, Heaven has a great view and the food is divine, but Hell has strippers and better ale," the first man countered, heading out of earshot. Lilith was looking over an extremely large crate deciding where best to lift, when a deep raspy voice sounded from above her.

"Oh, little flower, you don't want that one," the voice said. "Choose something more fitting to your delicate feminine body."

Craning her head up Lilith saw the source of the voice. It was a demon. This was not some hellborne, but pure Hellspawn. A bright, angry red all over it had long, curled ram's horns sticking out of a hairless scalp that looked like it could burst into flame if the wind was right. Wearing a tight-fitting, black armor that ended at the knees and elbows, the demon had biceps bigger than Lilith's head that he was clearly flexing for her benefit. Leering down at her with bright red eyes and large incisors growing up to its check bones, the demon looked her up and down in a way she was all too familiar with. A fork tongue darted out in her direction appearing to taste the air around her. From the way it's tail swished behind it, a single tuff of black hair on a thick red cord, it liked what it smelled.

"I had to bring it down there myself. A crate of Orichalcum, far too heavy for a little thing like you," the demon said. "Go fetch one of your golems, then you can sit on my lap and tell me your name. I'll start so you don't feel intimated. I'm Darthnos captain of this ship, Hellseige." Not acknowledging the demon, Lilith lifted the crate over her head, giving a satisfied smirk at the demon's look of shock as she started up the stairs.

"Golems?" She snorted. "I don't need no golems to do my heavy lifting." Turning her back on the demon she headed down the ramp where another group of horse drawn carriages awaited.

3

It was a long day. A vast majority of her time was spent on the rather large Hell ship that had lots of raw materials to unload, most of it too heavy for anyone else. The demon had not stopped pestering her all dayand she had to fight off the urge to deck him in the balls. She was lifting the final crate when she heard him give an angry hiss. Surprised she looked up to see the demon glaring intently at a set of sails she could see from the hold. Her stomach dropped and a feeling of doom settled over her. The sails visible from the cargo depression she was in were a beautiful blue with ornate gold trim. They rippled in the breeze like a field of wheat in a strong wind. A ship from Heaven. Some idiot up there directed a Heaven ship to dock next to a Hell ship. What was wrong with them! Great pains were always take to keep the factions as far apart as possible. Now here they were side by side. Setting the crate back down, Lilith rushed up hoping it was not too late.

Running to the ship's bow she made a sound like an angry cat. The angels must have flown ahead of their ship, for they were already standing toe to toe with the demons, neither side backing down. From their angry posturing a brawl looked inevitable. The demons wouldn't care one bit about the fact that they were outnumbered four to seven. Towering over their small counterparts, the demon's tails swished angrily as they tried to stare down the smaller beings. A hopeless venture, while not as physically imposing as the demons, the angels were no less intimidating with a palpable aura of power surrounding them like a haze. They stood wingtip to wingtip like an immovable wall before an unstoppable force, and it would be the mortals of this world that would pay. Around them a crowd was gathering, all watching in fascination at the two opposing forces faced off, instead of doing the intelligent thing and running for the hills.

Leaping on the railing Lilith desperately signaled Michael waving her arms frantically. Glancing in her direction he rightly paled and began barking orders. Performing a record breaking long jump, Lilith leapt from the ship, landing near the two groups as angry words were exchanged. Getting between them, Lilith got her first close look at an angel. Being one of the hellborne she tried to avoid them as much as possible, despite over a century of relative peace. They were shorter than the demons but wider of shoulder and looked just as strong as any from Hell. They each had full size wings branching from their shoulders with pristine white feathers, possessing a faintly majestic radiance of unknown power. Standing out in contrast to their silver hair they had deep gold skin and bright, glowing green eyes. Wearing white cloaks, Lilith could see their majestic armor peaking though, with sheathed angelic blades at their waists. Most disturbingly, each one had a faint halo of golden light above their heads that one could see if you tilt your head just right.

"Stop it!" Lilith yelled at no group in particular. "All of you back to your ships. I'm speaking on behalf of the port authority."

"You presume to order us around human?" One angel said, then looking closer at her sneered in contempt. "You're not even human just a filthy hellborne. Daughter of a human whore and a pathetic demon take your orders and..."

He never got a chance to finish. Surprisingly, Darthnos the demon who been annoying her all day, rose up to his full height and kicked the angel who had just insulted her in the balls. Howling in pain he clutched his privates and dropped to his knees, proving whether angel, demon, or man, no one likes to get kicked in the family jewels.

With a corresponding cry of rage, a female angel who was breathtaking in her beauty twirled, slapping a wing at the nearest demon and sending him flying through the air. Bereft of wings he landed hard a short distance away. People finally came to their senses, scattering like mice. Screams, shouts, and curses erupted as both sides crashed into each other. Distantly Lilith heard the distinctive clomping of heavy feet that meant golems. She only hoped they would get here in time.

Using their superior numbers the angels quickly pinned the demons down, delivering powerful blows as if they were trying to tenderize meat with their bare hands. Feeling the situation spiraling out of control, Lilith saw the true danger as the angel who been kicked between the legs got up with a knife held in one hand, the blade glowing ominously with blue heavenrunes. Darthnos was left facing him, unarmed but also unconcerned, beckoning the angel on. Snarling the angel leapt forward, slashing the air before him. Lilith expected to see crimson staining the cobbled road, but moving with cat-like reflexes Darthnos caught the angel's wrist in one hand, punching the knife wielding arm with the other. Dropping the weapon the angel moved in close, overpowering the larger demon and driving him to his kneeswith his hands around his neck. Rushing forward, Lilith stopped before the struggling pair and punched the angel hard.

Lilith always knew she was strong. As a child she was always careful not to hurt anyone, holding herself back even then. And at the docks she was always careful never to fully unleash her strength, afraid she might break something. To her the world was made of fragile glass requiring tight control from her. She had simply assumed that an angel or demon was similarly strong.

With an explosion of white feathers the angel flew backwards nearly a ship's length, tumbling on the ground for several more cart lengths before coming to a rest. Everyone froze; demon and angel alike, utterly shocked at the display of raw strength she'd just displayed. Lilith looked at the angel, past all the feathers swaying to earth between them, as he lay there unmoving.

"Damn, girl," Darthnos said coughing and getting to his knees. "Just how strong are you?"

### Shifter

Book II

### The Corruption Within

### Chapter 1 – Mad Again...

The dreams have been constant, tainting my nights with images so disturbing that I'm afraid to sleep. They blend into my waking hours, making everything feel like an old grainy film. It's as if I am reading a book and forget every word right after I read it. Sounds are muffled, like my ears are jammed full of cotton. Tastes and smells are a mere memory. Hell, even my sense of touch is dulled, like I have thick gloves stitched to my skin.

It's funny. Now, after Melephos' defeat, no one thinks I am crazy anymore... except for me. I want to blame my shadow. This started happening right after our joining to defeat Solarkar. But I know it isn't true. Something got inside me then, some dark, foreign entity slithering like a parasitic worm in my brain. _Could this be the work of Shalarom_?

I was told that attracting the attention of the corruptor was never without peril. _Is he sucking my soul out through some cosmic straw that I can't see?_ I can picture an ominous tube sticking out of my head, twisting and performing loops in the middle, not because it needs too, but simply because it could. Shalarom, the embodiment of corruption and chaos, would have it no other way. Finally, after long unnecessary detours, the straw would end at a relaxing figure sitting upon a throne of bone sucking thoughtfully on the other end, lips pursed tightly together, his cheeks puckered. Of course I had no idea what Shalarom really looks like, but that statue I had seen, the tall distinguished gentlemen, haunts my dreams. My world never felt so unstable. So when I see the monstrosity charging at me I only stare, wondering if it is real or not.

To call it a monster or beast did not do the creature justice. Like many of the creations of Melephos, it's all hunger and built to match. Big as a tank, the creature has at least fifty reptilian arms protruding from its back, each with a small mouth imbedded in its palms and brightly colored fingernails straight out of a salon magazine. Its hide is tree frog green, with a face that is nearly indistinguishable from its rear. Eyeless, it has dozens of small holes all over the front that are constantly expanding to the size of a walnut before shrinking to a pin hole with each breath. Most striking is a tunnel-like opening in the front that can easily swallow a dog whole. Teeth half the size of my foot line the entire expanse, gradually shrinking as the way narrows further in. Even more disturbing is the way they turn slowly in a perimeter with the next set of teeth turning the opposite direction, and so on all the way back, like some kind of organic meat grinder. Looking into its depths, I feel mesmerized at the way it moves ending at a football size beak that snaps open and closed with loud clacks. The stench of the creature makes my eyes water as a gust of wind slaps it across my face, a sickly blend of rotting meat, and strangely enough, a tang of citrus.

A strange fascination holds me in place as it charges with a lumbering trot reminiscent of a drunken rhino. Perhaps if I had slept in the last three days I could discern if this is real or not, but with my new feeling of unreality and extreme sleep deprivation, I can't even move. Not even the gunfire around me breaks the spell. The creature shrugs off the bullets like stinging rain. Perhaps this is nothing more than another lucid dream.

Suddenly Whisper is there, appearing as a large white blur he plowes into the creature, toppling it over. Whisper, nearly twice as big, tears open the creature's soft underside with a single swipe, spilling guts that spread out over the hot sands. The rank odor of bowels and worse hits me, effectively killing that tang of citrus I smelled earlier as Whisper stands atop his kill, his white fur glistening. Swinging his head right, Whisper gives a low growl, which would sound cute if he was just a normal sized ferret, but is rather alarming now. Following his gaze, I see a dozen more of the creatures rushing us, giving shrill cries that echo in the vast emptiness around us.

I try to remember why I am here. I vaguely recall a job from James Clifford involving traveling to Sheol, the world of Melephos, to plant landmines at the entrance in the crossing zone. _Is that today? Is it happening now?_

My head throbs from my lack of sleep and the glare of the rising sun. I could feel a thick sheen of sweat plastering my hair to my forehead and it's not from the heat. Wiping my palms on my jeans I grip World Key which is slung over my black trench coat. Instantly I feel better, like a fresh breeze blew away century old foul air. Pulling the sword free I marvel at the blade, which perhaps is the finest creation in the five worlds. Silvery bright, it has a thick line of blue energy imbued in the metal running from the deceptively plain hilt along the edge all the way back down to the other side. Never showing a sign of abuse or even a slight scuffing, it's like the sword existes outside of space and time.

Feeling myself for the first time all day I heft the blade up, looking at my reflection in its surface which is clearer than any mirror. Deathly pale, I have dark bags under my eyes that could hold several pounds, punctuated by my lank, copper hair. I look a mess, which is fitting since that is how I'm feeling. The only part of me that is vibrant are my green cat-like eyes that I inherited from the Kiraten. Sighing, I am about to lower the blade when I see it, a flicker in my eyes. Squinting at my reflection I see it again, a drop of black in the corner of my eyes, polluting the white like viscous ink in a cup of water. Instead of diluting it spreads out, dimming my vision like a sudden storm cloud, reducing my eyes two black opals darker than the deepest reaches of space. This isn't mere darkness, this is corruption itself, the power of Shalarom. I shudder as a wicked grin appears in the center of both my eyes. It is the smile of pure evil. Lowering the blade I squeeze my eyes shut.

It isn't real

It isn't real

It isn't real

_IT ISN'T REAL!!!_ I chant in my head. It is just from my sleep deprivation, that's all. There is nothing to be afraid of.

"Brother, be alert! Our foes near!" Sarrow says in a strong voice, clasping me on the shoulder.

Opening my eyes I turn to her. Standing unafraid of the gunfire or the charging monstrosities she looks out of place in the barren environment, even more than I do. Appearing no more than twelve, she has the Kiraten green hair and long pointy ears. Her skin has a slight blue hue that highlights her eyes, similar to mine but of the deepest purple. Dressed for war or a rock concert, she wears a black hoodie, plain blue jeans and holds a Kiraten sword professionally at her side. Despite her young appearance, she is actually over thirty years old, having spent most of her life at a prison I had rescued her from. In these last few months she has quickly grown accustomed to life on Earth or Fomoria as the other worlds call it. Her knowledge of the worlds is invaluable, not to mention her shifting prowess. In many ways she and Whisper are the entire world to me and their presence gives me the strength I need. Taking a deep breath I focus, ready to work.

Around us men trembling in stark terror dig like insane dogs, placing round disks the size of trash can lids into the earth. When the proposal was made to Shifter Inc., I initially declined. I told them that metal did not survive shifting at all. I had experienced that in the past. It wasn't until that Sarrow pointed out that we could cross where the worlds had merged, that I accepted. That blending of realities might not have the same effect as forcing our way through. As always she had been right, so now here we are placing rather large explosives just under the sandy surface. We've been at it for nearly twenty hours already without out any issues. Sheol, is devoid of much life, Melephos consuming even as he creates. That is fortunate, otherwise I doubt we would have lasted this long. The landscape resembles a slightly more habitable version of Mars with gray unfeeling sand stretching endlessly in all directions with an oppressive reddish sun blazing hotly overhead. Dry air leeches the moisture from every part of my being and strong gusts of wind blow sand everywhere.

At first I thought we wouldn't have to do anything, other than provide an emergency trip home. Of course, it couldn't be that easy. As luck would have it a large herd of these creatures passed by several hours ago and have been hounding us ever since. Some well placed grenades made them flee, but they kept returning and in greater numbers. Now, with large amounts of our ammunition spent, I doubt that even the land mines would deter the creatures of Melephos. Looking at the charging creatures I wonder if anything would.

Stepping forward with Whisper on my right and Sarrow on my left we face the creatures as they draw near. Before I can do anything my shadow finally decides to help. Taking on the form of a dark silhouette in front of us he expands, growing bigger and bigger until he towers over the charging creatures. They all stop, backpedaling several steps. It does them no good. Like a black tidal wave, my shadow falls upon them, submerging three of them in his darkness. The many arms stretch out of a massive pool of ink covered in a darkness that no scrubbing could remove. After a few seconds of frantic thrashing the arms slowly recedes into the void as my shadow consumes them. The rest flee as the darkness shrinks back down to my shadow's standard size.

"That's how you do it," my shadow says, crossing his arms and giving us his trademark mocking grin.

I look hard at him. My shadow, corruption itself and a manifestation of my id had always been strong. I was told it was my human nature that made him so potent, the wisdom of the human race pushing his limits into unknown territories. But the level of power he has now is greater than ever. Did something happen during our merging to make him stronger? Just as horrors chased me in my dreams did he get some kind of corruption power up? I don't know and my shadow is not inclined to tell when I confront him about it.

"I had it under control," Whisper growls, his voice a purring tone that echoes loudly in the expanse around us.

"Sure you did, you flea-ridden rat," my shadow scoffs. "If they ate you I'm sure your foul taste would have sent them to their grave."

Tuning out their bickering I focus on the horizon. I can see more out there regrouping. It wouldn't be long before they attack again. Joining me Sarrow also looks at the indistinct shapes gathering in the distance.

"Brother, when is the last time you slept?" Sarrow says quietly so no one else can hear. Worry lines crease her forehead and for a brief instant she looks her true age. For a long moment I don't answer. The thought of lying does occur to me, but I have an honest streak that gets me in trouble more often than not.

"A few days," I say, exhausted. It suddenly feels like the world is crushing me.

"Is it Sarah?" Sarrow asks in a soft tone.

I prepare myself for the pain that name would bring. I expect hot needles to pierce my heart and a wave of misery to wash over me. Holding my breath I wait and feel nothing, the corruption inside of me eating away even that bit of emotion. _Is anything real anymore?_

"No, I put that behind me," I say, not sure if it is true or not. Sarah had only died a short time ago, I expect the pain to still be fresh but now it's like it happened to someone else... someone I no longer know.

"Is it... that then?" Sarrow asks, a small note of fear in her voice. Not looking at her I nod. "You can't go on like this, brother. You must face these demons and not hide from them. I have told you what you must do. Now it is for you to follow that course. If you don't..." She trails off not needing to continue. She is right. There is only one way I can face this. In truth I knew it all along, it had happened on that day as well. When my shadow and I merged something had tried to take us over and it took both of us together to repel it. Foolishly I had thought it done. But with each passing night it only gets worse.

"Ok," I say, resigned.

"Tonight then?" Sarrow demands.

"Yeah..."

"Do you want me by your side?"

"No," I say. "This is something I need to do alone." _Well almost alone_ , I mentally add, watching my shadow who scatters into bits as Whisper leaps at him only to reform nearby. I only half listen as my shadow makes randy comments about Whisper's sexual choices involving moles and poodles. This day couldn't end fast enough. A cursory glance behind me and I see the cracks in reality joining my home and Sheol. This is where Melephos had crossed over. Appearing like windows of various sizes I could see ruins of buildings and the crack paved streets of my home. Palentor and Sarrow both said that the worlds would separate again but it could take years or even decades. I was told of the five pillars, each one connected to an ancient one that held the worlds apart. As long as one pillar remained standing, the worlds would be separate. This way it would take all five acting together to reunite the worlds, and from the way they acted at my trial that would never happen. But looking at the pockets of reality around me, clearly the rules could be bent, perhaps even broken. If this could be achieved by mortals, what else is possible?

Sarrow suddenly seizes my arm. "Brother, look," she says in a trembling voice, pointing to the horizon. I don't see anything other than the creatures that have been hounding us. Then I see it. If Sarrow hadn't already confirmed it, I would have thought my hallucinations were acting up again.

I'm hesitant to ever employ the word impossible. Traveling the five worlds and seeing gods up close, the word has lost almost all meaning for me. Yet that is the first thought to pass through my mind. _This is impossible_. The horizon is moving.

Lifting skyward, beneath the many armed creatures who scatter like fleas off a dead rat, the sands part revealing a monster that is disturbingly familiar. It is shiny black with tentacles covering most of its visible surface. They must be massive for me to see them from this distance. Even more disturbing is the sheer speed at which it snatches the smaller creatures. Lifting them high as if they weigh nothing, high pitch squeals fill the emptiness that resonates in the primitive part of my mind. I know that sound, the cry of the damned. A maw opens in the black surface large enough to fit even Whisper in, and one by one the creatures are tossed in. The sound of breaking bones drowns out their cries. Before the events in Chicago I would have said this was is biggest creature I've ever seen. Much bigger than the dragon Zinneth, it towers over the landscape like a new ruler enjoying the spoils of war. The sun behind the creature gives it a strange glow as the light reflects off its polished skin.

"By the five..." Sarrow says in awe.

"Shifter, I think it's time we leave," Whisper says, coming over to us. He gives the creature a wary look as it continues to eat.

"For a change I agree with the rat," my shadow adds, appearing behind him as a silhouette.

"What the fuck is that?" James Clifford says, running over. Sarah's older brother had been promoted to head of the new special division call ICE, the Interworld Control Enforcement Agency. I don't know why they were leaving out the A, perhaps ICEA doesn't sound as interesting. He has light blonde hair and tan skin from constant sun exposure with cool blue eyes that remind me so much of his sister. Wearing army attire he holds an assault rifle in one hand and a short range radio in the other. "The spawn of Melephos," Sarrow says, her expression awestruck and her voice weak.

"The what?" I demand. Surely this thing can't be related to Melephos, though it does look like a smaller version of the devourer.

"Old tales from when the Kiraten traveled the worlds freely told of powerful creatures in the land of Sheol second only to the dragons. They are said to be so powerful that even the devourer could not feast on them."

"That looks much bigger than a dragon," Whisper says.

"Yeah, a lot bigger," I add.

"It does indeed," Sarrow agrees. "I do not understand. Something so large and powerful should not exist. It took the five together to make the dragons, but this..." She falls silent, shaking her head.

"I don't care about any of that," James says, sweat glistening on his brow. "Can it come to Earth?" Startled I look back at the merged worlds. If it could come through then it would be Melephos all over again.

"No," Sarrow says firmly. "Melephos was too large and powerful to cross to Fomoria by himself. It took all of Solarkar's followers to do this. This creature will not be able to travel there on its own." The ground shudders as the creature finished its snack and sinks below the sands, heading right for us.

"If you fools have had enough talking, I think it's time to leave," my shadow says. James didn't even bother responding, instead he begins barking orders into his radio. It's hardly necessary; everyone is already on their way. Laying my hands on Whisper and Sarrow I watch the men cross the tear in reality. Once the last one crosses over, I shift us away from the hot sands to the frigid Chicago air. Turning I watch through reality as the monstrous shape draws closer like a charging sand dune. Entering the mine field there is a series of thunderous explosions and both Sarrow and I clamp our hands over our ears as the creature ruins a days' worth of work in seconds. James and the others can't see or hear across the worlds but the pockets of merged reality give them enough to know whats happening. Slowly the sounds dissipate as the creature moves on, its sheer bulk expanding the entire minefield as it passes by without any noticeable damage. Taking my hands from my ears I direct my gaze from Sheol and look at James whose face is an angry mask.

"All of them?" He asks.

I nod.

"Shit, all that for nothing," he says, his shoulders slumping. "I'll try to come up with something new. Let's call it a night." Then, looking to the early morning sky with a tinge of orange on the horizon, he adds. "Rather, make that a day."

"You must not give up, James of house Clifford," Sarrow says. "We shall find a way to protect Fomoria from the creations of Melephos."

"Yeah, you're right," James says brightening. I give Sarrow a warm smile. She always knows exactly what to say. "Ok boys, clear the area and bring the guns online as soon as we are gone."

Sheathing Worldkey I pick up Whisper who is now the size of a large cat placing him on my shoulder. The feeling of unreality returns as I walk with James and Sarrow and do my best to ignore the dozens of large automated weapons pointing in our direction. Every few days even from my distant home I could hear the deafening reports of gunfire and accompanying explosions as a another nasty crossed over and was exterminated. Waving to men behind fortified bunkers and even more lining the few intact rooftops with anti-tank weaponry, I know we are in safe hands. Well, as safe as we can be until the worlds separate once more.

"Thanks for the help today," James says.

"Clan Shifter shall never rest while our foes remain!" Whisper says in his purring tone. Reaching up I scratch his ears. James gives me a puzzled look. Now that Whisper is in the human world only Sarrow and I can hear him, our senses stretching beyond this world.

"He said we won't give up," I say brushing sand off my long black trench coat.

James smiles at Whisper. "If only I had a dozen like you..." He pauses a moment then adds. "Especially if you were full sized."

"With that many you could conquer the entire world," Whisper says in all seriousness and I can't help but laugh. I have no doubt he is right.

Waving farewell to James, we get in a Humvee driven by an officer whose posture is so stiff I would be amazed if he can bend over. We drive in silence amidst the ruins of Chicago, Whisper sticking his head out the window, his eyes closed in pleasure. Collapsed buildings and various piles of rumble made the way slow going. Many compare the damage to an atomic bomb, though what had happened was far more devastating. Melephos the devourer entered our world with the aid of his disciple Solarkar, wreaking havoc upon the city and the entire world. Now, nothing is the same and Shifters Inc. is busier than ever.

"Might snow tonight," the driver says, probably in some attempt to break the awkward silence or to encourage Sarrow and me to roll up our windows. Being part Kiraten neither of us are bothered by either the heat or the cold and, from the suggestive tone of the man along with the way he's bundling himself up, I don't think he shares that luxury.

"Snow?" Sarrow says in a puzzled tone, taking her gaze away from the city ruins, the cool air sending her hair flying.

"That's right! You've never seen snow!" Whisper says excitedly pulling his head back inside. "It's great stuff! White and fluffy just like me, it falls from the sky when it gets cold. We can go play in it soon!"

"It is just frozen water," I clarify at Sarrow's confused look. "Will the wonders of this world never cease?" Sarrow says in amazement. The driver coughes and drives on in silence.

****

Thirty minutes later we reach the checkpoint with dozens of armed guards and tanks waiting for us. Sandbag walls line the area along with quickly constructed towers that have spot lights scanning the perimeter. After a quick ID check, we are clear to continue driving past television vans and reporters. Thankful for the tinted glass, we pass by unmolested for a change. Shifters Inc. has been approached by every major news organization, all desperate for a scoop on the other worlds. They all want the same thing, to see the other worlds and bring back film or photos. I did my best to explain the problem of shifting technology but they kept pestering until I asked my shadow to drive them off... they haven't been back since.

It is another thirty minutes down mostly empty streets to Shifters Inc. Acting as both a home and our business headquarters, Sarrow has turned the old dojo into the first place I can truly call home. It has everything we need. A large space up front with small offices lining the right side one for each of us, and a large spacious living area in the back. We even have a receptionist who does all of our finances and computer work. He is a good guy in his early fifties with an 'I don't gave a fuck hairstyle' and an attitude to match. A large man, he was a high school teacher earlier in his life and applies those skills to the persistent pests that keep bothering Sarrow and me. He is diligent in his duties and I'm not surprised when I see him waiting outside for us. The vehicle comes to a stop and we get out as Sarrow lets out a large yawn, stretching widely.

"Hi, Ed. You're up early," I say, my voice laced with exhaustion.

"James Clifford gave me a call and I had to clear out all the 'maggots' before you arrived," Ed Masterson says shrugging. The 'maggots' as he called them were those lurking around hoping for a quick story. In the past he had used everything from paintball guns to a fire hose to get rid of unwanted guests. My shadow had thoroughly approved.

"You didn't do anything too bad?" I ask and my shadow cackles.

"I don't like talking about my felonies," he says simply, opening the door for us. The Humvee takes off as we head inside, the fresh smell of coffee wrapping me up like a babe in swaddling. Going around Ed's desk which has an open laptop on it next to tall stack of papers that should have toppled over long ago, I make a straight line for the pot ready to use my sword if anything gets in my way. Reaching for my coffee cup with the colorful words 'Take my coffee and die' on it, I quickly fill it. I never previously drank coffee, but after Sarah's death it somehow felt right. Using her cup every time I take a sip makes it feel like she is there with me. Besides, with what lurkes in my sleep I need as much as I can get. My cup already half empty I head to my office, looking at each door. On the far left is Whisper's office. I can see him now curled up on a small bed in the middle of the desk, which is about all he has been using it for recently, since Brick went missing two weeks ago. He said something big was happening but didn't elaborate. At the time I ignored it. He was always exaggerating, now I'm not so sure. _Did something happen to him?_

The second office is Sarrow's and from my vantage I can see the gold plaque with her name on it, Sarrowind of Primehouse Ageroth. Primehouse Ageroth... Our father's house among the Kiraten in the world of Inti. Born of the Drow and the Kiraten, our father is simply known as the "Abomination" in Inti and the "Great One" in Pandedonium, the domain of Shalarom. A sudden shiver shakes meat the mere thought of the corruptor.

Taking my eye from Sarrow's door I focus on my plate. It reads 'Jerry Price' and below that 'Shifter.' Going inside I take off Worldkey, hanging it on the mantle behind my desk. Collapsing into my chair I sigh as the weight of the day's events fall upon me all at once. Closing my eyes briefly I take a deep breath.

"You're not going to sleep here are you?" My shadow says, a dark spot on the ceiling.

"No," I sigh. "I'd rather not sleep at all."

"That makes two of us," my shadow says darkly. "It's all your fault what's been happening to us."

"Mine?" I state it like a question but now with Worldkey off my body the fuzziness and unreality quickly fog my thoughts and even the act of talking is a chore.

"Yes, yours," my shadow says. "This happened since our joining, now I can't even rest at all."

"You actually sleep?"

"No, but when you sleep... I... collect myself and recover my strength."

"You were plenty powerful today," I say.

"That was all I had stupid," my shadow says hotly, leaning against the corner. "Before in the other worlds I could do so much, now it's much harder. I'm stronger than ever before but I tire quickly. You need to fix this."

I look at him and then over his shoulder to where Sarah's urn rested. As dark as my shadow I knew from the many times I handled it that it would be cool to the touch with the words 'Sarah Clifford of Clan Shifter; She was a roaring fire in a dark world' set into a gold pressed plate in the front. With the unreality settling over me I can feel nothing at all at her death. Somehow that is even worse.

"Sarrow has a plan," I say reluctantly.

"And you only thought now to mention it?" My shadow scoffs. "Well fool, go do it."

"She suggested that if you go inside me, then the corruption can't attack my sleeping mind," I say.

"You mean like her," my shadow says. Sarrow, like me and all Drow, has a shadow, but it is noticeably weaker than mine. It spends most of its time inside her and I've only seen it out on a few occasions, erupting out of her like an oil rig explosion. Still, having spent so much time inside her had given her special abilities that she had used when we first met. She is able to sense corruption and even communicate with me in dreams through our shared blood. Those were the first dreams I've ever had. Now I have far, far worse.

"We can't go on like this. It's worth a try," I say, my voice slurring. I can't stay awake much longer and the dreams will find me soon. For a long moment my shadow doesn't respond, he simply looks at me.

"Whatever tried to take us over is still in you," my shadow says darkly. "If I rest inside you, it might consume me and you as well."

"I know, but I can't go on much longer."

"Ok," my shadow says after a short pause. "But for tonight only, if it doesn't help, then forget it." With that his dark form falls apart into a light cloud swirling around me. As gentle as breathing in mist he enters my body. Like when I was holding Worldkey the fog lifts and I feel more myself than I have in a month. Pushing up from my chair, l leave my office, waving to Ed and Sarrow who are busy talking up front. Ed gives me a friendly wave and Sarrow a knowing nod. Heading into the back, past our neat kitchen and living area, I open my bedroom door. Just like my office it is spotlessly clean with every item set into its own place. When I had lived with my mother it had been the same as staying in a junkyard, only nastier. It gave me a deep compulsion to make my living area as clean as possible. Flopping down on my bed I don't even have a chance to look at the white walls or the neatly arranged posters before my eyes close and the dreams take me.

Connect With John Sharp

I hope you have enjoyed reading my book. I have lots of plans for future titles and many many other books that are fermenting in my mind. Yes the smell is atrocious. Don't ask for more details. I would love to hear from any of you! Feel free to email me at johnsharpbooks@hotmail.com I'm also on facebook which I don't check nearly as often as I should. You can also check out my website at http://www.johnsharpbooks.com
