Home for the Howlidays, page 6
Nobody notices when a cat does something clever. “Oh my god, the cat managed to open the garage door! And filed our taxes! They’re so sneaky!” But they spend so much time monitoring the behaviour of their dogs, nothing gets by them. If I’m discovered, I die. Curses suck.
“Rex, heel,” Adam commanded, staring at me. Twit. I moved up and sat by his right leg, then circled around and sat by his left leg and looked up at him. He nodded and ruffled my ears. “Good boy, come.” Puppy training was going well, just not too well.
Together we walked up to the gate. It was a sandstone fence maybe three feet high, with a wrought iron gate topped by a stylized sun. The gravel path was that sort of fake red rock people like, and prickled my paws. The place reminded me of a Victorian pastiche of hermetic occult orders. I sat and scratched my left ear with my rear paw.
Janet pushed the gate open and went inside. She was nice enough. She liked to pretend to be put out all the time, but I could smell how much she really cared about Adam. He needed her and she wouldn’t let him down. She wasn’t fond of dogs, but that’s just good taste.
A bearded man greeted them in, believe it or not, a Roman toga. He held his hands together forming a circle between the fingers. I shook my head disapprovingly. Too much, dude, too much. A little goes a long way.
Adam stepped forward, his right leg buckling slightly, and caught his balance. I whined, the smell of his bone disease always present, like a rancid layer of oil in my nose.
He held out his hand. “Adam Cabot. This is Janet Singh. We called ahead about the chapel?”
“Flamen Aurelius. We spoke on the phone. Please come in.” The man held his arm to the side and walked beside Adam where I was supposed to heel. I held back, following behind, tail drooping.
Janet jumped in. “We want to look around first. I’m not sure that this is the right place, but we’re here to look.”
Adam smiled at her. She was trying.
The Flamen—I knew that was a title—would be the head priest here, dedicated to the order of worship of a single god. By the stylized sun on the gate, I surmised that god was Sol. People have been worshipping the sun since they were living in caves. How about something new? So boring.
“The Sun Garden, I’ll show you that first. The building is styled as a Roman villa, a square with an open middle. Tomorrow is our holiest day, Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, or the Day of Birth of the Unconquerable Sun. I have to say, we’re really excited about a wedding here, especially tomorrow of all days. I hope we can convince you.”
They stepped into the building, and Adam asked, “Is he okay, my dog, Rex?”
“Rex? A king is indeed welcome.”
Buttering me up? Suspicious.
Janet was fidgeting. “Um, Mr. Aurelius, what is the significance of the goat skull out front?”
“Yes, well, first, just call me Aurelius, or Aurie. As to the skull, well, our order did sacrifice animals in the ancient days, almost two thousand years ago. We obtained that skull from a local butcher and placed it there as our first and only one. A nod to tradition, I assure you, nothing more.”
The man smelled weaselly. He was lying. They did indeed sacrifice animals still, I was sure of it. If I could get away from Adam and his cancerous leg, I could probably track down what. If I really cared, that is.
I lay down on the grass beside the front door and yawned my biggest dog yawn.
Adam looked over at me and smiled. “Stay,” he commanded.
I gave him my saddest droopy eye look and lay my head on my paws. It’s my best move and worked like a charm on the sap. He smiled and the three humans went inside. As soon as they moved out of view, I concentrated on enjoying the warmth of the sun on my fur.
Of course, I could still hear them, so it wasn’t the best snooze. If only they could just be still for a couple hours, that would be great.
My mind drifted back, through long hazy years. Through endless births and youths, before the repeated and inevitable deaths, to a lazy day in Madrid. It was hot, and I was desperate. I remember the hunger, consuming me. Countless had died, in a warm snap after a brutally cold winter. Fend for yourself, or die of starvation, a terrible passing of the harshest agony and torment. I stretched out with my will and levitated the last loaf of mouldy bread off the shelf, right over someone reaching to get it. He called foul. “But my babies!” he shouted, yet I threw my coin at the merchant and fled. His voice called after me, and I spun as I heard the magic resonate around me like ripples in a still pond. The loaf slipped from my hands, fell to the dirt street. I curled into a foetal position, burning in the sun, then crawled to an alley. My bones snapped one by one, my skin tore, my flesh burned. When I was done, I was not dead but an ass, a donkey. The first form.
Here in the present, voices drifted in and out of my awareness. Okay, that’s not true, I heard everything. Stupid dog body. I was attuned to them both, Adam most of all. He had raised me from a pup, and despite my efforts to the contrary, my canine anatomy was entirely dialled into him. The depravity of the curse was boundless. If I ever discovered who hexed me back in Renaissance Madrid, I’d find a way to travel back in time and bite them, and I’d growl and shake my head back and forth. Ugh, being a dog sucks. I sighed wetly.
“The light in the Sun Garden is wonderful. The altar is designed to reflect the sun best tomorrow, specifically at noon. The altar lights up and fills the courtyard with golden light. It’s hard on the eyes, and if you have any witnesses, they wouldn’t see much for a quarter hour or so.”
“No, no guests. Just us.” Adam’s voice was even, but I could hear the regret. My ears drooped, curse them, responding involuntarily to my master’s drama.
“Oh, well, that’s a lot to ask then. As much as we’d like to share the special day with you, rearranging our ceremony hinders other people’s plans. Maybe a justice of the peace?”
Adam was quiet, his thoughts to himself. It was a good question. Even I didn’t know why he was so set on being married tomorrow of all days.
Janet nudged him. “Tell him, Adam. It’s important enough.”
My left ear raised. What’s this now?
I could hear his jaw creak from the tension, but then he relaxed. “I have stage 4 leukaemia. I don’t have long to live. The drug therapy hasn’t worked. I won’t see next Christmas, unless a bone marrow transplant can happen. Even then . . . well, it’s not a sure thing. My family just lost my mother. There is no way they’d fly out here for a wedding, I couldn’t ask that of them. I know it’s not important, it’s selfish even, but I always dreamed that I would be married on Christmas.”
I could hear his voice crack. A low whine rose in my gut.
“I had nearly lost hope that I’d meet someone like Janet. And there she was. Perfect in every way a man could want. I wish we had more time together, my love. I’m sorry it’s turning out to be this way. I want to marry you, here, in the sun. A brief shining moment to celebrate our eternal bond. Let’s banish the shadows, for a little while, shall we?”
I could hear Janet weeping, and then the sound of their embrace. Even the Roman priest was struggling, his breathing shallow with shared grief. Me? I was a hard-nosed hound. I wasn’t affected by this. I . . . damn it. I think a bug flew in my eye.
“Look, I’m sympathetic, by the God, who wouldn’t be. If you had fifty guests, even twenty, I’d make the call, add you to the ceremony. I can give you twenty minutes, at eleven a.m. After that, we’ll need to rush you out to organize Dies Natalis. I’m sorry, but that’s all I can do.”
Adam squeezed his fists, tendons straining, and Janet murmured some obscure human noise like she just swallowed a sad cookie; you’d know the sound if you heard it.
“Thank you, we accept. You’ve saved us, really,” he said, offering his hand.
Aurelius shook the hand, their palms meeting gently. “Let’s go talk about the ceremony you want to have. My office is just through there.”
I stood up, my ears drooping nearly to the ground. Even my wiry coat felt flat, as if I was being pulled into the ground. I was a grey melting mess of sad dog. They had so little time, and while I knew he was sick, he had never told me anything about it. Stage 4, that sounded bad. How many stages are there? Ten? No, only four. I felt that in my own bones as if they too were writhing from the corruption.
I had to help. I loped off, looking for a phone. And some thumbs.
I jogged around the corner and tripped and fell. Stupid big puppy feet. No, that wasn’t it. I cocked my head to the side, one ear up, one down. Oh, it was my belly. Agh, the sudden pain rippled through me again. What is that?
I heard it then, the chanting. Okay, creepy monk seminary to a forgotten Roman god, no problem. Chanting? Come on, what is this, the Dark Ages? Forgetting the stomach pain, I loped to investigate. As I got closer, the cramps ran through me again, but I was ready for it, so I only tensed up. I felt waves of energy, like heat mirages rising from hot sand, but not hot, more like . . . waves is a good word, let’s stick with that.
Around the corner, at the back behind the “Roman villa”, sneer sneer, was a path. The magic was coming from there. Oh, yes, it was magic. I’m a wizard, not a clumsy mutt puppy. Time to think like a wizard. Ah, so the magic feels like, well, like turmeric tastes. So, transformational magic! My heart froze. My fur shivered. Those black hearts were transforming something. Another wizard sent to hell on the wrong end of their curse, no doubt! I ran.
At the clearing were six vile cultists, performing their profane magics to send another innocent and well-meaning soul into a wasteland of—
Alarmed by movement, my head twisted to the side, ears up. Damn it, just a chipmunk. Whoa, big one. Bet that would be tasty—Focus!
I crept back to the clearing, belly on the ground in the brush, my nose poking out through a willow bush. At the centre of the clearing, between the sextet of sorcerers, was a bassinet. They were sacrificing a baby? And where was the high priest, back at the temple trying to cajole Adam into opting for the extended shiny ceremony only for an extra two hundred bucks? So they were entirely routine about the human sacrifice, got it, no big deal here.
I charged in and tripped over a twig, rolled to my feet, and darted forward. Two of the Roman wannabes grabbed for me, but I got through one’s legs, grabbed the bassinet in my teeth, and dashed into the woods.
The dirt path unwound before me. I focused on my feet. Can’t trip now, don’t want to harm the—fruit? I skidded to a stop and looked inside. Grapes. I rescued grapes.
Huffing my best huff, I turned around and carried the basket back to the drunk romans.
They halted where they were and then let me pass. I placed it back in their sad little circle and then used a paw to align it the way it was. I moved away and sat, watching.
“That’s not a dog.”
“It’s ugly, sure but—”
The others laughed, but the first one continued, “No, look closely, look at its aura.”
They all peered, and one by one, an expression of wonder overtook their wine-summoning faces.
This was it. The moment I die. Again. They found out I was a person in an animal body. It had happened six times before, mostly in the early days, before I began to protect myself.
“It’s a person, trapped in a dog’s body.”
Any second now.
“Well, we can fix that. Can’t we?”
I looked at the leader, the first one that noticed me. He stepped closer and squatted before me. He was in his forties. Had a pointed beard, greying a little. His eyes seemed kind, wise.
“My name is Flamen Merro, or Doug Cartwright, if you want. We’re an order of monks, dedicated to Sol Invictis, the sun god. But we do have some magic. If you want us to help you, please write ‘yes’ in the dirt.”
My wizardly grey dog eyebrows rose on their own, echoing my feeling of hope. The unfamiliar sensation buzzed inside me, like a cold drink of water, for the first time in hundreds of years and scores of lives. Feeling not unlike a trained horse, I scratched “etiam” in the dirt, Latin for “yes”.
He nodded and rose. “You’re in luck. You’re cursed somehow. Curses are our speciality, or rather, breaking them. A fair bit of preparation, meditation, and your magical aura will crack like an egg tomorrow at noon during our ceremony. There is a problem, though. Your aura is very unstable. The magic of our grounds appears to be keeping you together, but as soon as you leave, the curse will likely trigger. I don’t know what that will do, but curses are called curses for a reason. Stay with us tonight, meditate, drink some sacred wine, and when your aura is weakened enough, tomorrow at noon, you should be fine.”
I nodded. Vale, puppy feet! That’s Latin for farewell.
They led me to their rectory, seminary, monk cell place, and closeted me in a room. It was stone, with a door and a bamboo mat, but little else.
Doug gave me some water in a bowl. “Meditate, clear your mind of your desires. Concentrate only upon the sounds and feelings of your body. If you begin thinking, try to cleanse the thoughts by feeling your breath in and out of your, er, snout.”
I get it, he wanted me to attune to the magic of the place.
“Once your mind is clear of all thoughts,” he continued.
I’ll attune, got it.
“You’ll search about for the aura, the essence of this place. The magic of the structure.”
I gave him my best doggy death glare.
Unhindered, he continued, “When you’ve become in synchronicity with the place, you’ll—”
If you say it, I’ll bite you. I swear to Sol Invictis.
“—attune to the energies of our magic.”
I lay down and whined, a paw over my nose.
“Good, get to it. This will be hard work, don’t leave this room for anything. If you aren’t perfectly in tune, the magic could backfire. You could trigger the curse, or possibly make this state permanent. Yes, that’s more likely. The curse would end and you’d be this, a dog, for the rest of your dog life. But at least you’re a puppy, so that’s . . . longer, I guess. Sorry.”
It had been a very long time since I’d attuned to anything, but I settled down to do the work. It’s hard not to think.
AT LEAST AN hour went by, maybe two. My mind flashed unbidden thoughts, and I banished them, thinking of air going in and out of my snout. A chipmunk burbled up from the recesses. I ignored it. The feeling of shaking my coat arose, but I repressed the irrepressible urge and focused. Adam’s leg. I blinked. No, ignore that. I’ll be human tomorrow. I can help him better as a wizard. Breathing, in and out. One with the monastery. What do Romans call monasteries? No, push that away. The air enters me, that is everything.
“Rex,” came the sound, a memory of running in the park, chasing a cloth frisbee. My heart pounded, but I pushed it aside. Dog stuff, gone tomorrow.
“Rex!” The sound was real, not a thought. Somewhere far away. Didn’t he know . . . no, he wouldn’t know. His nine-months-old puppy was missing, that’s all he knew. It was fine. I didn’t care. I’d lived with dozens of families and they all went away eventually. I didn’t care, that was dead in me.
“Rex!” I could hear the timbre, his worry, his love for me. How? It had only been eight months since he picked me from the litter. My ears sagged, my thoughts betraying me.
Concentrate. It doesn’t matter. He’ll live. Oh my god! I . . .
I whined. But he wouldn’t, would he. Not for long. His last months in life would be spent wondering where I went, missing me. Even if I became human and told him, and somehow he believed me, it wouldn’t be the same.
This was my chance! Sol Invictis only comes once a year. If I leave the grounds, the curse could trigger, and although they didn’t know, I knew that I would die, to be reincarnated again. Somewhere, likely nowhere near here. How would I get back here, as a gerbil, or a parakeet in Australia? And if I die, Adam would still be heartbroken.
It’s my life. I can’t sacrifice my future. It’s been too long. I can’t bear—
“Rex! Please come!”
My heart nearly exploded. Anxiety coursed through my body. He loved me. How could I turn my back on him? If it meant my life, so be it, I couldn’t stand feeling his pain a moment longer. Damn it.
I pawed open the door and ran. I ran for Adam.
The hallway opened before me, blurring past. At the stairs, I tripped and banged my jaws together, paws scrambling to keep running. Gaining purchase, I darted up the stairs, careened off the wall, and ran toward the voice.
“Rex?”
I banged off another wall, cornering too wide, and then ran up to him. I spun in a circle and licked his face as he ruffled my ears and tried to hug me. I was too squirmy, and moved in and out of his arms. He laughed and finally I deigned to allow him to squeeze me tight.
“Where did you go, boy? Were you in the kitchen?”
My ears perked up. Kitchen?
Adam laughed once more and scratched the thick hair on my neck. “Come on, let’s go to the hotel.”
I happily followed him out to the car, where Janet was looking at the woods through her bird-watching binoculars, then skidded to a stop. The attunement! They said if I left, the curse could trigger. I whined.
Flamen Aurelius (what was his real name, I wondered, Melvin?) jogged out. “Wait!”
Janet came running over and gave me her own hug (which I allowed, and even licked her cheek); she tasted like sunscreen.
“Melvin” came over and huffed once. “The guys have been talking. Did you want to stay here tonight? Our dormitory is only half full. You could each have a room, or share one, your preference.”
Janet giggled. “Spending the night before apart is a tradition.”
Adam beamed and took her hand. “Do you really want to? I’d be okay with that. We’d have to get some supper and then come back.”
The head priest shook his head. “Oh no, you can stay. We’ll have a small dinner tonight and a feast tomorrow at sunset. Really, the others had fun playing with Rex today. They’d love to have such a noble friend around as long as you can share him.”
