“What the hell did you breed together to make this thing?” I breathed, looking at the elegant dog before me. The dog in question looked essentially like a golden retriever, but it had silky black fur and bright, intelligent green eyes. He blinked at me, unanswering.
“Nuthin special, dearie. Just two goldies. Must’a been a mutation,” The breeder, just a standard farmer, drawled. This man’s speech annoyed me. The way he said mutation sounded like “Moo-tay-shawn.” Actually, everyone in this stupid town sounded like this. After my parents just randomly decided to move us out of the perfectly good city of New York, we somehow ended up in a desert town in Texas. Not even popular Texan places, like Dallas or Austin, but a small, literally off the map town of Cal Springs. Surprise, there are no springs. That’s just the name. There are two sorts of people in this place, and they are both completely stereotypical. There are the washed out, country guys like this farmer, and the extremely rich families who have hair that looks like they are balancing watermelons on their heads. My parents strive to be the watermelon-haired people. They seem to think that moving far away from my friends, city life, and fun to a town rich with strangers, tumbleweeds, and boring, can all be made up for with the simple purchase of a dog. They’re wrong, but no amount of my speech will make them change their mind. Not that they ever listen to my speech anyways. Or even my comments.
“Juliana Garcilio! Language, please!” My mother frowned at me. I rolled my eyes. ‘Juliana Garcilio’ is my full name, but my friends call me Cil. Or at least my New York friends do. I haven’t made any here, nor do I want to.
“How much do you want for him?” My dad asked the farmer, fingering his wallet.
“Not much. Mayhaps a sheep,” The farmer replied.
“In cash,” My dad clarified, one step away from rolling his eyes like I did.
“Oh, er, that’d be about a hundid dallas,” The farmer clarified. Dad pulled a Ben Franklin out of his wallet, slapping it into the farmer’s hand. Mom pulled a red leash and matching collar out of her purse, handing it to me. I fastened the collar around the dog’s neck, attaching the leash to that. Well, it looked like I was getting a dog, like it or not.
“Does he have a name?” I asked the farmer.
“Aw, nawt yet. We decided to leave that to the buyah. Ya know, make ‘im more personal that way,” The farmer said. He continued rambling on about naming the dog, and how special it was to pick the right name, long after I stopped listening.
“How about we call him Muffin?” My mom suggested. I shot her a death glare.
“If we name this dog Muffin, I promise you that I will never look at it,” I replied. She huffed indignantly. The dog looked at her glaringly as well. I had to admit, I had never seen this much expression from an animal before.
“What do you suggest then, Juls?” Dad asked me.
“Cil, not Juls, and…” I thought for a moment. “I think he should be called Zeus.” The dog looked up at me, blinking in what almost seemed like a grateful way.
“Uh, I guess,” My mom approved the name. Thank god we hadn’t ended up with a dog named muffin or cupcake or some other cutesy name. I don’t think I would be able to stand it if he ended up like that.
“Alright then, that’s settled. Let’s head on home then,” Dad said briskly. We all walked out to the car, which was really a brand new truck, so that we could “fit in” according to my parents. What they didn’t realize is that the new, shiney, super fancy truck stuck out more than if we had stuck with our old S.U.V. Most people around here had old, beat up trucks that played country music through the shattered windows so you could hear the music over the cough of the engine. Our new, shiny car with classical music playing so softly it couldn’t be heard over the soft purr of the engine didn’t exactly fit in, but my parents did what they wanted. We drove down the winding gravel roads, Zeus sitting next to me and panting gently in the dry heat. He looked at me curiously a few times, as if taking me in. I knew there was a lot to take in, just in this car alone. My mother’s fluffy blonde hair pressed against the headrest of her seat, hot pink top and white pants standing out against the black leather. My father’s hair (also blond) slicked back, his bright green eyes reflected in the rearview mirror. And then there was me. Dyed black hair tied back in a ponytail, random red streaks flying through it. My mother hadn’t wanted it that way, but I had hand dyed it when I was home alone, and guess what? The dye I used is permanent, and my mother can’t take the sight of roots poking through a different color at the top of my head, so it’s stayed that way ever since. My eyes are a plain blue, almost gray in some lighting. Pale skin, thin lips painted with black lipstick. A tight shortsleeve shirt, spiderweb gloves that stretched to my elbows. Short black skirt, ripped tights that transitioned into heavy combat boots. Yes, I was the black sheep of the family, in more ways than one. Soon enough, we pulled into the driveway of the new house. It’s pretty big, bigger than our already large apartment in New York. That’s probably the only good part of this place, I get a bigger room, more privacy, and a better sound system for my music. But I wouldn’t let my parents know that I enjoyed an aspect of this place. That would excite them too much. Instead, I simply grabbed Zeus by the leash and led him through the double doors into our house. I quickly showed Zeus around the house by taking his leash and walking around the whole house. I spoke little, (well, what are you supposed to say to a dog?) just telling Zeus what room it was and stuff. Then, I took him off his leash, and walked into my room. Zeus followed me, sitting outside my door after I had shut it. He made some piteous whining noises. I huffed, opened the door. I then flopped down on my bed, bored and not quite knowing what to do. I couldn’t call my friends, I was in the wrong time zone for them, they would be eating dinner right now. There was nothing I especially felt like doing. I pulled out my phone, turned on some music, keeping my volume low so that my parents didn’t come in and yell at me for it. I hummed along tunelessly to the screaming of the singers. But I soon turned it off because, like most things since I had moved, the singing reminded me of the people I had left behind. My friends Kai, Lola, Mia, and I were going to start a rock band before I had to leave. Kai would have been the singer, Lola the guitarist, Mia the base guitarist and backup vocals, and I would have been the drummer. We even had a name picked out and everything, the Burning Constellations. I wondered if they had picked out a new drummer, if they had already replaced me and were sitting around a dinner table, ready to record their first cover after they finished their meal. I sighed, absently stroking Zeus’s head as I listened to the sounds of my parents in the levels of the house below me. My father’s loud ringtone went off. I could hear snatches of his conversation, something about an “opportunity that couldn’t be missed” and a “three week stay.” I braced myself, ready for the words that were sure to come next, as they always came when you’re parents are in the business of politics. My father came into the doorway.
“Cil, it looks like something’s come up that your mother and I both have to go to. It looks like it’s just you and Zeus for the next three weeks, I am so sorry,” He said.
“That’s okay,” I lied. And then my father walked out of the room. I looked down at Zeus.
“I hope you know how to keep a thirteen year old loner occupied for three weeks,” I groaned at him, rolling over to stare at the wall before I could see Zeus wink.
*
“Okay Zeus, I’m going to bed now, and I want you to behave, alright?” I told Zeus sternly as I went into my room to get some sleep. It was the first night of the three weeks, and the two nights before I had woken up with Zeus laying on me, breathing into my face. How he had opened the door, I didn’t know, but I didn’t want him doing it again with my parents gone as it had scared the living daylights out of me. The corner of Zeus’s mouth twitched up, making him look like he was giving me a very mischievous grin. But that was stupid. Dogs couldn’t make facial expressions. I closed the door and turned out the light, laying down in my bed and closing my eyes, hoping sleep would come easily tonight as it so rarely did.
I found myself standing in what seemed to be the living room of a castle. There was a group of people sitting on the sofas, all laughing and talking amongst each other. A woman with jet-black hair broken by a few streaks of blonde who had black fairy wings on her back sat next to a man with pale skin and a joking grin on his face. On the opposite couch, there was a girl in steampunk clothing with purple hair, a red-head wearing a green dress, a boy with white hair and dirt on his face, and a furry blue creature who had glasses perched on his nose reading a book. Standing by one sofa stood a man with murky black hair and a snake-like air around him, a belt of weapons around his waist. Standing by the other sofa was a boy with dirty brown hair, bearing a striking resemblance to the snake man, also wearing a weapon belt. On the floor, playing a game of puzzles, were a boy and a girl of about four, both with black hair and white eyes. Across from them were two three year olds, one with auburn hair and the other with bright blonde hair. Everyone in the room was looking down at the kids fondly, and the conversation seemed to revolve around them. Suddenly, a cocoon of purple light flashed into the room. Everyone turned to look at it, even the toddlers on the floor. The light slowly melted away, showing a tall, imposing teenage boy. He had inky black hair, pale skin that seemed to gleam. His eyes were a bright, emerald green, reminding me of Zeus’s eyes. He wore a black button down, as well as black dress pants. On his back, he appeared to be wearing a long, furred cape that fastened at his neck with a clasp shaped like a skull. He had a confident, mischievous grin on his face, and a pair of glasses perched on his nose, not making him look old or bookish like the blue creature, but sneaky and somewhat old fashioned. The woman with black and blonde hair stood up with a gasp, the snake-like man and the boy who shared the resemblance to him stood in front of her protectively, both whipping knives from their belts and sinking into fighting stances.
“Rune!” The woman gasped.
“The fugitive?” The red haired girl with the green dress stood up as well, and everyone else in the room quickly followed suit, all staring at the boy with frightened looks on their faces. The boy smirked again.
“Oh, you can say my name. How quaint,” He said with a smirk, a slight british accent in his voice.
“What do you want?” The boy with brown hair who seemed to be the son of the snake-like man, growled at the new boy, Rune.
“Well, you see, what I want is a threat to be eliminated. Your little group,” Rune gestured to the group excluding the toddlers, the woman, the man with jet black hair, and the snake-like man. “Is becoming a little bit of a threat to me. I heard you’ve been planning to go and find me, return me to that prison I came from. So, naturally, I have to take care of that, as returning to that prison somewhat cramps my idea for taking over the world. Have fun, when you’re frozen in time. I think… Ten years should give me a good head start,” The boy smiled. Dark purple light began dancing in the palm of his hand, swirling around the group he had gestured to earlier. Their mouths opened in shock as a bubble of purple light enveloped them, freezing them in place, an expression of horror on all of their faces. The boy with the jet black hair smiled, wrapped himself in the same light, and disappeared. Then, my dream seemed to accelerate into fast speed. The toddlers grew older, taller, the woman with black and blonde hair slowly got more lines on her face, her hair with white streaks as well as blonde, same for the man. The whole time, the people within the bubble of light never moved an inch, never varied from their frozen expressions of horror, never moving from the spot or aging or changing at all. Soon, the woman and the man stopped coming into the view at all. Only the four toddlers, now teenagers, continued coming into the view. The boy with blonde hair came to have bright, bright blue eyes, white fairy wings eventually coming to rest on his back, and he tried to cheer everyone up, but you could see the sadness on his face when he looked at the people trapped within the little bubble of purple light. The boy with dark hair and white eyes hardly ever seemed to have an expression. He was always cold, like a rock, his expression only varying when he looked at the girl with auburn hair. The girl with auburn hair and warm brown eyes seemed shy, withdrawn, and kept on getting ignored accidentally. And then, lastly, there was the girl with black hair and white eyes, the twin of the boy like stone. She was lighthearted, mysterious, and always seemed to be dirtied with something, whether it was dirt or mud or even paint. But she often came into the living room crying, and talked to the people in the bubble for long lengths at a time, as if they could hear her. Maybe they could, who was I to say? Just when I was thinking that this was the longest dream I had ever experienced, the Rune boy materialized next to me, looking in the same direction I was, at the people in the bubble. He turned to me, a familiar smirk on his lips.
“It won’t be long now until they come out of that bubble. And my, my, will they have a surprise in store for them,” Rune grinned at me. And his cold hand grabbed my arm, snapping me quickly back into reality.
*
I shot out of bed, unaware as to what had awakened me. then I remembered my dream. I had heard something as the boy, Rune, had grabbed my arm, I had heard the shattering of glass. Memories flooded to me. Zeus! He was probably up to no good! I opened my door, suspicions confirmed as Zeus was not waiting outside it as he normally was. I raced down the stairs of the large house, taking the polished wood steps two at a time, and slid into the living room, flicking on the light. What I saw was not what I had expected. I had expected Zeus, sitting in maybe the wreckage of a plate or a vase he had knocked down, looking up at me as if feigning innocence. Instead, there was a boy with inky black hair, black clothes and a furred grey cape that fastened with a skull shaped clasp sitting on my couch.
“Dear me, I seem to have knocked your vase off the table with the edge of my cape. I’m terribly sorry,” Rune smirked, fingering the sharp edges of the shattered vase.
****
So what do you think of the third book so far??? I like where it's going, but I think this might have to be the last Wings and Fangs book, sadly. It was really really hard to find a cover for this book, so don't judge, OKAY????
