Book 2: Chapter 53: Mans Best Friend

Name:Heretical Fishing Author:
Book 2: Chapter 53: Mans Best Friend

Like a bat out of hell, Warrant Officer Williams flew flipper-first into the nightmare doggo.

I had but a moment to fear for the new arrival’s wellbeing, but then Bill made contact. He pinwheeled away from the hound’s lithe form like a pigeon flung from a windshield. The dog yelped in panic and his hindquarters lowered as he spun. Bill, still spinning like a feathered beyblade and honking in panic, slammed back-first into the sand ten meters away. He scrambled to his webbed feet, puffing his feathers out and preparing to attack once more—the hound was faster.

Shadows formed around his legs. Power swelled, and the moment I saw tendrils of black reach up from the sand beside Bill, I reached down and grabbed the hound by the scruff of his neck.

“No! Bad boy!”

He turned back into a chihuahua in my grasp, giving me side-eye as he let out a soft growl.

“I don’t care who started it, mister!”

Bill, whose wings were spread and foot was lifted as if he was a kung fu crane, cocked his head to the side and let out a questioning honk.

“He isn’t attacking me, Bill—he wants to be mates.”

Grrr, the chihuahua-shaped predator growled, tongue licking the roof of his mouth.

I sighed, rubbing my eyes.

“Yeah, I know he hit you, but he thought you were gonna attack me. Besides, I’m pretty sure he hurt himself more than you.

I held the pupper up, supporting his rump so we were eye to eye.

“I need your word that you’ll be friends with all the creatures here. If you hurt anyone...” I let a hint of iron enter my voice. “I won’t forgive you. Understand?”

The hound’s body shifted, morphed, and the next thing I knew, I was holding a full-grown golden retriever in my arms. He barked once in agreement, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. He sniffed my chin, then licked me. My eyes went wide, and all I could do for a long moment was blink. Then I pulled him tight. His soft fur between my fingers was delightful.

Bill turned to the side and shook his feathers, trying to appear indifferent and looking anything but. Remembering I had company, I glanced back at everyone else. They were completely frozen, some yet to dismiss powers I had no idea they even possessed: Theo’s shining golden light blinked out; Fergus had gauntlets of earth that turned to sand and fell to the ground as I raised an eyebrow; and Brad had—was that a gods’ damned knife hand?

Before I could inspect it further, it faded away, replaced by a prideful grin on his face.

“Damn—you guys have been busy, huh?”

“Fischer...” Maria said.

“What’s up?” I asked, turning toward her.

She pointed at the golden retriever in my arms, whose head darted forward and licked her finger. She pulled her hand back, giggled, then cleared her throat and did her best to appear serious.

“We have—er—more important things to discuss.”

“Really? I have a new shapeshifting dog—it’s not that big a deal.” I waggled my eyebrows; the hound barked.

“Hellhound,” Ellis said, not looking up from his notepad as his pencil blurred across its pages.

I glanced down at the chihuahua-looking nightmare dog, then back up at Ellis.

“... Hellhound?”

“Correct.” He blessed me with a moment of eye contact. “I understand your hesitance to know anything about the church, but if you’re going to befriend the beast, you should understand what it is.”

“You’re a hellhound?” I asked him. “How the frack did you get here?”

His eyes went distant for a moment before refocusing on me. He moved forward, hesitated, then lowered his head. Somehow, I understood his intent. I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his.

All at once, I was drawn in. I felt others there, and as I reached out toward them, it was... everyone, each creature and cultivator present. Even Lemon was there, lingering in the periphery.

Then, he showed us.

His pack, his family, dwindling one-by-one. Millenia spent alone. Emptiness. Stasis. Reawakening. His battle on the sand. Me, wobbling and drunk as a sailor as I kicked the absolute piss out of him by accident. Injury. Healing. Loneliness. Despair. Despair. Despair.

Regret—not for his situation, but for subjecting us to his emotions. Finally, his decision; his plan to join us—to become part of our pack. A split second later, my head darted back, and I gazed into his sad eyes. His snout dipped down like a dog who had been told off by his master and expected punishment. My vision blurred, but not because I was getting drawn in again. I wiped at my face absentmindedly, sweeping away the tear that rolled down one cheek.

“I’m so sorry, mate...” I said, unable to forget the pain I’d caused him.

Maria whimpered, and the next moment, her arms were wrapped around us.

“Of course you can stay!” she half-yelled, her voice shaking.

A blue of movement from the side, followed by a barrage of hisses and chirps as Claws and Snips joined in on the cuddle puddle. Snips blew a stream of sorrowful bubbles while Claws rubbed the hellhound all over with rapidfire strokes of her paw pads. His tail started to wag slowly, tickling my arm. I bathed in their contact, soaking it up to soothe the lingering heartache inside me after experiencing the hound’s sorrow. I felt something soft brush up against my leg, and I peered down, seeing Bill had joined us. Though he didn’t touch the hellhound directly, he was showing his support. A brown blur landed atop the pile of animals, and Cinnamon gave his head a tiny lick before leaping back toward the egg she’d returned to the bed.

“It’s kinda ugly, isn’t it?” Maria whispered, raising an eyebrow at me.

Borks nodded in agreement, and I tried not to laugh, all too aware of the volatile look on Cinnamon’s face following Maria’s pronouncement.

I failed at keeping the laughter bottled up.

“Sorry, Cinnamon,” I said as the laugh trailed away. “I’m sure it will be super cute when its feathers come in, but for now... it looks kinda alien.”

She raised her nose at us—an impressive feat, considering she was only a foot from the ground. She moved over the hatchling, gently curling her torso around it.

I turned to Bill, who was leaning over the makeshift nest, one of his large eyes peering at the hatchling closely.

“Would you mind taking care of feeding this little one, Bill?” I cocked my head. “Wait, baby pelicans eat fish, right?”

He puffed his chest out, raised his head, and unleashed a mighty honk. Without further ado, he flew off toward the ocean, no doubt in search of fish.

With things quieting down, I went and fetched my bowl before returning to sit by Cinnamon. The pudding within had cooled completely, but as I put the first bite into my mouth, I still let out a contented noise. As with every lemon dish we’d made so far, Barry’s sugar cut through the bitterness like a knife through butter. The soft sponge on top was dry, especially after cooling down. That was where the sauce came in. It had thickened as heat left the dish, and when it combined in my mouth with the sponge, the textures flitted across my tongue, the tart lemon and sweet sugar guiding the dance.

“It’s a shame it cooled down,” Duncan said, sitting beside me and Maria on the sand. “It’s good now, but when it was fresh...” A blissful smile came to his face. “It was indescribable.”

“Ah, that’s a shame,” I replied, grinning at him. “Guess we’ll just have to make another one, huh, Maria?”

The smile she returned my way was as bright as a lighthouse.

“A true shame, but I suppose we can manage it.”

Some time later, Snips and Claws were curled up in our laps, and I dropped my right hand to pet Borks’s soft fur, who was in his golden retriever form, snoozing on the sand as he leaned against my thigh. His weight was a welcome one, and as his yellow fur tickled the palm of my hand, I was completely present. Thoughts existed, of course—too many to count: the knowledge that I’d only known Borks for an hour, yet he already felt like a part of my family—a part of me; small flashes of worry about Maria and my friends, animal and human both; excitement—and fear—for the future; and a million other fleeting ideas, sensations, and possibilities that were a side-effect of the human condition.

Rather than dive into any of the thoughts, they passed by like leaves on the wind, merely appearing, being acknowledged, then continuing on to disappear from awareness. My breaths came slow and steady, each one cooling my nostrils on the intake and warming them as I exhaled. Maria’s arm was hooked in mine and her head resting against my shoulder. The smell of her hair drifted up, engulfing and banishing every other thought. As if sensing it, she squeezed me tight.

It made the already present smile on my face spread even wider, but then she pulled away, letting out a yawn.

“I’d better get going—if I stay any longer, I think I’ll fall asleep.”

“I know how you feel,” I replied, stretching my back as I extended my hands toward the darkened sky. “I’ll walk you home.”

***

The following morning, I woke to something softly tapping the covers of the bed.

Fwip, fwip, fwip.

I cracked an eye in confusion, only to be assaulted by a barrage of sniffs as Borks leaned down to greet me. He was sitting on the bed, his long-haired tail the source of the sound.

“Morning, mate!” I said, reaching both hands up to scratch behind his ears.

He licked my cheek in response, causing an absolute deluge of serotonin to rush through me.

“Fischer!” came a yell from outside, and I bolted upright. Before I could stand, my door was thrown open, and Maria stared at me, her eyes wide. “Marcus just got here.”

“Marcus?” I asked, my sleep-addled brain trying to catch up. That was good—everyone was worried about the caravan, but then why was Maria so panicked? “Is the caravan okay?”

“Not the caravan, Fischer. Just Marcus.”

“... what?”

She chewed her cheek.

“Better you hear it from him.”

I threw the covers aside, all but running as I threw on some clothes and followed her.

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Hello, friends. I adjusted chapter 50 because of feedback. I was going to post the exerpts here, but I ended up changing pretty much every paragraph. You can check it out if you like, or I'll list the tl;dr below.

Marcus brought 10 lemons, Fischer buys them because he realizes that Marcus is genuinly panicked, and he intends to give them out to the villagers.

At the start of chapter 51, I added a paragraph detailing that Fischer gaves the lemons to Sue and Stergill, they made lemon pastries that were delightful, and it inspired Fischer and Maria to experiment in the kitchen with desserts.