Ordinary Joe and the Mark of Four

Pushing Joe back, Kinga turned and drew her sword. A man emerged from the shadows, enormous, at least ten feet tall and half as wide across, legs like tree trunks and arms bulging with thick muscles. Battered armour strained around his body fastened with long buckled straps. A vast sword; bigger than Joe; hung from his hip. His face was scarred, one eye pulled shut, and curling black tattoos snaked about his bald head. He stared blankly ahead.

A thick chain looped from his hand and following it down Joe stumbled back with a gasp. At the giant’s feet stood a vicious looking hound; bigger than Joe had ever seen. Instead of fur, leathery skin covered its bulk, broken in places by protruding horn-like bones. It snarled, baring its fangs. Reece pointed at it,

“You want to get a muzzle for that mate, you’ll get it taken off you.” The giant ignored him, staring blankly ahead, and when he finally spoke it was a guttural sound, as if a bear had learned to talk.

“I’m wonderin’ to myself little girl, why you fret ‘bout bein’ ’eard.” Joe jumped. Had its lips moved? He glanced at Kinga, who stayed silent, eyes fierce. She wasn’t looking at the Giant, but the hound, and it stared back, their eyes locked.

“Small ‘un like you ought not be pointin’ ’er sword at strangers,” the hound said. Joe blinked. The giant was not holding the chain but tethered to the hound by a thick manacle around his wrist. The hound was the giant’s master. Kinga kept her sword raised.

“Many predators,” she said, struggling to find the right words.

“Strange accent you got child, sounds Ayshian t’me.” It drew back its slavering lips revealing rows of dangerous fangs.

“From border territories,” Kinga said.

“Border territories. Hmm.” It scratched an ear with its back paw. “Y’know what I’m thinking? I’m thinking, why would a bunch of Ayshian children be maunderin’ out here in the Forests of Junn.” Joe tried to keep calm but his muscles tensed and a ball of fear settled in his stomach. Kinga was trying to talk them out of trouble, but couldn’t find the right words. No wonder the hound was suspicious. They must look strange; Joe and Kinga in school uniform, Reece in jeans and hoody, and Sam in rags. They couldn’t look more out of place if they tried.

“Pilgrimage,” Kinga said, “Rite of youth. A test.” The hound scratched at a fang with one enormous claw.

“Pilgrimage, hmmmmm. Now I is ’plexed.” It nodded at Sam, “Yer friend seems a bit long in the tooth f’the rite, ’less he’s yer mentor. But why, I ask meself, would a ’prentice speak in ’er elder’s place?” Sam stepped fretfully from foot to foot, mumbling and staring at the floor.

“Not intrude,” Kinga said, “Private task. Council law.” The hound’s eyes narrowed. Joe glanced at Reece who looked as confused as he was. He had no idea what a pilgrimage was, or if it was a good excuse for them to be in the forest, but whether the hound believed it or not, this council, whoever they were, scared it.

“True enough,” the hound said, “The pilgrimage ain’t t’be disturbed, but if you was in danger, I’m thinking I have a duty to warn yer.” He watched Kinga carefully but she said nothing. “This morning I got a warrant from ’atriila. Seems there’s a criminal on the loose. Didn’t pay it much heed if I’m honest. Seemed a bit far-fetched, but they say this criminal is a boy from Earth.” Kinga was stone-faced but Joe could sense she was agitated. Did the hound know who he was? Had it recognised him? How could it, no-one in Antigol knew what he looked like.

“Grateful for warning,” Kinga said, stepping back to leave, “Sure King Caldor will find boy.” The hound snapped its jaws, stopping her in her tracks,

“Warrant’s not from Caldor little girl, ’fraid he ain’t King no more. Lord Avarat warms the throne now. ’Eard he threw Caldor down ’is own dungeons. ’Bout time, always struck me as a bit of a shade lover.” Kinga tried to keep the shock from her face, but the hound saw her reaction and narrowed its eyes, “Knew ’im did yer, Ayshian girl? S’pose you knew his pet warlock, Maven. Warrant’s out for ‘im n’all.” Kinga flinched, pressing back against Joe. “Seems he been usin’ a gate to visit the boy. I din’t believe it meself, but now…” It’s gaze drifted to Joe. For a second no-one moved. The hound smiled and gave a few small barks to the giant, who reached into a bag hanging from his belt and pulled out a small bronze casket. His giant fingers gripped the lid and pulled it open. A cloud of light appeared; dozens of glowing moths, purple and white and blue, swirling around each other.

“Majia moths,” the hound said, “Told they will lead me to the boy. Best let ’em check the area ’fore I let you go.” Kinga cursed under her breath and the cloud hovered towards her. They stopped, glowing brightly, and for a second Joe hoped they would be drawn to Kinga’s power, but they moved on, glowing brighter still, closing in on him. Stumbling back, he raised his hand and his fingers brushed the cloud.

It exploded.

The hound chortled,

“Thought as much!” he said, “You’ll earn me a fat reward boy.” Kinga’s gaze flicked between the giant and its master, ready to strike the first one that moved, but Joe pushed past her,

“Who is Avarat?” he said, “Why does he want me?” The hound stared at him,

“He don’t know who he is! They ain’t told ’im nuffink!” The hound bent back his head and roared with laughter.

“I’m Joe Owen,” Joe said, anger boiling up inside him, “I’m nobody.” The hound’s eyes glittered,

“Nobody? Why, I ask meself, would they ’ide a nobody ’mong the shades?” Joe’s cheeks reddened,

“I’m Joe Owen,” he said again; quieter this time.

“You got the mark.” The Hound nodded at Joe’s hand. “Makes you heir to ’Atriila.” Joe tried to cover the mark and the Hound laughed again. It had known who he was all along. “Prophecy says the chosen one will return, and here you are. Y’don’t even know what you are, do you boy?” Tears welled in Joe’s eyes. What did it mean? What did it know? Kinga pulled him back, though her grip was gentle. The hound stopped laughing,

“Got no need for the rest of yer. Hand ’im over and you can go.”

“Not happening,” Kinga said. The hound bared its teeth,

“Bad move little girl.” It gave a sharp bark and the giant fixed its gaze on Joe and stomped towards him.

Kinga leapt forward, screaming. The hound snapped at her, but she was too fast, vaulting away from its jaws and bringing both feet into the giant’s chest. She may as well have kicked a mountain and fell to the ground, rolling back onto her feet, red faced and cursing.

Reece rushed forward, grabbing one of the giant’s legs, trying to pull it over, but it shook him free and sent him crashing into the forest. Kinga leapt against a tree and sprang into its branches. She threw herself into the air, catching hold of a clump of vines and swinging around the giant’s head. Her legs wrapped around its neck and she brought her sword down hard.

The blade shattered.

The giant didn’t even notice, lurching on towards Joe, carrying her with it. Its hands reached out to grab him but suddenly it stopped, lurching back, caught by the vines. Its hands fumbled to its neck, face puzzled, and the chain fastened to its wrist pulled tight, dragging the hound back through the dirt. It yelped and gave an angry short bark. There was a click and the chain fell to the ground. It turned its gaze to Joe. Kinga called out, hanging from the giant, but it was too late. The hound sprang.

“Bad dog!” screamed Sam. He came out of nowhere, wild eyed and lightning fast, crashing into the hound and sending it rolling into the dirt. Before it recovered he threw himself at it, arms locking around its struggling body. “Not hurt Joe! Bad dog!”

They rolled across the floor, the loose chain whipping around them like an angry snake. Sam hung on for his life, but the hound was too strong. It jerked free, snapping its teeth at empty air and slashed out with its claws. Sam grunted, falling to his knees, hand clasped to his torn shirt. Blood poured through his fingers. The beast turned back to Joe, snarling.

“No more games boy,” it snarled. Joe shivered. He wanted to run to Sam and help him, but the hound blocked his way, and he wasn’t sure his trembling legs would move anyway. He needed Kinga’s help, but she was struggling to free herself from the giant.

LEAVE THEM. SAVE YOURSELF. RUN.

Joe ran.

He burst into the forest, branches scratching his arms and hooking his clothes, but he tore free, the hound crashing through the trees behind him. He darted left and right, slipping through small gaps, hoping the beast would get stuck, but glancing back he found it snapping at his heels, crashing into trees and sending bark splintering.

He fell, crying out, and scrambled back to his feet, feeling the hound’s hot breath on his neck. His lungs were screaming, throat raw and gasping, but he threw himself on, heart thundering. To his horror the trees disappeared. He’d reached the edge of the forest.

“Nowhere to hide boy!” roared the hound and he turned, meaning to head back, knowing it would catch him easily out in the open. The hound leapt at him, jaws wide.

It fell short with a yelp, fangs snapping. The chain trailing behind it was caught between two rocks, holding the hound fast. It launched itself at him again, still tethered, and the rock shook. In seconds it would be free. He ran, panicked, not knowing where he was going. The beast roared again and he knew it had broken loose. It was coming, he had to find…

The ground fell away.

He screamed, tumbling down; eyes wide in shock. Far below, swirling water flashed silver in the blazing sun. The cliff-face raced past in a blur and the hound appeared at its edge, howling at his escape.

He hit the water, air punched from his lungs, and plunged into the icy depths.

Choking.

Swirling.

Flashing.

He struggled against surging water, thrashing in terror. Dark shapes surged past and he grabbed at them desperately, but his numb fingers found nothing. His legs grew heavy, dragging him deeper into darkness, each kick weaker than the last until he had no fight left and fell limp… sinking…sinking…

Something tugged at him.

Another tug, then two, three, pulling him up.

Through the water the land wavered. Shapes moved against the sky, strange creatures, hard to see but short, bulky things, pointing down. He broke the surface and gulped in air, blinking water from his eyes. At the riverside, four pig-like creatures, dressed in black armour, stood on a rock, pulling on thin twine stretching into the water. Joe’s coat was snagged with tiny hooks and the pigmen hauled him to the bank, fishing him from the river and dropping him onto the rock. He coughed up water, blinking against the sun. Everything was spinning.

He thought he saw the hound on the cliff edge high above, ears flattened and barking, though the sound was lost over the roar of the river. A look came over it and it turned back into the forest.

Suddenly the pigmen darted away and a face appeared, a woman, pale and beautiful with long white hair.

“Well, what do we have here?” she said. Her smile was colder than the water. He realised, sinking into sleep, what had bothered him about the hound. It had looked terrified.