Alabaster Emissaries by Sylvan Scott
The media lined up along the suburban streets as newscasters pushed and jostled for B-reel footage to go with the emerging story. Frustrated residents who lived near the Bloomington police department watched the flurry of activity with annoyance. Anthony and Karl pushed through the crowd as they left. They did their best to ignore the reporters.
“Ok, she’s not there; that was a waste of two hours,” Karl grumbled.
“At least we can cross it off the list,” Anthony agreed.
They crossed the street to the civic center where Karl had parked his car. Fluorescent lights flickered as he put his key in the lock. Castori emerged from the trees at the lot’s edge and the lights went out altogether.
“I see that you have failed,” he snarled. It was a matter-of-fact statement but his sharp teeth and heavy, dog-like jaw made the words accusatory. An umbral mastiff, probably the only one still free, followed him obediently.
Anthony wished Wiste were there but he had returned to NeverEarth to inform the palace of the queen’s disappearance. Few knew the twisting pathways of the World Labyrinth like Wiste and he could get to the Alabaster Palace in no time at all.
“What next?”
“We should liberate the mastiffs,” Castori said. “With them we can mount a hunt for the queen.”
Anthony shook his head. “You can’t just attack the dog pound, Castori.”
“And why not?”
“Well, for one, since the police are involved, there might be guns,” Karl said.
“They’re also the legitimate authorities,” Anthony added. “You think Allasande would like it if you started cracking skulls when her whole reason in coming here was peaceful?”
The troll bristled at the use of the queen’s proper name, but said nothing. Anthony and Allasande had been friends for decades. When they’d first met, Anthony had been eight and she, six. Now, she was in her early forties. It had been one of the biggest shocks in seeing her again. The three-to-one ratio of time passage between NeverEarth and Earth could be disturbing.
The troll snorted and shook his head. “It would be against my vows to leave them in the hands of these … foreigners.” Seeing Anthony’s expression he hastily added, “But for now, I’ll hold my mastiff in reserve.”
“Fine.” Anthony frowned. “So, what about the Queen?”
“We could check the social networks online,” Karl suggested. “I mean, this has got to be a trending topic by now. Maybe someone’s seen something.”
The troll looked skeptical. “Surveillance?”
“Of a sort.” Karl turned to Anthony. “Look, I can use the wireless in your dorm and do some searches.” Karl didn’t own a smartphone.
Anthony nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s our best bet. Since we struck out here, it’s the only idea we have.”
Castori chuckled. It was cold and cruel; the kind of laugh that brought Anthony back to when they first met beneath the Magnusfar mountains. “You think that is all we can do?” he asked. He cracked his knuckles and glanced down at the lone mastiff at his side.
“What are you planning?” Anthony eyed the hound warily. It gazed back, solid-black eyes glistening in the moonlight.
“I am the best tracker in all of High Water—a Champion of the Sallast Games—I don’t need my full pack to find the Queen.” He turned and gave a shrill whistle to the mastiff. It fell in behind him.
“Castori! This isn’t your world! Things don’t work here like you think they should!”
The troll raised a clawed hand to wave off Anthony’s concern and kept going.
“Damn it, Castori: just wait!”
“I don’t wait,” he growled. “When my Queen is in danger, I act.”
With those words he and the umbral mastiff vanished into the night.
“Ok, she’s not there; that was a waste of two hours,” Karl grumbled.
“At least we can cross it off the list,” Anthony agreed.
They crossed the street to the civic center where Karl had parked his car. Fluorescent lights flickered as he put his key in the lock. Castori emerged from the trees at the lot’s edge and the lights went out altogether.
“I see that you have failed,” he snarled. It was a matter-of-fact statement but his sharp teeth and heavy, dog-like jaw made the words accusatory. An umbral mastiff, probably the only one still free, followed him obediently.
Anthony wished Wiste were there but he had returned to NeverEarth to inform the palace of the queen’s disappearance. Few knew the twisting pathways of the World Labyrinth like Wiste and he could get to the Alabaster Palace in no time at all.
“What next?”
“We should liberate the mastiffs,” Castori said. “With them we can mount a hunt for the queen.”
Anthony shook his head. “You can’t just attack the dog pound, Castori.”
“And why not?”
“Well, for one, since the police are involved, there might be guns,” Karl said.
“They’re also the legitimate authorities,” Anthony added. “You think Allasande would like it if you started cracking skulls when her whole reason in coming here was peaceful?”
The troll bristled at the use of the queen’s proper name, but said nothing. Anthony and Allasande had been friends for decades. When they’d first met, Anthony had been eight and she, six. Now, she was in her early forties. It had been one of the biggest shocks in seeing her again. The three-to-one ratio of time passage between NeverEarth and Earth could be disturbing.
The troll snorted and shook his head. “It would be against my vows to leave them in the hands of these … foreigners.” Seeing Anthony’s expression he hastily added, “But for now, I’ll hold my mastiff in reserve.”
“Fine.” Anthony frowned. “So, what about the Queen?”
“We could check the social networks online,” Karl suggested. “I mean, this has got to be a trending topic by now. Maybe someone’s seen something.”
The troll looked skeptical. “Surveillance?”
“Of a sort.” Karl turned to Anthony. “Look, I can use the wireless in your dorm and do some searches.” Karl didn’t own a smartphone.
Anthony nodded slowly. “I suppose that’s our best bet. Since we struck out here, it’s the only idea we have.”
Castori chuckled. It was cold and cruel; the kind of laugh that brought Anthony back to when they first met beneath the Magnusfar mountains. “You think that is all we can do?” he asked. He cracked his knuckles and glanced down at the lone mastiff at his side.
“What are you planning?” Anthony eyed the hound warily. It gazed back, solid-black eyes glistening in the moonlight.
“I am the best tracker in all of High Water—a Champion of the Sallast Games—I don’t need my full pack to find the Queen.” He turned and gave a shrill whistle to the mastiff. It fell in behind him.
“Castori! This isn’t your world! Things don’t work here like you think they should!”
The troll raised a clawed hand to wave off Anthony’s concern and kept going.
“Damn it, Castori: just wait!”
“I don’t wait,” he growled. “When my Queen is in danger, I act.”
With those words he and the umbral mastiff vanished into the night.