A Scientific Rejection, Book I: The Making (On Indefinite Hiatus)

Chapter Seven (B): A Lesson Learned

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Chapter Seven (B): A Lesson Learned

“Rest easy, Little Pup,” He answered softly, the sight of his lion-like teeth doing nothing to soothe Warrick’s hackles. “We have a long journey ahead of us. There will be plenty of time to explain what I am later. As for who I am, well, I have held many titles over the years. For instance, to those who are not among the cognoscenti, your father likens me to a beloved mentor, while some have named me Teacher, though most still refer to me as The Mortimus.” He paused, smiling, but those fearsome teeth made him appear all the more sinister. “However, the vast majority of those who have found themselves in your rarefied position have generally chosen to identify me simply as…grandfather.”

*        *        *

          “Grandfather?!” Warrick’s whispered exclamation echoed around the clearing like a shout, startling him. He looked quickly to his right, seeking an explanation from his father, and saw nothing other than an empty space. He spun around, reaching out with his senses, and could find no trace of his father or any other living thing within the clearing, or for a great distance beyond it. For that matter, he could find no trace of the monster staring down at him, so intently.

          “I would say that ‘monster’ is rather uncalled for. Wouldn’t you?” asked the…being calmly, quirking a brow, and causing the facets of his face to glint in the moonlight.

          “He can read my mind!” thought Warrick, trying desperately to get a handle on the terror that he felt at facing this…thing.

          “Thing will be fine, for now, but terror is unnecessary,” stated Mortimus.

          “Get out of my head!” shouted Warrick, incensed at the…thing’s intrusion. “Where is my father?!” he demanded, ignoring the racing of his heart.

          Mortimus tilted his head to the side, as though in thought. “He is at home,” he answered simply.

          “Well, I’m not staying here alone,” Warrick stated decisively, making a wide circle about the Thing and then proceeding towards the woods.

          “Are you certain that is where you came in?” called Mortimus casually.

          “Yes!” Warrick exclaimed, unwilling to turn around, but he slowed with uncertainty as he reached the edge of the trees. Deciding that he had nothing to lose, he quickly plunged into the wilderness. After all, they were near the Pack House, and the Palace. Surely, he would soon come upon a sentry or some sign that he was in familiar territory. He had been running in these woods his entire life. As he walked, the unsettling thought came to him that, though he had been running these woods for nearly twenty-one years, both day and night, he could not recall ever having seen such a vast clearing. As Warrick tried to recall its image to his head, he walked around the broad stump that stood before him. He stopped, and then stared back at it, recalling that he had walked around that same stump when he was travelling with his father on the way to that…place. Striding ahead, away from that marker with greater confidence now, he believed that he was no more than fifteen minutes from walking into the clearing surrounding the Pack House.