Chapter 8 - Drake
We ran through the desert, paws thundering on the ground, kicking up dirt and sand behind us. I inhaled the fresh air, caught glimpses of scents of fresh prey and rain somewhere on the horizon. The wind ran through my fur. It felt great to stretch out my legs, to get out and just run. It had been so long since I had gotten the chance to shift and run through the desert that I hadn’t realized how badly I’d missed it.
But I couldn’t enjoy it for too long. We were on patrol, after all, and I couldn’t afford to lose myself in the run the way I normally would. Still, I could let myself forget all the problems for at least a few moments.
Except that only lasted a couple more minutes. A second later, a horrific stench made me stagger to a halt. Behind me, I heard other growls and the skidding of paws as others followed suit, the same reek forcing them to stop as well.
The smell of sulfur burned my nostrils, made worse by the heightened sense of being in wolf form. I growled, pawing at the ground as I shook my head to get rid of the worst of the scent, but it did nothing.
Glancing around, I tried to catch a glimpse of anything that might be causing the stench, only to find nothing that might point to it. The wind carried it across the desert, somewhere from the northwest. A growl reverberated low in my throat as I turned toward it, fur bristling. By now, we all knew the scent: demons. Some were nearby, or had been recently.
Snarling, I lunged forward in that direction, taking off like a gunshot. The others followed behind me. My eyes stung as I forced myself to follow the horrendous smell. There were ironweapons in the pack strapped to my back. If we came across the demons, they would have an unpleasant surprise to deal with.
After a few minutes, I came to a stop, snarling. The sulfur stench was even stronger here, almost unbearable. But what I saw was even worse. Horror struck me as I took in the sight before me.
The waterbed was entirely dry, as if there had never been water here to begin with. The shrubbery was blackened and twisted as if burnt. The ground seemed scorched, blackened, almost as if cursed. I knew without knowing a thing about horticulture that nothing would grow here for a long time, not even the most resilient succulent.
A low growl reverberated next to me. Turning, I saw Elias. His hulking wolf form loomed over most of the rest of the pack. His fangs were bared in a snarl as he looked out at the devastation. A moment later, the wolf was gone, replaced with Elias’s human form, that same snarl and pure rage burning on his face.
“I can’t believe it,” Elias said as Sam, Oz, and I shifted back to human.
“This is…what the hell?” Sam said.
“The demons cut off the water somehow,” Oz snarled.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Elias said. “The water was fine a quarter-mile back. It flows straight here. What the hell could have done this?”
“You don’t think it was the demons?” Sam asked.
Elias shook his head, but I was the one who answered.
“If the demons could do this, then they would have already,” I said.
No one responded right away. Everyone looked out at the devastation, taking it in.
Elias took a long moment to study the sight, clearly holding back rage as his fingers curled into fists. No one spoke, letting him come up with a plan. A moment later, he turned to look at us.
“Everyone go in pairs, scout the area,” he barked at the others. To Sam, Oz, and me, he said, “You three stay.”
Everyone obeyed. A minute later, the four of us were alone, staring down at a dry riverbed that had been fresh just a day ago.
I clambered into the middle, crouching and rubbing my hand on the ground. Bone-dry dirt coated my fingers, not a trace of moisture to be found anywhere.
“I went past this area yesterday. It shouldn’t be possible for it to get this dry in twenty-four hours,” I said.
Shaking his head, Elias growled. He ran his hands along the riverbed as well, brow furrowed.
“What do you think, Oz?” Elias asked.
Oz was uncharacteristically grim as he looked out, his jaw set as he shook his head. “I’m not sure,” he said. “This isn’t like anything I’ve seen in any of my research, at least not when it comes to imps and other lesser demons. This is too expansive, too powerful for anything that low-tier.”
The Oracle’s warning echoed in my head once again as I stared out at the desert. Some great danger was coming. Looking out at the devastation, I believed every word of it. Whatever was happening, there was more to it than a little bit of chaos by some imps.
“So what are we thinking, then?” Elias asked.
“No idea.” Oz’s eyes narrowed as he considered. They swept across the ruined landscape, calculating, assessing every detail that he could in the short span of time he had. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have said it was one of the more powerful demons. The reek of sulfur definitely suggests as much. But that doesn’t make any sense. Imps and other lesser demons might help a wraith. Greater demons rarely leave their domain, and there’s no way in hell they would work with another creature. Based on all my research, they’re selfish by nature. They wouldn’t want to share any power, let alone with something like a wraith.”
“All right, so we’re looking for something that isn’t a demon but does similar damage to one, and shares some of the same telltale signs,” Elias muttered. “Should be simple.”
