The Mirror's Tale by P. W. Catanese

Author:P. W. Catanese
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Fantasy, Adventure
ISBN: 9781416912514
Publisher: Aladdin
Published: 2006-05-22T14:00:00+00:00

Bert heard his uncle curse and scream at the whining dogs. They didn’t want to enter the Tunnel of Stars. Finally their hulking shadows appeared at the bottom of the stairs, and all eight of the enormous animals were prodded into the chamber, herded by a sweaty, panting Uncle Hugh. They cowered at his side, whining, with ears flattened and tails curled between their legs, looking as meek as puppies.

“Bring them here,” Bert said. He pointed to the wide bowl at his feet, where raw chunks of meat soaked in a thick, yellow oil. His uncle shoved the dogs toward the bowl. They lowered their snouts and sniffed at the meat.

“Make them eat it,” Bert said to Uncle Hugh.

“Eat,” his uncle snapped, pointing.

There was a moment of hesitation. Then one dog eased its mouth open and gingerly clamped its teeth around a hunk of flesh. The others joined in. The sounds of chewing, smacking, and tearing filled the cool cavern air. Bert watched from his throne with two fingers pressed against his temple.

The dogs grew more ravenous as they ate, snarling as they fought for the last few pieces. When the meat was gone, they scraped the bowl clean with their tongues. Bert leaned forward and bounced a fist on the arm of his chair, thinking about his brother and trying to calm the rage that grew stronger by the minute.

One of the dogs started to growl, and soon the rest joined in. They paced in a circle around the empty bowl and snapped at phantoms in the air. Their mouths filled with gray foam that overflowed from their jaws and hung like beards. The growls turned into bubbling, gargling sounds. The dogs seemed to weaken. Their steps grew shorter, and their legs bent until their bellies scraped the ground as they slunk. Finally, almost as one, they fell onto their sides. Their chests heaved, their tongues spilled out onto the floor, and the foam pooled around their jaws.

“What’s happening to my dogs?” Uncle Hugh asked dreamily.

“Wait and see,” Bert said, leaning back in the throne. He rested his face on his hand and smiled. “Now tell me something, Uncle. Just because I’m curious, not because it matters anymore. Were you up to something, here at The Crags? Plotting against the baron? Thinking about setting up your own little kingdom, hmmm?”

Uncle Hugh’s mouth twisted and shook as if he did not want to answer. His eyes watered, and he squeezed them shut. Finally, haltingly, he spoke as the words were forced out against his will. “Hated my brother … for being named baron instead of me … for ordering me to this pile of rock … dreamed about his death … gathering men, turning them against him … but I need more … biding my time …”

“Enough,” Bert said, waving his hand. “You can forget all that now. There will be revenge, Uncle, but it won’t be yours. And I won’t bide my time, either.” He looked at the dogs as they jerked and twitched amid a growing pool of spittle.

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