Michael Belmont and the Tomb of Anubis (The Adventures of Michael Belmont) (20 page)

He stopped and sat, letting out a final, horrible howl before beginning to transform back into a man right before their eyes.
 
The process looked extremely painful, as body parts shifted, cracked, and jerked into place.
 
Standing before them was the man who had first spoken.

"Sorry about all the fuss," he growled.
 
"My brothers and I like to play with our food before we eat it."

At this, Abigail buried her face in her hands and burst out in tears.

The man walked toward them, with a frown that a wolverine could be proud of.
 
He sprang at them, and before Michael knew what had happened the man had seized him, and then Liam, holding each under one of his strong, hairy arms.

Abigail let out a blood-curdling scream, to which many of the wolves began to howl, matching her pitch.

The big man gave the boys a squeeze.
 
They both kicked and punched at him with all their might, but he only laughed at them.

Abigail continued to shriek, and the wolves continued to howl.
 
It was the most terrible sound Michael had ever heard, and it cut through the cold night sky like a knife as the men dragged them all away.

Michael and Liam had each been tied to a tree with their hands bound behind their backs.
 
Neither had gotten any sleep that night, and both were more exhausted and scared than they had ever been in their lives.
 
They didn't know where Abigail had been taken, only that she had been dragged off screaming.

Michael watched as the terrible darkness of night began to wash away, and a small village spread out before them.
 
It was a rough and primitive looking place.
 
The huts were made out of stone and wood, and some had small streams of smoke billowing from the chimneys.
 
Stables could be made out off in the distance, where a few horses trotting about behind the makeshift wooden fence.

The sun was just coming up when the large man, who'd captured them the night before, strode up.
 
He had a bucket of water and a ladle, and lifted it up to Liam's face so he could drink.
 
Liam turned his head away.

"It's only water," the big man growled.
 
"You drink this, don't make me force it down you.
 
I can have a really bad temper."

Liam seemed to consider this for a moment before begrudgingly taking a drink from the ladle.
 
The man made Michael drink as well.

"My name is Ulf," the man said.
 
"In a few minutes, our chief is going to come and speak with you, his name is Fenris MacFarlane.
 
He lives in that place right over there," he said, pointing to one of the nicer looking huts.
 
"Make sure you show him the proper respect, I don't think he likes kids too much."
 
Ulf smiled at them fiercely, and left them alone once again.

"What are we going to do?" Liam whispered desperately.

"I don't know."
 
Michael strained at his bonds.
 
"What CAN we do?"
 
He didn't have any ideas at the moment.
 
"We can't fight our way out of this, and last night proved that trying to run away isn't much use.
 
Maybe we'll get the opportunity to sneak away quietly if we wait for the right moment."

A few minutes passed in silence.
 
Occasionally one of the villagers would walk by off in the distance, turning to stare at the boys as if they were some kind of zoo animals.
 
Finally, they watched as Fenris MacFarlane came stumbling out of his hut, yawn dramatically, and wave his arms in a broad stretch.

"MORNING, BOYS," he yelled enthusiastically.
 
And then coming closer he added, "I trust you slept well."

"Where's my sister!" Michael demanded, but Fenris acted as though he hadn't heard.

"Now the question that everyone's been askin' is, what's three lit'le kids like you doin' runnin' round in the forest by yerselves?"

"We were just out for a hike," Liam insisted.

"
Liar
," Fenris stated, shaking his finger back and forth in the boy's face.
 
"You've all got enough food for a week.
 
Now what kind of people let three kids off by themselves for a weeks hike through the forest, eh?
 
It's jus' not good parentin'."

Neither of the boys said anything.
 
Michael stared at Fenris with a look of defiance on his face.

"Yer secrets are yer own then, fair enough.
 
It don't really matter why you three wandered through my forest, I'm just glad you did.
 
We like visitors."

"Why isn't your village on the map?" Liam asked.
 
"I've lived nearby all my life and I had no idea there was a village out here."

"We like our privacy, see."

Michael shifted, trying to loosen his restraints.
 
"I thought you just said that you like visitors."

"Oh, we do, we do indeed.
 
But let's just say that not everyone understands and appreciates our traditions.
 
People seem to fear us.
 
Even the fair folk have placed protections on their groves to keep us out."

"Untie us and let us go," pleaded Liam.
 
"We won't tell anyone you're out here."

Fenris laughed.
 
"My clan has been livin' in this forest since the 1590s, when the English government attacked and scattered our people.
 
They accused us of being thieves, robbers, and murderers.
 
What can I say," he chuckled, "they were right.
 
Did you know that because of our reputation throughout the highlands, people began to call the full moon 'MacFarlane's Lantern?'"
 
His eyes, which had been glowing with nostalgia, grew angry.
 
"We've been bidin' our time, growin' stronger, and now that we're almost ready to make our move, we can't have you two boys run off back home and spoil our surprise.
 
I'm sorry gentleman, but you aren't goin' anywhere."

"What do you mean? There are three of us, what about Abby?" Michael pleaded.

"Oh, the girl.
 
Well, see you've arrived just in time for our Summer Hospitality Festival.
 
It occurs tonight, two days before the full moon.
 
Your lil' sister is going to be our guest of honor.
 
I suppose I should thank you.
 
Saved us the trouble of goin' out and findin' a girl ourselves, you did.
 
Although, this one is a bit puny.
 
But…she'll do," he said with an evil smirk.

Michael thought that his face looked eerily familiar when he smirked like that.

"Summer Hospitality Festival?
 
That doesn't sound so bad," Liam said with a hopeful but scared look.

Michael remembered the mural he had seen hanging in the night corridor at McGinty Castle, and it all became clear.
 
In fact, Fenris looked very much like the scruffy, wolfish man in the painting.
 
Perhaps he's the man's descendant
, Michael thought to himself.
 
Was Abigail going to be the victim in their murderous ceremony?
 
A torrent of rage and fear suddenly welled up within him.

"KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY SISTER, YOU DISGUSTING ANIMAL!" he screamed with all his might, pulling at his restraints so forcefully that the ropes around his wrists started to cut into his flesh.

"Good!
 
That's good, Michael.
 
I can feel the hatred burnin' within you.
 
Keep that up and we may even make you one of us.
 
You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
 
Fenris sneered and clapped Michael on the shoulder.
 

The boy ground his teeth in anger.

"And as for you, sweet-cake," he said to Liam, placing his finger under his chin and lifting up his head to expose his throat.
 
"Maybe we'll fatten
you
up for awhile.
 
You know it's funny, but the longer the food's been traumatized, the better it tastes."
 
He slapped Liam lightly on the cheek and let out a devious giggle.

Turning around to the small crowd of villagers who were now beginning to gather in front of the prisoners, Fenris said in a stern voice, "All right, listen up good, all of you.
 
These morsels here aren't to be touched.
 
I've got special plans for the both of 'em.
 
Now go on about yer business, there's plenty of work to be done before tonight's celebration."

Without saying another word to the boys, he strutted out of sight back down toward the village.

Several hours went by before Ulf returned to untied Michael and Liam.
 
They both fell to the ground, and it took a moment before they were able to stand up straight and walk.

"The boss wants to talk to you boys."
 
He combed through his scraggly beard with long, dirty claws.
 
"I assume you're both smart enough to realize that running won't do you any good?"

"As long as you have my sister, we're not going
anywhere
," Michael insisted.

"Fair enough," Ulf laughed with a patronizing grin.

They walked down the hill and through the huts.
 
Occasionally, a villager would stop what he or she was doing to stare impolitely as the boys passed by.
 
Everyone they saw was shabby and wild looking.

They walked along the stables and some pens where sheep and goats were being held.
 
The animals didn't look very happy.
 
Michael reasoned that it was instinctive for them to be terrified of their owners.
 
Wolves probably didn't make the most loving of shepherds.
 
Going on, he saw some fruit trees and a large vegetable garden.
 
There were chickens running about here and there as well.

Ulf noticed the curious looks on their faces.
 
"Oh, we eat the same things you do, at least most of the time, anyway.
 
If we allowed ourselves to be controlled by our more…animalistic appetites, well, let's just say it would be a little harder to keep our community a secret."
 
He spoke about this casually, almost as if he were discussing the weather.
 
"Oh, don't get me wrong, lads, we have our share of special meals, but we need to make sure that we keep a low profile.
 
The three of you are prime candidates, as it's fairly obvious nobody seems to know where you are."

They approached a large clearing past the outskirts of the village.
 
A large fire pit was built in the middle, and some of the villagers were busy decorating.
 
Others were bringing wood, and still others were setting up a dining area with table, chairs, and cooking equipment.

"Got a big feast planned tonight," said Ulf.
 
"Oh don't worry, you two won't be on the menu, though that baby sister of yours is gonna make a mighty fine appetizer."

Michael curled his hand into a fist.
 
Jumping up, he punched the large man surprisingly hard across his face.

"Ha, ha, ha.
 
That's the spirit lad," Ulf said with a smile as he spit a glob of blood onto the ground.
 
"Though you may want to be careful.
 
If you'd have cut your hand on one of my teeth, you might have had a nasty surprise during the next full moon.
 
Ah, here's the chief now."
 
He led them over to where Fenris was standing, speaking with a half dozen shabby looking children.
 
A small girl, who looked about six years old, growled at them suspiciously as they approached.

"Now, now, Mandy, is that the way we treat our guests?" Fenris said with a pat on her head.
 
She stood behind him, grasping his leg and glaring at the two strangers.

"Well boys, as you can see we're all quite excited about tonight's festivities.
 
You arrived at just the right time.
 
Course, you two will be safely locked away before it gets dark tonight, it's for your own protection."

Michael had been trying to think of anything that might help them escape.
 
He knew these people weren't fools, but he wondered if he could get on their good side; fool them into trusting him somehow.
 
He remembered that Fenris had spoken about the history of his people, and thought this might be a way to go about it.

"Um, Mr. MacFarlane," he said nervously.
 
"I was wondering, how is it that your people came to be this way?
 
I mean, have the MacFarlanes always been werewolves?"

Fenris raised his eyebrows; perhaps he wasn't expecting this sort of question.
 
The werewolf children looked up at him expectantly, as if they wanted an answer as well.

"Oh," he said, obviously caught off guard.
 
"Well, ah, there are stories about the founder of our clan.
 
My mother used to tell them to me when I was only a lit'le pup."
 
His eyes seemed to wander off to days gone by.
 
"Conan MacFarlane, who founded our pack, was a master thief.
 
He lived during the sixteenth century.
 
During one of his raids on a rich English nobleman, he obtained an ancient artifact, a magical staff, which he used to give his people the ability to change their shape.
 
This enabled 'em to take the form of wolves, creatures of the night with superhuman strength."