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THE SNOW BEAST OF THE MOUNTAIN
Torben
A high pitched whine alerts my attention that someone has come to my property.
Again.
I put down the pipette I’d been using to create the latest salves for my order. Each step in the intricate process is vitally delicate. A drop or two one way or the other could ruin an entire batch.
Who in the hell could this be now?
I tap into the surveillance feeds of the drones that fly around my property. I'm annoyed that there’s yet another notice of condemnation tacked to the manor door. My property is well outside their provincial town.
I’ll take it down eventually. But that’s not what triggered the alarm. There's someone in my greenhouse.
I tap the controls, and my golden drone zooms toward the glass enclosure I custom built for my flowers. Though the drone looks like a honey bee, that’s where the resemblance ends. A tiny weapon, there’s enough charge that it generates in its wings, it can deliver a jolt that can incapacitate any intruder until I can get to them.
I maneuver the little bug through a small hole in the threshold I installed for this purpose and let the drone go on autopilot once more so it can better mimic the flying patterns of insects. When it finally shows me who the intruder is, I let loose a riot of epithets.
I storm through the underground tunnels leading away from my laboratory and haul myself up to the metal ladder to the surface. The exit opens to the back room of the greenhouse where I grow my most temperamental specialty flowers.
And where my cousin, Jack, is pacing in his human form.
“What the hell are you doing here? And don’t touch those!”
Jack, who was hovering around the prized blooms, straightens to face me as soon as he hears me speak. He looks me over now. “Ah, so you are alive.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The hell I'm talking about is this notice I received.” He throws an open envelope at me, gaping with a thick fold of papers inside of it. “That came along with this box full of unopened junk mail.” He kicks a weathered box by his feet.
I ignore the box as I recognize a few of the envelopes inside. But a notice about my death?
I pull out the thick sheaf of papers from the envelope. Right on top is a certified death notice with my name printed on plain white paper.
“What is this? I'm not dead!”
“Well, isn't that a relief?” he deadpans. “Now, are you going to invite me into the house? Or shall I return home and let my mother come here to do her version of a wellness check instead?”
I'd rather be truly dead at that point. “Fine. But we’re going to have to go through the tunnels, unless you can finesse the door?” I wait for his answer.
Jack stands and blinks at me. Even his human disguise cannot mask the brewing irritation inside him, nor can it suppress the answering call of winter winds outside. “What did you do now?”
I shrug. “I think the house is mad at me. One too many explosions or something.”
Chemical burns. Out-of-control creeping vines that I barely contained. Noxious odors.
All shocking at the time, but none of those things created any lasting damage. Besides, the house is built from hardy wood from the old country. It’s not like anything on this side of the rift could harm it.
Jack flails his hands in exasperation. “One too many—you know what, it’s fine. Maybe I can sweet talk it into letting us in.”
In the end, we both had to come back to the greenhouse and use the tunnels to get back into the house, with Jack muttering under his breath each step of the way.
A flutter of gold whizzes around our heads a moment before the tea service wheels itself in. A cozy fire crackles in the hearth. At least the house still has manners toward guests, even if it refused to open its doors to Jack.
I hide my smile with my tea cup at the memory. “So, how is your mother? Your mate?” I feel it’s only polite to ask after the only good things Jack has in his life.
Jack, in his hybrid human-otso form, actually lights up speaking about his mate. “Zora is wonderful as always. Arctus and Rowan are keeping her entertained while I’m on this errand for Ma.”
