Page 63 of The Inheritance
The air was stale and stank of old urine mixed with a harsh odor that reminded me of burned plastic.
I walked into the cave side by side with Bear. She sniffed the air currents and bared the edge of her teeth. Yeah. Right there with you.
The cave was empty. I’d hidden the dial in my backpack. I was pretty sure I could reset it, and a portable impenetrable barrier might come in handy.
We reached the far wall. A dead end on the right, a dark passage leading off to the left. We turned left, then right, through a short hallway, and walked into a small room. A light source glowed on the wall, an apple-sized crystal shining with weak yellow light and wavering almost like a torch. It was on its last legs.
Below the light, a creature lay tied to the wall by some sort of metal cord attached to a collar around its neck. It was probably around three and a half to four feet long and sheathed in thick grey fur. A fluffy tail the color of smoke curled around it, hiding most of the animal from view. All I could see were large triangular ears, tipped by tufts of bright red fur like those of a lynx.
A low snarl rumbled in Bear’s mouth.
“Shh,” I told her.
Was this a pet? A guard dog equivalent? If so, what was it guarding? There was nothing in the room.
The creature’s ears had ragged edges as if something was violently torn out of them. Dried blood caked on the rims. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been treated well.
I flexed. The beast was alive and breathing, but my talent didn’t tell me anything more and the gem stayed silent, too.
I took a careful step forward. Another.
The animal lay still. That wasn’t normal. It had to have heard me. Those ears weren’t just for show. It was deliberately choosing to ignore my approach.
Another step.
One more.
The fox-thing lunged at me. It was lightning fast, but I expected it and shied away. Dark claws raked the air an inch in front of me, so close they fanned my face. The collar jerked the fox back.
Bear shot forward.
“Stop!”
Bear halted.
“Back!”
Bear snarled, clicking her teeth, but didn’t move forward.
The fox bared sharp fangs, the chain on its collar taut.
“Back, Bear.”
The shepherd backpedaled until she was one step behind me.
“Good girl. Sit.”
Bear sat, but she really didn’t want to.
The fox creature retreated to the wall and crouched. It walked on two feet and when it lowered itself, it didn’t sit on its haunches. It crouched like a person, like someone used to bipedal locomotion.
A caravan of raccoon-foxes, donkeys, some alien being wrapped in rags, bemoaning its fate… I’d seen its kind before in a vision. Their fur was of a different color, and they wore clothes, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Same species. The leave-you-in-financial-ruin guys.
The fox-thing watched me with big golden eyes. It would be adorably cute, if it wasn’t in such a terrible state. Blood had dried into crust on its chest. Long scars covered its arms. Something or more likely someone had either beaten or tortured it.
The room was empty except for the dying light and the prisoner. No water. No food. No containers indicating that any of that was ever delivered. The fox was chained here and left to die.
And it could see the way out. The light illuminated the passageway behind me. There was no door on the cell. It looked like the exit out was right there, just a few yards away. The fox would watch the light on the wall as it wavered and grew dimmer and dimmer and realize it was a metaphor for its life. Soon the light would die, leaving the cell in the dark, and the fox would die with it, fading from hunger and thirst.
