Chapter 14

Playing With Power

It was a bright warm day in May. The snow had all melted away and the forest was full of fresh new growth. Birds filled the forest with a myriad of sweet songs. Animals that had spent the winter in hibernation were now awake and feasting on the plentiful supply of new food that had appeared with the arrival of spring. New babies were being born every day to take advantage of the spring season. It was a time of rebirth and renewal. It was time for the world to shake off the icy grip of winter and begin anew.

Azazel failed to notice any of this. He was bored and hungry. So far he'd managed to survive on his own, but it was a close thing several times. There had been days when he'd had no food at all to eat. He'd fail to catch any fish, his traps would be empty, and he'd have no luck in stalking anything. Those were miserable times, but his luck would kick in just in the nick of time so that he wouldn't starve. And now that things were beginning to grow he might be able to find plants to eat. But now he had failed to find any edible plants and he hadn't caught anything in almost two days. He was sick of failure so he simply sat in his dim cave and sulked.

Beneath his hunger and boredom lurked a deep aching longing. It had been over two and a half months since he had been separated from Mystique and he missed her terribly. Every moment that he wasn't occupied he thought of her. He remembered her touch, her faint but alluring scent, and the sounds she made when he pleasured her. He remembered it all and it threatened to drive him mad sometimes. He didn't want to try hunting again today and fishing left him with too much time to think so what was there left for him to do?

Then a solution came to him. Anna had told him to explore his new abilities to learn his new limits. So far he had barely done any experimentation at all. The only things that he had learned about his new self was how to find his direction, how to move with his tail, and how to be stealthy. He'd been so focused on Mystique and survival that he hadn't thought about anything else. Now he could use his need for discovery to distract himself from his thoughts.

First he made a list of what he could do. He had night vision that turned night into day, though it was all in shades of gray. He could feel the earth's magnetic field in such detail that he could detect the smallest variations in it. His flexibility seemed to have magically increased allowing him to bend over backwards and tie himself into knots with minimal effort when before he couldn't touch his toes. Then there was his magical griping power. Sometimes he was able to scale the smooth trunks of trees in defiance of gravity. He'd even scampered down a tree face first like a squirrel without slipping or falling.

With that all figured out it was time to start exploring. He picked himself up off his bed and scampered out into the sunlight. He scuttled into a nearby clearing where the sun penetrated the dense forest canopy and paused. Was I just running on all fours like an animal? He wondered suddenly. Azazel looked down and found out to his surprise that he was crouched down on all four legs. What am I now, an animal? He thought bitterly to himself. And the worst part was the fact that he hadn't even realized that he was doing until just now. He had probably been running around like a beast since his transformation.

With a savage animal-like growl he stood up on two feet like a proper person. He shuddered in disgust at the sound that he'd made; it was another trait that proved to him that he was no longer human. His bitterness and irritation was only inflamed by his hunger and if he didn't do something about it he felt that he was going to snap. With another growl he began to stretch out seeing how many different ways he could contort his new body. After he almost got stuck he decided to quit that and do something else.

He decided to investigate his odd grip first. He wandered around until he found a nice tall tree with very few branches that were close to the ground. He began to climb it in the same way that he instinctively did every time he went up a tree trunk. Halfway to the first branch he stopped and examined his grip. The tips of his fingers and toes were pressed tightly against the tree's bark. The sensation he felt in the tips of his digits was a cross between a sort of static electricity and suction cups. Experimentally he tugged at one hand without releasing his grip and found that he couldn't. Unless he relaxed his fingers and toes there was no way any force on earth could pry him off.

Azazel scampered up the tree stopping only when the tree grew too thin to support his weight. From this superior vantage point he could see for several miles. Behind him he could see the Darkhölme estate and a sense of intense longing welled up in his chest. Before he could be overwhelmed he turned away and looked in the opposite direction. The day was so clear that far in the distance he could make out a blur of his old hometown of Winzeldorf. When he realized what it was he felt only bitterness. There was nothing left for him back there, no one, and nothing.

He looked away from the horizon and down at the surrounding trees. Several yards away he spotted a bare treetop of a recently deceased tree. He studied it for several moments before a crazy idea popped into his head. It was stupid, insane, and dangerous but he felt compelled to try it. So he shifted his grip and began to examine the distance. Then when he felt he was ready he let go of the tree and pushed off in a mighty leap. He had no idea if he could make the distance or not, but he felt that it was worth a try. What did he have to lose?

Thankfully he made it across. In fact, he almost over shot his goal. Once his breathing and heart-rate returned to normal he turned back and reassessed the distance. It was at least five yards away and this tree was only a yard lower than the tree that he had jumped from. Azazel was quite impressed with himself. It looked like he could add super jumps to his list of new abilities. After he added that point to his mental list he decided to practice it some more. And so he spent a good hour or so jumping from tree to tree like some sort of twisted red devil monkey.

At the end of that hour, however, he was worn out and a bit dizzy. So he slithered down the tree and began weaving his way back to his cave. He determined that he'd had enough for today. Perhaps after he ate a meal he would do more discovering, but now he needed to rest and conserve his energy. If he didn't he wouldn't have any left to get more food and without more food he wouldn't have the energy he needed to get through the next few days. And so rest was the course for him. Rest and fish.

Fishing required the minimal amount of energy in order to catch a decent amount of food. When he reached his cave he retrieved one of his most precious possessions. One of the things he'd asked Mystique for was a fishing rod and some rubber worms. Fortunately for him, the Count had been an avid fisherman and had a large collection of fishing poles. So when Azazel had spent time inside the mansion she let him pick what he wanted. He selected a small simple one that would satisfy his needs and he hoped wouldn't be missed if the old man ever decided to view his collection on some rainy day. With his pole all set; he slunk off to the nearby pond where he fished.

At the pond Azazel sank down onto a rock and cast out his line into a shadowy area near the opposite shore. Every few minutes he'd twitch the rod to give the illusion that the rubber worm on the hook was alive. And so the waiting game began. For hours he sat idle watching the red and white sphere wiggle and the sun creep through the sky. Aside from the song of birds and the buzzing of insects there was no sound. When the sun vanished from the sky leaving the world dark it was time for Azazel to go home. In all that time that he was fishing he caught only three small fish. But that was better than nothing so he couldn't complain.

Halfway back to his cave he stopped to clean the fish and bury the inedible entrails in the ground so no scavenging animals would come to his cave looking for them. Then he skewered the fish on a stick and carried them into the cave. There he started a fire and began to cook his fish dinner. Slowly the fish sizzled, charred, and steamed. They began to give off a mouth watering odor and it took all of Azazel's willpower to let the fish keep cooking. When they were done he devoured them so quickly and completely that there was barely any sign that they had ever existed.

While the fish didn't completely sate his hunger, it took more than the edge off of it. Feeling much better it was time for him to perform his nightly pilgrimage to Count Darkhölme's estate. Under the cover of night he made his way the two miles from his cave to the mansion. Normally he walked the whole way, but this time he decided to use his new climbing and tree jumping skills the get there. That way he'd leave no tracks on the ground for any curious hunters to find. And he also found it to be an enjoyable challenge to travel this way. Sometimes he was able to move so fast that he felt like he was flying.

In no time at all he reached his customary tree, the same one he sat in every night as he waited in vain for the colored handkerchief to appear and call him over. He crouched mutely on his favorite branch and waited. He kept time by swinging his tail like a pendulum, one second in each direction. After ten minutes of this his time was up. If he didn't leave now he probably wouldn't be able to make himself leave until the sun came up. With a sigh of disappointment he looked away from the massive house and prepared himself to return to his humble cave.

He could picture it now. He could see the dome-like ceiling with the scattered pinholes of faint light. He could see the packed earth floor. He could see his fire pit in the center of his floor. He could see his pile of meager possessions, his now empty basket, his pile of blankets and spare clothes, and his few cooking and eating utensils, as they sat in their corner. He could see his crude pile of bedding. He could almost sense the unique magnetic field of his cave. And then something odd happened in his brain. It felt like there were two wires in his head that were struggling to form a connection. As he focused on his home, thinking about being there, they suddenly met.

Suddenly he wasn't sitting in the tree anymore. He was speeding everywhere and nowhere. He spun end over end, round and round, and inside out. There was a flash of heat and an odd smell, like smoky rotten eggs. Then it stopped and he hit the ground. For a few minutes he simply laid there and wondered if he'd had some sort of vision or hallucination and fallen out of the tree. Then he looked around and realized that he was back in his cave. Azazel blinked rapidly in confusion. How did he get here? All he'd done was think of this place and somehow he was here. He couldn't understand it. It made no sense. It shouldn't be possible.

Then he remembered something. On the night when he changed from a boy into an odd red furry creature this exact same thing had happened. In his haze of pain and confusion he'd thought of that one clearing that had been in his dream. Then he'd had that same sensation and passed out. When he woke up here was in the clearing just like how he'd just appeared in his cave. He'd moved himself just by focusing on the place he wanted to be. Now that was an interesting and useful ability. It reminded him of some term he'd seen in a science fiction book that had been hidden in the back of Winzeldorf's bookstore. He could teleport!

But now he wondered how far he could go. Azazel picked himself up off the cave floor and scampered out of the cave forgetting that he was running on all fours again. He perched on a nearby log and began to think. Where should he try to go? He decided to try for that clearing, it should be far enough away from Winzeldorf to be safe and he'd traveled there once before. So he visualized it and focused on it, trying to form that same connection in his head as before. It took longer than before, and somehow it felt different, wrong somehow. And when he was sent flying it hurt.

When he reappeared he was upside-down and tangled in a tree. He was nowhere near where he wanted to be. Azazel frowned, what went wrong? He hung there by his feet and tail and thought for a while. The only possible thing that he could come up with was that the clearing was just too far away from his target. He righted himself and climbed up to the top of the tree and tried to get his bearings. As far as he could tell he'd only made it two miles away in the direction of his clearing. So it seemed the limit of his range was two miles. Verdammt, there goes my idea to teleport to Fiji.

With a sigh he focused on making short two mile jumps toward his goal. He wanted to go there and he would get there no matter how long it took him. So after a few more jumps he made it. By this time his landings had improved to the point where he didn't land flat on his face, now he appeared a foot or so above to ground so that he could land on his feet. Now he looked around, his sharp glowing golden eyes picking up every detail. Everything looked exactly how he expected it to, except for one spot. There was a foreign shape poking out from under a bush.

Cautiously he crept over for a closer examination. It was a basket, slightly larger than the one that Mystique would leave for him. Inside he found several cans of condensed soup, a loaf of bread, and a package of crackers. Beneath the layer of food he found a raincoat and a piece of an old tarp. And beneath that he found a picture frame. In it there was a recent picture of him and Wolfie taken only a few days before his nightmares began. They both had silly grins on their youthful care-free faces as they enjoyed the last day of summer. He almost broke down into tears at the sight of it and he knew exactly who left these things for him. Danke schön Anna, danke.