Chapter Five

I find it amusing that, no matter how much tensions rise in our small group, Scruffy is always there to play the ignorant fool. Hugo laughs quietly to himself, patting his beast on the rump.

"Get up, you drama queen," he scolds playfully, kicking at Scruffy's legs. "If you were watching the road ahead of you, you wouldn't have fallen."

Scruffy bays mournfully, staggering to his feet, coppery eyes wide. Tears glint in the watery surface, and his pathetic whimpers are heartrending. With exaggerated difficulty, the wolf rises, slender legs unfolding. His paws seem to barely rise from the soft dirt coating the path. Ears drooping, Scruffy limps back to the center of the path, plush tail hanging low.

"Aw, buddy," whines Hugo, falling into step beside his beast, "I didn't mean it. You're the best big wolf thing ever."

As soon as the apology leaves Hugo's mouth, I feel the rapid shift of attitude in the wolf's aura. Scruffy swings his head around and slams it into Hugo's chest. He loses his balance with a surprised oof, and Scruffy sends the boy tumbling down the very same slope he had tripped over. As Hugo rolls down the slope, desperately grappling for underbrush to hold, the leaves hiss and swirl in his trail. Even Raffe pauses to watch Hugo's humiliation. The wolf's howls acutely resemble the laughter issued from both Ogden's lips as well as my own, and his prancing gait seems to taunt Hugo.

Cursing colorfully but with lively spirit dancing in his eyes, Hugo brushes the leaves from his shoulders and bowls up the hill. Upon realization, Scruffy attempts to dash away with the speed I know he can, but the pack strapped to his saddle hinders any swift retreat. Hugo tackles his wolf, and they both go flying down the other side of the ridge in a bundle of fur and skin.

Ogden shakes his head and assumes the front position, marching ahead with a steady beat. Glancing down at the pack-wolf and the navigator tussling on the ground like children, I follow half a beat after, nudging Paige gently along with me. She smiles at Scruffy and Hugo, but she makes no attempt to join in with their tussling. Pain tightens her expression.

I rub Paige's shoulders worriedly. With much coaxing, she'd taken a few bites of rabbit last night – meager spoonfuls, and each was gulped down quickly, as if the taste was unbearable. So far, she'd been able to keep it down – but her hunger could not have been so easily satisfied. With each minute that passes, each slow minute slipping past like thick honey gradually dribbling down, the more anxious I become to find this Bryon and soon after, a doctor. Not just any doctor, but a doctor who can save Paige, and maybe fix Raffe's wings.

Raffe tails the group, his breath practically at my neck. If anyone should attempt to jump us from behind, I don't think they'll be very pleased with their results. With the mood Hugo has riled him up into, I doubt that he'll be crushed by their appearance.

The alignment before two positions had vacated made considerable sense; first, it's Scruffy, the most qualified to pick out any ambushers or wild animals that might pose a threat – I'd assumed he'd just cower instead of actually attacking, which would be enough incentive that something nasty is lurking, but earlier, he'd viciously gone after a bobcat hiding beneath the brush at the side of the path. The cat's yowls of pain mixing with Scruffy's furious snarls had haunted Paige to the extent that I'd clapped my hands over her ears to muffle it as best possible.

After Scruffy comes Hugo, to guide the wolf and the group. Paige is still sandwiched between Ogden and I – Pooky Bear and Ogden's hammer should be sufficient to put an end to any attack targeting my little girl.

So far, our little trip has been rather uneventful – aside for the scintillating banter of Hugo and Raffe, Hugo and Scruffy, and Hugo and Hugo, nothing had been all that entertaining. So I'd taken it upon myself to admire the California wilderness.

Golden sunlight trickles in through the mottled pattern of leaves and needles swaying overhead. The designs sway hypnotically over the speckled brown and topaz ground at the slightest breeze, trees themselves rocking to the wind's will. Rocks and crisp mountain streams pepper the forest, oftentimes going hand in hand. I don't need to dip a finger into the water to know that it's ice cold, still frozen by the chill of the previous night. More than once, we'd passed overhead of a herd of mule deer, travelling along a ridge or something.

Just once, we'd passed a white creature. Ogden had gotten extremely excited upon seeing it, jabbing a finger at the strange four-legged animal, but, frightened by the sudden movement, it had galloped swiftly off.

"Hey, Ogden?"

The old man cocks his head to me, friendly eyes goading me to continue my inquiry.

"How much longer until we get to rest? I think Paige is hungry." I place a hand over Paige's head, brushing her hair away from her face.

Ogden's eyes soften. He smiles gently at Paige, slowing his walk slightly. Holding true to their word, both he and Hugo had been remarkably accepting of Paige. They'd treated her more civilly than I had, initially. I suppose working with Seraphim and whatever else Hugo had listed softens them slightly to strange creatures, but they hadn't shied from her touch or her company in the slightest. In fact, Hugo had even gone so far as to teach Paige a hand game while Ogden had been preparing rabbit.

Ogden holds up his hands in a fair distance apart, then gestures elaborately towards the horizon. I don't quite perceive his meaning, but I nod my head in understanding all the same.

Raffe's voice sounds from behind me. "If she really is hungry, we can stop now," he offers. "A few miles won't hurt anything."

Ogden flinches. He eyes the surrounding forest and shakes his head rigorously, waving both hands to signify a negative response. The wariness furrowing his brow catches my attention for the first time.

"Why not?" My curiosity is almost as potent an enemy as my bluntness. "I mean, not that I'm being rude and insisting or anything. I'm just wondering what's up with this area."

Ogden lifts his fingers to his mouth like fangs and snarls. His gait turns hulking, and he stomps a few paces before dropping the façade.

"A monster's territory?" verifies Raffe, voice hardening into stone.

Ogden nods his confirmation.

"Then why are Scruffy and Hugo acting like nuts?" I wonder, lip curling. "We should get out of here as soon as possible."

"'Nuts' is harsh." Hugo appears beside me, his lower lip stuck out. "I prefer the term mentally challenged."

I jump out of my skin at his sudden appearance. Judging by the sudden skitter in Raffe's audible footsteps behind me, he'd been taken off guard as well.

"Where did you come from?" I exhale, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers. "Weren't you just off doing something?"

"I was," he consents, "but now I'm back. Caught you by surprise, didn't I? Hah. Remember, I taught Dee-Dum everything they know. I'm like Papa Bird, and they're the little chicklets doing their little chicklet things." He blinks, brow scrunching. "Is 'chicklet' a gender specific term? Hope not."

"Oh, well, I'm not sure." From my arms, Paige shakes her head in bafflement. Ogden shrugs. Raffe remains silent, aside from a quiet threat issued not to Hugo, but to Scruffy: "If you lick the side of my face one more time you will wish you were battling a demon…"

"If you lay a hand on him, you will wish you were battling all the angelic armies at once." Hugo's coppery glare is fierce, his teeth peeking through his lips.

"Then tell your mutt to leave me alone."

Hugo holds up his hands. "He got a taste of your holy face this morning, mister, and he got addicted. I almost feel sorry for releasing him, but, you know, I've never heard anyone snore so loud befpre, and you had poor Penryn pinned against you." Hugo's smile is wolfish. "I've never seen someone look so explicitly uncomfortable in my life! So of course I sent Scruffy after you. Nothing else would work."

My face burns, flushing red. Although both Ogden and Hugo have full visibility of my king of blushes, I'm glad that Raffe does not. He, however, does not utter another word. Hugo's coppery red eyes sharpen, his face changing, perhaps to analyze the situation. But before I can catch his calculating expression, it melts away into his usual cheer.

After a minute of awkward silence, Hugo cries, "I know! I must banish this awkward oddness between us! How about a friendly icebreaking game of 'Two Truths and a Lie'?"

"What?" Raffe's tone is flat.

"It's a game," I explain indifferently, glancing back at Raffe. "Basically, it's just as the title says. You give out two truths about yourself and one lie. The goal of the game is to make it clever, so that the other people don't guess the lie. If you're trying to guess, you think long and hard about the person."

"Oh." Raffe falls silent. "I won't disgrace all of you by going first. Instead, Penryn, you go. Should be a nice confidence booster for the rest of us."

"Is that a challenge?" I cock my eyebrows at him. "Well, hmm. Let me think." Even Ogden turns to me expectantly. Rolling my eyes up to the sky, I hum as I scrape up a few thoughts.

"Okay, here goes." With a deep breath, I begin. "I prefer dry spaghetti over cat food, I think that dogs are better than cats" – Scruffy woofs deeply in apparent approval – "and I've seen a total of fifteen female angels in all."

Ogden whistles softly and turns to the trail ahead, skidding down the steep path and disregarding the icebreaking game. He proudly walks several strides ahead of the rest of the group, his attention sliding to the surrounding forests.

Raffe's voice is puzzled. "I'm going to have to go with the first one."

Paige lifts up two fingers with her vote.

"It doesn't seem very likely to me that you'd count the number of female angels you've seen." Hugo smirks confidently. "I'll go with the last option, thanks."

"Well, Hugo knows me better than the angel I've been travelling with for far longer or my little sister." The glower playing teasingly over my face is evenly distributed between the two of them. "Raffe, dry spaghetti will always be better than cat food."

"Yeah, Raffe," Hugo scolds. "Step up to the plate. Learn how to read a woman."

"You're homosexual," Raffe scoffs. "You practically are a woman."

I slam on the brakes, my viselike grip around Paige's hand only tightening. Pivoting on one foot, I twirl to face him, meeting his gaze without quavering. A candid blend of disappointment and rage saturates my tone and narrows my eyes. "Raffe!" I bark sharply.

"Nah, Penryn, it's cool," Hugo dismisses in a nonchalant voice. "It's not like I won't take my revenge."

And he does seem relaxed, aside from the wolfish grin he wears. Beside him, Scruffy bears all his fangs in a smile as well, but his wears the hostility of a threat rather than a joke. Hugo runs his hand through Scruffy's mane in consolation, but the wolf keeps his coppery gaze locked onto Raffe. My alarm bells rattle as the wolf drops his head.

"Excuse him," apologizes Hugo, pulling at Hugo's cheek fur. "He smelled the spike of intense hatred in my veins, and he reacted accordingly. How about I do the next one?"

"Knock yourself out," snaps Raffe. If I were to judge by the acid in his statement alone, I would guess that Raffe's words do not wander far from his true intentions. Stuck between the wolf and demon, I feel vulnerable, and I clutch a little tighter onto Paige's hand.

Hugo scratches his chin, the humor in his eyes returning. "Hmm. Well. My favorite color is blue, for starters. I have slightly telepathic abilities. I have touched Hellfire and survived. Go."

"Hellfire," answers Raffe immediately with grim certainty. "No one can escape that. The only strength of a human is its mind – I don't have a clue what the gifted members of your society may be able to do with telepathy."

Hugo's eyes twinkle, not giving away a scrap of knowledge.

"Telepathy," I estimate. "I've seen enough busts of so-called magic and mumbo jumbo that it's out of the question. As Raffe has just pointed out, humans are pretty goddamn smart – I bet you found a way to stay alive."

Paige holds up a two again.

Ogden grins and turns, holding up a number one.

"Ogden's right!" cries Hugo. "But I suppose that's not fair, because he knows me so well. My favorite color is orange, not blue. I rock the socks off this game. You wanna go next, Raffe?"

"You're telepathic?" I explode, eyes round.

Hugo shrugs. "Slightly. It mostly happens when I'm dreaming – I get little memories of people I've been around for a bit, and beings like Seraphim and occasionally Ogden" – he bows mockingly to the old man – "sometimes talk in my mind. It's pretty neat."

"Hellfire?" wonders Raffe.

Scruffy's lope pauses, his muzzle swinging about to face his master. Hugo's step falters, as if he'd tripped over an imaginary fault in the path. The shaky reediness in his voice is unfamiliar, seemingly unacquainted with Hugo's friendly tones.

"My big brother absorbed it from me." Hugo's voice cracks. "I got burned because I couldn't run fast enough. Damn, Ivan was always so fast. Could've made it out if it hadn't had been for me." His shoulders square, quavering voice solidifying into cold stone. "But the past is the past, and that was a long time ago."

"It would have left you with burns." Raffe's quiet voice is seasoned with fresh respect. "No matter who absorbed it."

"They ache ever night," Hugo acknowledges with a hesitant nod of his head. "But I've gotten used to them. They're nothing like Ogden's burns or anything, so it's cool."

Ogden's shoulders clench slightly, but he raises his head high and scales an upcoming hill.

"Ogden, you're burned?" I question curiously.

"Yep." Hugo nods in confirmation. "Pretty severely, over most of his body. That's why he wears long sleeves and everything. We stick to the cooler portions of the world during the summer so he never has to do anything that makes him uncomfortable."

"That's terrible," I whisper, true sympathy wrenching my heart violently at the thought of burns beneath those steampunk clothes on the innocent old man. "How did it happen?"

Hugo's face scrunches oddly. "Long story short: he collapsed through the roof of a burning house and was trapped inside."

"Where is he?" Hugo murmurs to Ogden, gaze flicking nervously over the horizon. "Goddamnit, you can't trust Bryon, can you? He's probably frolicking over…"

Hugo breaks off as Ogden jams a finger at the ghost of a white horse galloping through the woods, slender silver limbs quickly hidden by the leafy branches of the forest. A smile tugs at his lips.

"You're right," Hugo whispers. "He's close."

"Stop yodeling, or whatever sick yowling you're doing," Raffe snaps. His attitude has only deteriorated with each moment spent around the clever Hugo. "You sound like a hollow stick hitting a snake repeatedly."

We'd settled down what seems like hours before, just as the first paint of the evening light began to color the sky. Scruffy had been weary – although the wolf acts spritely beneath the heavy packs, Hugo had explained that his mutt needs as much sleep as anything else, and that standing guard all night doesn't grant him much of it. Paige, too, had started to get anxious, gnashing her teeth together. The metal clicked against the bone in a chilling rhythm, one that had swiftly gained passage to the darker corridors of my morbid imagination.

The area Ogden had selected at the end of the day's march is nearly perfect – I despise the open feel to lounging about in the open woods, and even the high vantage point he'd discovered can't really clear me of any grief. Hugo had erected a rather comfortable habitat, though. The packs of miscellaneous items are strewn about the clearing, forming sofas and benches wherever you may need them, excepting, of course, his stack of valuables. Logs dragged by Raffe from the heart of the woods are angled around a ring of stones and dry wood waiting to be set ablaze the moment the sun dips below the horizon.

Ogden sits hesitantly next to Raffe, casting nervous glances towards the angel. The two of them are both so large they dominate even the largest log. Paige kicks her feet at a stone, volleying it back and forth beside me. Hugo does not sit upon a log, rather resting against it, legs crossed and guitar cradled in his lap. Scruffy sniffs up and down his neck, the wolf's head drowsily lain against the log as a stiff pillow. He seems lulled by Hugo's melody, lids drooping over his eyes. The wolf's tail twitches in the ghost of a content wag.

Hugo grins and strums a teasing chord on his guitar-type thing, the evening light bathing his face in purple. "You're right. It's obviously time for a change in musicians. Since you're so skulky, how about you sing us a song." He twists from the guitar strap, gingerly holding the intricately decorated instrument out to Raffe. "Go ahead, cheer up Paige, put a smile on Penryn's face, let Scruffy bounce to the beat."

Raffe scowls. "Put the guitar away and stop chanting your country diddles."

Hugo's eyebrow cocks. "They're folk songs, lullabies, and camp songs, pigeon-bat. But if you can't comprehend simple music genres, well, your loss. Scruffy can sing better than you, anyway. Ain't that right, Scruffy, boy?"

Adoration consumes Hugo's face, as if he is oblivious to the rising tension that has swamped my lighthearted mood. He rubs a finger beneath Scruffy's chin as the wolf lifts its head, cinnamon fur bouncing as he howls out a single note. The howl is distinctively lupine, a set of wild bays to the dying sun that carry no rhythm or tune. Scruffy's wolfsong echoes off the mountains.

"Shut him up," orders Raffe, back straightening from his miserable slouch. "Everyone can hear us."

"Correction: everyone can hear a wolflike demon scrounging rabidly through the woods, howling to the moon with its thirst for blood." Hugo grins broadly. "I have no idea how he can be so scary. I mean, sure, some other wolves are scary, but not that scary."

Scruffy lets loose a low yowl that turns into a playful growl. Wet nose quivering, he first nuzzles Hugo's wild hair and then nips at a strand, pulling in a jibe to gain Hugo's attention. Responding by stroking Scruffy's head calmly, Hugo rocks his companion from side to side.

"Silly Scruffy," he murmurs. "You probably think you can talk, don't you?"

A laugh blossoms from somewhere hidden within at Scruffy's reaction. "That is the most indignant looking wolf I've ever seen in my life."

Scruffy's gaze turns to me, all thoughts of slumber gone. He growls in a challenge and then mewls out something that sounds vaguely like a baby's bawl.

"Not bad," estimates Hugo, leaning away from his pet to study him. "Sounded a bit like a human. I'll give it a five out of ten. But here's the question: can Penryn trump the score?"

Scruffy yips in defiance, rolling his eyes madly in protest with his score. But he, too, stares at me curiously. Teasing joy glints in Hugo's eyes. Childish delight consumes Ogden's face, bringing his swollen features into an expression of joyous expectation. Raffe's disapproval is palpable in the air. Paige, though, claps her hands and smiles at me, her lips pinching in the pain.

"Let me get this straight," I verify, glaring at Hugo. Hope blossoms in my chest, a prayer that my negativity will crush this competition. "You want me to bark like a dog?"

Scruffy woofs as an example, nodding in harmony with Hugo.

My cheeks flush bright red. Hesitation makes the moment longer, draws more attention to me. The arrogance in Raffe's gaze is nearly as powerful as Paige's round, round eyes. She clutches at my knee, tilting her head to one side and smiling in encouragement.

"I'm going to hate myself," I sigh, but, without pause, I give my best bark.

For a moment, there's painful silence.

Scruffy throws up his head in a high-pitched howl. He rises from the earth, staggering about drunkenly, nearly smashing into Hugo's pile of breakables. His howls of amusement seem to chorus through the woods like an entire pack of wolves. Ogden, who'd raised his hands and clapped a single beat, pauses and furrows his brow.

"I didn't think it was that bad," states Hugo mildly, watching as his mutt nearly thuds into a tree. "Apparently, you've cussed in Wolf or something, though. Wouldn't worry about it too much."

Scruffy's chuckles are ended rather abruptly by a howl, echoing off the snow-capped mountains eerily. He stiffens, ears swiveling in its direction and nostrils flaring, eyes wide with anticipation. The wolf's legs quiver slightly. The camp falls still until the high, crystalline note sailing above the trees cuts off.

"What was that?" growls Raffe, his voice like a peal of thunder.

"Just Scruffy's girlfriend," Hugo laughs, waving it aside. "Now, Jane, as we call her, she's one to look out for. She doesn't have his long legs, but wings – kinda like an angel wolf. But she doesn't ever, ever side with angels. That reminds me – Raffe, if you see a white figure loping through the woods, don't even give Jane an inkling that you're angelic and not fallen."

"You're telling me Scruffy's got a girlfriend," I scoff, shaking my head. "He's a wolf."

Hugo grins. "I suppose he likes it doggy style, then." Catching my angry glance towards Paige and the daggers in my gaze as it fixes on him, he hurriedly changes the subject, rising from the log and turning to Hugo.

"Now, buddy, remember," Hugo lectures importantly, waggling a finger at the wolf, "be a gentleman. Nobody likes a Butler."

"What?" I whisper to Ogden. He shrugs.

"Also, if you kiss her for the first time, do not, I repeat, do not, look her in the eyes and tell her that you don't even like her." Hugo slams his finger twice into Scruffy's nose. "To tell her that you don't like her is destroying all your chances. You'll probably create an enemy out of some badass grandma or uncle or something hanging around in the shadows. Now, get out of here!"

My knees feel weak; instantly, I'm grateful for the log Raffe had pulled up. Heat, awful heat, flushes my cheeks. My hand knots in Paige's shirt, clenching painfully, nails biting through the fabric and into my palm. "How do you know that?" I whisper, not trusting myself a glance in Raffe's direction, though I do feel his gaze land upon me several times.

Initially, Hugo ignores the question, slapping Scruffy's rear to quicken his exit, adding a sexual jeer as the wolf hurriedly lopes into the shadows of the darkening dusky forest. But when he turns to me, his smile is sly as the fox.

"I didn't." He saunters over to the log, crossing his legs and cradling that steampunk guitar of his. One hand weaving over the strings, he glances up at me through his lashes. "I've only heard rumors, heard things one angel thought he'd seen, something a kitchen staff member witness, a snippet of a conversation riding on the ears of a slut. It's only up to the clever monkey to piece it all together, to create a masterpiece with the puzzle."

"How many times have you manipulated us into giving you an answer?" demands Raffe, the brutal intelligence of a warrior chiseling his face into dark, stony rage.

Hugo's eyes roll up to the ceiling, mouthing numbers. The clever dance of the flecks in his irises displays his inner emotion. "Not that many. There's not much I care to know from you two, honestly. The fewer people that are aware of Penryn's plan to save the world, the better. The fewer people around that are connected to Raffe's inexplicable wing dilemma, the better. But I do love myself a good case of gossip." He winks, lashes brushing his cheekbones. "And I have not thus far been disappointed."

Bum bum bum.

First thing's first: I'm going on a camping trip this weekend, which means I won't be uploading any chapters, or even working on writing. It also means that I've had limited time to polish this chapter – there may be a few errors or odd sentences flows, but I wanted to get it out before I left. I love getting your reviews, so, if anything, only write more of them while I'm gone! Even if I don't respond in any way, I do read them and appreciate each one.

POLL: Bryon has been mentioned sparingly… but he's about to saunter up to bat. Thoughts?

Ciao,

~wolfluvermh