Guardian Hound Read Free Page B

used. He carefully lifted the pot off the table and set it on the stove. When the lard melted, Hans stirred it, not letting it boil. Once all the leaves were softened, he strained the liquid, carefully measuring out two cups of it, then adding fresh herbs to the liquid.
    Now, for the final steps. Hans reheated the other potions, muttering more than one spell as he cooked and combined ingredients, ending with the liquid from the thorn apples.
    Twilight had come and gone, and true night was setting in by the time Hans was ready. The Kraftsuppe smelled sour and bitter. He curled his lips back as he lifted it, stopping himself from taking a step away from it.
    Even his hound soul wasn’t sure this was a good idea.
    Hans put down the bowl and walked over the window, looking out over what he could see of the garden, his hound soul looming closer. They both missed the country, so much.
    He could never tell Father, but if they’d stayed, he would have applied as a teacher’s aid. Not for Gymnasium , no, but for the little ones. In his dreams, Hans saw himself leading them through the green grass near the one-room school, a daisy chain of little lights, laughing at his clumsiness and marveling at how many things he could smell.
    But Father never would have allowed it. Playing with children all day wasn’t a worthwhile occupation for someone of the hound clan.
    With a sigh, Hans turned from the window, walked back to the table, and lifted the bowl. With his hound soul at his side, he opened his mouth and poured down the potion.
    The vile, foul potion gushed over his tongue, making him gag. It stank worse than anything Hans had ever smelled before, even the bloated duck corpse he’d found in the marshes. He forced himself to swallow, coughing, his eyes watering. Then he drank some more. His hands shook with the effort of keeping the revolting liquid down, but Hans persisted.
    Before Hans could fetch himself a glass of water to wash out the taste of burnt hair and rancid oil, the world tilted to the side. Hans felt drunk all at once.
    This wasn’t right. According to Grandpapa’s notes, a slow tide of awareness should rise through him.
    What had he done wrong?
    Hans raced to the open book, forcing his eyes to focus.
    He’d done everything right. Made all the secondary potions correct. Then he’d mixed—
    Hans sighed. He’d reversed the amounts of two of the potions, and had ended up doubling the amount of the thorn apple liquid.
    Darkness approached from all sides. Hans whined, but it was too late.
    The door opened, and Hans fell through.
    # # #
    Hans stood under a gray cloud-filled sky. An angry sun burned at the horizon. Everything smelled dead, like dust from an ancient tomb. Nothing grew here as far as he could see in any direction—the land ran flat to the horizon, full of ashes.
    Yet Hans knew he wasn’t alone. Something pressed at him, first from one side, then the other. He couldn’t see what it was, but he knew something was there.
    When Hans poked at his hound soul, he screamed, a thin call that bled quickly away.
    His hound soul was wreathed in shadows, black formless things that surrounded the basset hound, stinging his sensitive nose and pricking his shoulder, back, paws—everywhere.
    â€œStop!” Hans called, but there was nothing to hear him.
    Now, shadows formed around Hans as well. Or maybe they’d been there all along, and only now could he see them, give them a name.
    They wanted in. They wanted him. They wanted his life, his breath, his vision.
    And they wanted out.
    The shadows were trapped here, on this dead planet, a planet they’d killed.
    They were parasites, with no life of their own. They needed the lives of others so they could continue to exist. They were dying, here, starting to eat one another.
    They showed Hans the magic he’d be able to do with their help, such as confusing the minds of people like Master Koenig, so he’d