Howling Bonds

2

Emilia screamed in disbelief. Nothing could convince her to stay put while strange noises filled the air outside their small town. No matter her father’s attempts to keep her safe in her bedroom, she tried to break free and uncover the truth behind the odd circumstances. But, after much pleadings and assurances, she stayed put as her dad shut and locked the door, remaining vigil beside her.

At this hour, Daddy would tell her stories—the same ones his own father had told him. Tales of magical lands, foolish princes, sea monsters, and Tengu, a celestial dog with three mystical eyes that spat out ten burning suns.

But Emilia was not tuning in tonight; no legends of heroes or distant kingdoms could assuage her pain now. Instead, her eyes drooped as she drifted into sleep, and in her dreams she felt only sorrow.

She woke with tears streaming down her cheek and aching sorrow filling her heart. Emilia’s mother had yet to come home, leaving her feeling abandoned and terrified.

Despite the many stories her dad came up with over the years, working to give his daughter hope, Emilia never believed them. That day, Emilia lay in bed until she rose and readied herself for school. From then on, Emilia ceased to enquire about her mother’s whereabouts, though it did not mean it left her mind.

She asked all her tutors and peers in primary school, and as she grew older, Emilia repeated her questions in high school. She scoured every corner of Eben, knowing it as well as her own garden. Her father, Mr. Richard, may have given up, but Emilia would not. Each night before retiring, she peered out the window with anticipation; hoping that one day, she would find her mom returning home.

CHAPTER 1

EMILIA

"T

he consensus of all social media and public opinion is we all owe too much debt from the past few years. Now it's time to pay it off."

This was the only line that made me laugh out loud during the entire workday. Everyone had endured too much pain over the past few years, including unemployment, inflation, college graduates who couldn't find jobs, wandering around an avalanche of credit card bills. I was living in Tacoma on a small paycheck, writing simple code for some company that made mobile games. It sucked, but it already made me look like a survivor of the Great Escape.

My roommate, Lydia, lost her job and is now working as a freelance designer. Lydia sometimes said she wanted to go home to a place sounding like some obscure town. I didn't want that. It would kill me to go back to Eben.

I walked through the streets, the giant garbage cans and walls painted with colorful graffiti. While the homeless behind those cans were silent and mournful, rummaging for bread and Coke cans. The street drizzled with laughter, white smoke flowed, and cars on the road surged through the night like bullet casings, leaving behind squares of red and yellow. Late spring lethargy, roasted m*******a, and burned tires scented the air. I pressed off my phone and turned to walk into my apartment as the light disappeared and the city's music played.

"Good morning." Lydia opened the door covered in a colorful gypsy blanket, hair tousled, huge black-framed glasses, and big, dark eyes. "The dishwasher isn't working, and a light fell from the bathroom ceiling, smashing a hole in the bathtub. I called the apartment manager, but they said they didn't give a s**t about the dishwasher."

Foam seeped out of the used dishwasher I'd bought when I arrived in the city. I went and checked it, finding a torn drain hose, the motor burned out, and half of the components inside broken. It seemed hopeless this time, and I took it to the recycling center.

When I got back to the apartment, Lydia was mopping the floor. "I've always wondered how you did it," she said out of the blue. "They say a werewolf attacked someone at Bellevue Botanical Garden, but I'm not worried about you at all. You can quell them with your unarmed hands."

"If you had lived in Eben for seventeen years on your own, you could have done it, too. But It's a muggle world, Lydia." I hung my bag on the hanger and sat on the couch, examining Lydia's pretty tea set. Lydia read tea leaves. "There are no werewolves in this world. It's just an old superstition."

"I'm afraid people will agree with me this time." Lydia pulled out her phone and displayed an internet forum titled—T-Mobile Manager Bitten By Werewolf. The posts kept coming, and there were heated debates from people inciting conspiracy theories, from lizard people to Trump's spy status. "Look at this video. It's about the Bellevue werewolf incident. It already has 30,000 likes."

I couldn't help but laugh. "This video of 'Long-COVID Patients Turning into Walkers' has even more likes. You don't think that's true, do you?"

"Of course I don't believe it." Lydia's voice sounded urgent. "But this time it's different, Emilia. The werewolf has appeared to us, right in Tacoma. Look at this video…"

Lydia showed me a new video of a man falling to the ground, wailing in pain. He had a broken arm, blood on his face, and torn clothes. A few passersby held up cell phones as two teenagers whispered, discussing the werewolf as an ambulance carried him away.

"That is downstairs from my office." I shook my head, relieved, but my heart sank. "It's a pity that this isn't our game producer."

"If I were you, I'd take tomorrow off," Lydia cautioned. "What if you're the next person targeted by a werewolf?"

"I'm far more worried about the card check and rent than a werewolf. Plus, I'd like to switch to an apartment that at least comes with a dishwasher." I picked up my cup of tea, noticing the settled dried tea leaves reminding me of a revised scheme from three game designers who hated their jobs, and who had all quit." Lydia, can I use my teacup?"

"Not yet. I need to finish the tea divination." I handed the cup to Lydia. She lit a candle and opened her grimoire, mouthing the ancient incantation. As smoke filled the room, she stirred the leaves in the cup, examining their patterns and reading them as if they were a map to the future.

She placed the cup on the table and recited, "The tea can see all that is yet to be… What fate awaits thee? Show me what must come to be, as I turn this cup around three times three."

Lydia spun the teacup three times clockwise and then turned it over onto the tea top. The tea leaves formed a distinct pattern, with what appeared like an upward-pointing sharp blade on one side and the face of a man with wide eyes on the other. The reading took Lydia aback. She jerked off her glasses, rubbed her eyes, and shook her head in disbelief.