WAR	OF

THE	ANIMALS

Book	1:	 The	Shut	Face	of	Thunder

Jonathan	DeCoteau

All	rights	reserved.

Copyright	©	2023	by	Jonathan	DeCoteau.

No	part	of	this	book,	including	its	characters,	may	be	reproduced	or	transmitted

in	 any	 form	 or	 by	 any	 means,	 electronic,	 audio,	 or	 mechanical,	 including photographing,	 recording,	 or	 by	 an	 information	 retrieval	 system,	 without

permission	in	writing	from	the	author.	The	characters	and	events	in	this	book	are

fictitious.	Any	similarity	to	real	or	fictitious	persons	or	animals,	living	or	dead, or	to	actual	events,	is	coincidental	and	not	intended	by	the	author.

Animus	Nor	Books

waroftheanimals.com

Paperback	ISBN	979-8-9885704-0-0

Ebook	ISBN	979-8-9885704-1-7

TABLE	OF	CONTENTS

Tablet	1:	The	 Rapsys

Chapter	1

Chapter	2

Chapter	3

Chapter	4

Chapter	5

Chapter	6

Chapter	7

Chapter	8

Chapter	9

Chapter	10

Chapter	11

Chapter	12

Chapter	13

Tablet	2:	The	War	Of	The	 Rulku

Chapter	14

Chapter	15

Chapter	16

Chapter	17

Chapter	18

Chapter	19

Chapter	20

Chapter	21

Chapter	22

Chapter	23

Chapter	24

Chapter	25

Chapter	26

Chapter	27

Chapter	28

Chapter	29

Chapter	30

Chapter	31

Chapter	32

Chapter	33

Chapter	34

Tablet	3:	The	War	Of	The	Animals

Chapter	35

Chapter	36

Chapter	37

Chapter	38

Chapter	39

Chapter	40

Chapter	41

Epilogue

For	God	and	family

Other	Books	in	Jonathan	DeCoteau’s

War	of	the	Animals	Series

War	of	the	Animals	Book	2:	Cry	of	the	Gods

A	generation	after	the	events	of	 The	Shut	Face	of	Thunder,	Thraxis	strikes.	The anaconda	queen	resurrects	long-dead	species	of	dinosaurs	to	create	an	army	that

allows	her	to	rule	the	seven	continents	of	Animus	like	her	great	ancestors	once

did.	Yet,	Thraxis	is	not	concerned	only	with	power.	The	serpent	queen	issues	a

dire	 warning	 to	 the	 animal	 world:	 all	 animals	 must	 unite	 under	 her	 rule	 before the	whale	god	King	Blu	attacks	and	kills	them	all.	Thraxis	confronts	the	whale

god,	 a	 creature	 so	 powerful	 that	 none	 have	 seen	 him	 and	 survived.	 Just	 as	 the animals	fight	to	overthrow	Thraxis,	the	whale	god	breaches	for	the	first	time	in

thousands	of	years.	War	is	inevitable.

War	of	the	Animals	Book	3:	The	Crown	of	Crowns

After	the	events	of	 Cry	Of	The	Gods,	King	Blu,	the	whale	god,	pronounces	the sentence	 for	 the	 land	 animals:	 total	 annihilation.	 King	 Blu	 plans	 to	 make	 an ocean	world	in	the	land	animals’	stead.	A	new	generation	of	animal	lords	fights

King	 Blu	 in	 a	 seemingly	 hopeless	 battle.	 Continent	 after	 continent	 falls	 to	 the whale	god	until	a	new	revelation	arises:	King	Blu	is	not	the	only	god	among	the

animals.	The	animal	lords	must	race	to	resurrect	a	legendary	deity	to	stand	any

chance	 of	 dethroning	 King	 Blu,	 an	 unbeatable	 god	 of	 death	 who	 sends	 storms, destruction,	and	tsunamis	merely	by	breaching	the	waters.	As	the	final	war	of	the

first	generation	of	awakened	animals	rages,	all	of	Animus	hangs	in	the	balance.

Coming	in	2024:

War	of	the	Animals	Book	4:	Azaz,	King	of	Kings

In	the	years	after	The	Great	Awakening,	a	young	cub	witnesses	human	hunters

kill	 his	 mother.	 The	 cub	 attacks	 and	 kills	 his	 mother’s	 murderers.	 Humans capture	the	surprisingly	vicious	cub,	study	and	torture	him.	After	a	single	act	of mercy,	the	cub	escapes.	Vowing	revenge,	the	grown	bear	leads	the	first	assaults

on	humanity,	defeating	bear	clan	kings	and	humans	alike	until	there	is	only	one:

Azaz,	King	of	Kings.





PROLOGUE

The	future	is	the	past	is	the	future, 	Snow	Prophet,	the	ancient	snowy	owl	of	the great	northern	regions,	scrawled	on	the	holy	tablets.

Never	 before	 had	 the	 animals	 written	 their	 tale—that	 of	 their	 rise,	 of

mankind’s	fall.	Never	before	had	it	existed	anywhere	but	in	the	rolling	melodic

songs	 of	 whales	 in	 twilight	 seas	 or	 in	 the	 cackles	 of	 geese	 flying	 overhead, towards	 the	 great	 rising	 sun.	 It	 was	 the	 song	 every	 awakened	 animal	 told	 its children.	And	it	was	more	than	a	song.	It	was	a	warning. Be	not	proud,	animals of	the	earth, 	it	began. Every	wing	that	soars	falters;	every	leg	that	runs	upon	the earth	 one	 day	 becomes	 it.	 What	 falls,	 rises.	 What	 rises,	 falls.	 The	 future	 is	 the past	is	the	future	is	the	past…





TABLET	1:

THE	 RAPSYS

CHAPTER	1

Kywy-Tolyn

Nunavut,	Canada

Moon	 Shadow	 shook	 the	 harshest	 of	 the	 white	 winds	 off	 with	 an	 afflicted whimper.	 Her	 paws—icicles	 lined	 with	 nails—winced	 in	 their	 impending

numbness.	 Still,	 Moon	 Shadow	 ran	 forward.	 In	 the	 distant	 echo	 of	 dreams,	 she remembered	what	it	was	like	to	live	in	the	world	before	the	end	of	worlds.	An

illegally	 smuggled	 Arctic	 white	 wolf,	 Moon	 Shadow	 knew	 the	 love	 of	 her

former	 masters	 before	 the	 new	 age.	 The	 tiniest	 of	 the	 humans	 reminded	 her	 of her	own	pups,	tiny	balls	of	white	fur	that	she	hoped	to	coddle	until	it	was	their

time	to	hunt.	Yet,	the	same	masters	took	her	pups	from	her,	putting	them	up	for

the	highest	bidder	to	steal.	Even	after	seeing	more	of	the	great	North	American

continent	 than	 she	 had	 ever	 dreamed	 of	 in	 her	 life	 of	 relative	 leisure,	 Moon Shadow	 had	 seen	 no	 sign	 of	 her	 pups.	 She	 wondered	 if	 they	 were	 now	 grown with	pups	of	their	own.	In	her	heart,	she	knew	it	was	unlikely	that	they	survived

The	 Rapsys, 	 or	 Opening	 of	 Eyes,	 as	 the	 street	 dogs	 of	 her	 former	 town	 rather poetically	 referred	 to	 this	 massive	 change	 that	 shook	 the	 very	 marrow	 of	 their bones.

While	Moon	Shadow	considered	herself	a	peaceful	wolf	by	nature,	a	 woowen-

ken, 	or	one	who	walks	with	nature,	she	had	killed.	Before	her	blue	eyes	locked on	their	prey,	a	rather	pushy	raccoon	that	threatened	her	masters	with	snarls	and

claws	had	its	neck	torn	asunder	in	her	mighty	jaws.	The	occasional	wild	cat	that

crossed	 her	 path	 had	 fared	 no	 better.	 But	 when	 Moon	 Shadow	 killed,	 it	 was never	 in	 fear.	 It	 was	 always	 with	 purpose.	 The	 Harkening,	 or	 Great	 Slaughter, had	 come	 upon	 her	 with	 more	 robustness	 than	 the	 pups	 that	 ever	 so	 briefly sought	 her	 milk	 before	 they	 disappeared.	 Trusted	 masters	 everywhere	 turned their	 pets	 into	 authorities,	 and	 from	 even	 the	 most	 distant	 howls,	 whinnies, neighs,	and	hisses,	Moon	Shadow	knew	what	the	 rulku, 	or	killers,	were	capable



of.	Her	eyes	met	her	master’s	and	even	as	their	little	ones	cried,	Moon	Shadow

knew.	Her	fur	stood	on	end,	and	in	a	brief	moment,	she	saw	the	eyes	of	the	 rulku in	 her	 masters.	 She	 snarled,	 biting	 hands	 that	 no	 longer	 fed	 her.	 One	 of	 her former	 masters,	 the	 mother,	 no	 less—the	 one	 who,	 unlike	 her,	 had	 not	 lost	 her pups—screamed	 at	 the	 authorities.	 They	 turned	 their	 sights	 on	 her.	 Moon

Shadow	ran	through	the	killing	fields,	making	eye	contact	with	the	vacuous	eyes

of	a	falling	prize	filly	as	it	crashed	to	the	earth.	She	saw	the	ravens	and	vultures circling	before	flying	off.	And	she	heard	the	thunder	of	the	crackling	sticks	the

rulku	held	before	she	felt	one	of	her	legs	give	out	in	wordless	pain	beneath	her.

Had	 the	 filly	 not	 fallen	 when	 it	 did,	 had	 the	 whimpering,	 betrayed	 house	 dogs not	 collapsed	 behind	 her,	 the	 rulku	 would	 have	 killed	 Moon	 Shadow	 then	 and there.

But	even	the	least	awakened	of	the	street	dogs	knew	of	the	term	 Ozu, 	the	great binding	 spirit	 that	 held	 all	 of	 nature	 at	 balance,	 deciding	 which	 dog	 lived	 and which	dog	died. Ozu	was	with	Moon	Shadow	that	coldest	of	nights,	and	so	she ran,	 gaining	 what	 food	 and	 wisdom	 she	 could	 from	 the	 edge	 of	 old	 towns	 that were	 death	 to	 any	 dog	 that	 dared	 enter	 unawares.	 The	 street	 dogs	 spoke,	 in vibrant,	 guttural	 growls,	 of	 an	 army	 forming	 in	 The	 Great	 White	 North.	 They spoke	of	how	The 	Rapsys	came	with	the	winds	of	the	tundra,	of	how	the	wolves, deer,	eagles,	and	hawks,	were	gathering,	along	with	the	sea	creatures,	the	otters

and	 whales,	 of	 how	 all	 the	 animals	 were	 gathering,	 in	 a	 secret	 meeting	 with	 a strange	 creature,	 Nurvlyn , 	 a	 rulku	 with	 eyes	 like	 theirs	 and	 the	 wisdom	 of	 the flowers.	Moon	Shadow	did	not	know	if	this	was	but	legend,	but	she	was	the	only

street	dog	with	enough	youth	and	stamina	for	such	a	quest,	the	only	one	who	was

not	 starving,	 taking	 what	 meat	 from	 the	 rulku	 bones	 she	 could	 feast	 on.	 Her barks	had	a	rhythm	to	them,	the	other	street	dogs	said,	that	showed	wisdom	born

of	pain	and	experience.	And	so,	Moon	Shadow	kept	running,	the	first	American

dog	 to	 reach	 the	 wilds	 of	 the	 great	 northern	 tundra,	 asking	 always,	 how	 much farther	to	Nurvlyn , 	how	much	farther	must	she	go	in	the	Arctic	snow.

Kywy-Tolyn

Nunavut,	Canada

Sky	Death	circled	over	the	near	frozen	animal	half-buried	in	the	snow.	His	sense

of	 smell	 was	 acute,	 but	 lately	 his	 sense	 of	 hearing	 had	 opened	 up	 as	 never before.	Bathing	in	the	sun	of	the	South,	Sky	Death,	an	old	turkey	vulture	with	a

wrinkled	 red	 head,	 a	 powerful,	 blood-stained	 beak,	 and	 claws	 of	 iron,	 had	 felt the	same	inkling	he	imagined	drove	this	domestic,	or	 sss-hress, 	as	his	kind	called it,	 into	 the	 wild.	 After	 flying	 over	 two	 hundred	 miles	 from	 carrion	 that	 littered the	 northern	 climes,	 Sky	 Death	 had	 been	 grazed	 by	 bullets	 smattering	 his	 right wing,	an	easy	target	with	a	span	of	over	three	feet.	The	old	vulture	had	a	knack

for	 survival,	 however,	 and	 lived	 to	 feed	 on	 the	 bodies	 of	 the	 rulku, 	 as	 vultures called	humans,	to	avenge	himself.	His	committee	of	vultures,	in	the	new	speak , nominated	him	to	leave	their	kettle	to	seek	out	answers	as	he	entered	his	twenty-fourth	hunting	season,	as	vultures	now	counted	time,	and	thus	would	not	be	able

to	live	up	to	his	fearsome	name	much	longer.

In	 slow	 and	 steady	 circles,	 Sky	 Death	 descended	 upon	 the	 mass	 of	 fur,

camouflaged	as	it	was	in	the	white	of	the	snow.	His	nostrils	flared	and	his	beak

readied,	but	the	moving	to	and	fro	of	the	rib	cage	of	the	 sss-hress	kept	him	at	a distance.	Sky	Death	had	a	knack	for	finding	the	freshest	kills,	but	until	what	he

heard	other	animals	call	 The	Harkening, 	he	had	never	made	a	fresh	kill.	The	men his	 kettle	 had	 surrounded	 had	 been	 the	 first.	 Two	 wayward	 bullets	 later,	 Sky Death	had	fed	enough	to	know	that	these	 rulku	 were	 still	 more	 dangerous	 than any	prey	he’d	ever	seen.

A	quick,	jolting	growl,	and	the	 sss-hress	was	up	on	its	legs,	its	teeth	bared	as	it readied	itself	to	pounce.

Sky	 Death	 spread	 his	 wings	 to	 their	 full	 span	 and	 hissed,	 vomiting	 parts	 of men	 at	 the	 wolf	 the	 way	 all	 turkey	 vultures	 vomited	 when	 threatened.	 Just	 as quickly	as	this	defense	tactic	kicked	in,	the	instinct	left	Sky	Death	and	he	and	the poised	 sss-hress	stood	facing	each	other,	circling,	ready	to	pounce.

For	the	first	time	in	millennia,	the	turkey	vulture	did	not	flee,	and	the	Arctic

wolf	 did	 not	 pounce.	 The	 two	 stared	 at	 each	 other,	 arching	 and	 cocking	 their heads,	trying	to	find	a	common	language.

Moon	 Shadow	 looked	 over	 the	 vulture’s	 spittle,	 and	 instantly	 Moon	 Shadow and	Sky	Death	had	a	common	alphabet:	their	dread	of	mankind.

There	is	a	meeting	of	all	animals	of	the	North, 	Sky	Death	said	in	cackles	and hisses.

Sky	Death	scratched	with	a	claw	at	the	earth,	trying	to	draw	a	line	to	illustrate

his	point.

In	a	moment,	however,	the	nanotechnology	that	linked	the	two	once	fearsome

rivals	 synchronized.	 A	 quick,	 makeshift	 language,	 the	 Osine, 	 formed.	 It	 was unfamiliar	to	either	animal,	yet	they	understood,	as	if	on	a	genetic	level.

“The	 rulku,”	Moon	Shadow	said,	“have	betrayed	us.	They	have	killing	fields filled	with	the	bones	of	trusted	companions,	all	laid	to	waste,	slaughtered	not	for food	but	for	wrath.”

Sky	Death	balanced	his	head	to	show	that	he	was	not	surprised.	“I	have	flown more	miles	than	a	 sss-hress, 	than	a	 rulku	animal,	can	run,”	he	said.	“It’s	the	same everywhere	 across	 the	 continent.	 After	 the	 great	 change,	 animal	 turned	 on human	and	human	upon	animal,	and	a	great	annihilation	has	begun.	I	have	been

chosen	from	my	kettle—”

“—And	I	from	my	pack.	But	I	don’t	know	where	I’m	going.	I	just	feel	drawn

north.”

In	the	midst	of	the	snow,	a	clan	of	brown	bears	growled	and	tore	through	the

brush.	 Sky	 Death	 motioned	 with	 a	 wing	 towards	 the	 herds	 upon	 herds	 of

variegated	animal	species	on	the	same	trek.

“Nurvlyn,”	 Sky	 Death	 said,	 “as	 you	 call	 him,	 the	 great	 wizard	 of	 the	 North.

He	 has	 summoned	 us	 all	 to	 meet.	 The	 birds	 of	 the	 air	 are	 chirping.	 War	 is	 at hand.”

“Who	 is	 this	 Nurvlyn?”	 Moon	 Shadow	 asked.	 “Why	 does	 he	 hold	 such

power?”

“He	 was	 one	 of	 them,	 one	 of	 the	 hress, 	 one	 of	 the	 rulku, ”	 Sky	 Death	 hissed out,	fluttering	his	wings	for	emphasis,	“but	now	is	part	of	everything—part	man,

part	ape,	part	tree,	part	earth,	part	sky.	He	knows	of	the	magic	of	the	 rulku, 	and he	knows	how	to	wield	it	against	them.”

“But	a	 rulku	helping	us?	Who	is	to	say	it’s	not	another	slaughter?”

Sky	Death	drew	in	a	deep	breath	and	thought	the	question	over.	“To	beat	the

enemy,	we	must	first	know	the	enemy,”	he	said,	with	another	flutter	of	his	wings.

“If	he	offers	us	warmth	and	food	and	wisdom,	I	say	we	have	little	choice	if	we

are	to	win	the	war	ahead.”

Moon	 Shadow’s	 eyes	 gazed	 momentarily	 upon	 the	 snow,	 as	 if	 in	 assent.

“Come	now,”	Sky	Death	said.	“Before	you	join	us,	you	must	eat.”

Moon	Shadow	stared	ahead	and	then	said,	in	a	stream	of	barks,	“But	what	can

I	eat	now,	now	that	I	know	what	it	means	to	see	so	many	animals	killed?”

“Rulku. 	 The	 passing	 bears	 killed	 a	 few	 of	 the	 human	 killing	 gangs.”	 Moon Shadow	shook	her	mane	in	revulsion.

“It	is	a	nourishing	food,”	Sky	Death	said.	“And	the	 rulku	would	do	the	same to	us.	You	must	eat.	You	must	survive.	Follow	me.	I	will	lead	you	to	the	kill.	We

will	eat.	Then	we	will	join	the	bears.	We	will	head	north.	We	will	find	Nurvlyn.

And	in	him,	we	will	find	either	life	or	death.”

“Ozu, ”	Moon	Shadow	said.

“Yes.	May	The	Great	Balance	guide	us	all,”	Sky	Death	said.

With	that,	Sky	Death	stretched	his	wings	and	took	to	the	air.	Moon	Shadow,

still	pining	for	meat	she	had	not	feasted	on	in	days,	ran	after	the	turkey	vulture—

behind	the	clan	of	bears,	farther	north	than	she	had	ever	run.





CHAPTER	2

Zukul-Ryle

Washington,	D.C.,	USA

The	woodsman,	Hunter	Sgt.	Rigel	Fowler,	stood	covered	in	a	myriad	of	brown

skins	 and	 furs	 over	 his	 uniform,	 checkered	 with	 blood.	 His	 ancestry	 was	 deep and	 covered	 every	 continent—part	 Inuit,	 part	 Passamaquoddy,	 part	 Jewish

combat	soldier.	He	had	seen	the	largest	rhinos	of	the	Savannah	fall	beneath	him.

He	had	tracked	a	mountain	lion	who	had	at	least	thirty	kills	to	its	name	to	the	top of	an	enclave	in	British	Columbia	and	killed	the	lion	and	its	cubs.	In	another	age, the	civilized	would	think	Rigel	Fowler	barbaric,	with	his	long,	black	mane	and

face	full	of	claw	scratches	and	scars.	In	some	ways,	he	was	a	throwback	to	ages

of	 colonial	 eras	 long	 since	 consigned	 to	 dusty	 history	 tomes	 or	 to	 Cooper’s Leatherstocking	Tales.	Instead,	the	media	now	heralded	his	exploits,	which	were thought	 to	 have	 saved	 well	 over	 one-hundred	 human	 lives.	 Still,	 deep	 down, Fowler	 knew	 why	 he	 decorated	 himself	 in	 skins	 and	 furs:	 not	 to	 celebrate	 his predatory	instincts,	but	to	remind	himself	of	the	price	of	this	slaughter,	of	all	the lives	that	he	took.

The	Little	Kitsissut	scientists,	led	by	Dr.	Ukula	Sifa,	looked	out	of	place	next

to	the	killer,	covering	their	noses	at	the	smell	of	blood.

Hunter	General	Wade	Brigand,	Hunter	Sgt.	Fowler’s	commander	and	the	man

behind	 the	 euthanizing	 of	 North	 American	 animal	 populations,	 made	 the

introductions.	 Brigand	 was	 a	 lanky,	 grizzled	 soldier	 of	 mixed	 ancestry,

descended	 from	 proud	 Ashanti	 warriors	 turned	 slaves	 turned	 soldiers	 in	 the American	 Civil	 War	 and	 ancient	 Celtic	 fighters	 who	 killed	 more	 than	 a	 few Roman	legionnaires.

“Dr.	 Sifa,”	 Hunter	 General	 Brigand	 said,	 “is	 here	 to	 brief	 us	 on	 the	 latest research.	 I	 thought	 it	 might	 be	 useful	 for	 the	 good	 doctor	 to	 meet	 an	 actual hunter	out	in	the	fields.	Perhaps	each	of	you	can	give	me	some	insight	into	why

we	haven’t	put	these	rabid	animals	down	and	ended	this	by	now.”

“Partly	 because,”	 Dr.	 Sifa	 said,	 “these	 animals	 are	 not	 rabid.	 They	 are genetically	enhanced.	The	signals	we	sent	to	the	nanobots	to	shut	down	killed	far

less	 of	 the	 animals	 than	 we	 thought.	 After	 the	 first	 wave	 of	 deaths,	 others

survived.	It	took	just	over	a	generation	for	entire	populations	to	adapt.	In	some of	the	young	in	Greenland	and	in	the	Congo,	we	see	signs	that	nanotechnology

has	made	permanent	alterations	at	a	cellular	level.	In	short,	it	reproduces	itself	in the	next	generation,	spreading	much	like	a	virus	does.”

“How	many	animals	are	now	infected?”	Brigand	asked.

“Satellites	 suggested	 untold	 millions	 six	 weeks	 ago,”	 Dr.	 Sifa	 said.	 “Their populations	have	found	ways	to	block	our	tagging	systems,	so	we	can’t	be	sure.

Every	continent	has	several	populations	of	intelligent	animals.”

“What	of	the	antidote?”	the	hunter	general	asked	Fowler.

Fowler	 shook	 his	 head.	 “It’s	 useless,”	 he	 said.	 “These	 animals	 are	 here	 to stay.”

Dr.	Okada,	another	task	force	expert	taken	from	civilian	life,	shook	his	head.

“That	can’t	be,”	he	insisted.	“Our	studies	have	proven	conclusive.	The	solution

neutralizes	the	nanotechnology,	blocking	its	ability	to	communicate	with	neural

receptors.”

“Have	the	animal	populations	shown	any	change	in	behavior?”	Brigand	asked

Fowler.

Fowler	shook	his	head	a	second	time.	“Let	me	ask	you	something,	doctor,”	he

said	to	Dr.	Okada.	“What	population	of	animals	did	you	test	your	potion	on?”

“First	 generation	 contaminated	 animals	 and	 their	 offspring,”	 Dr.	 Okada	 said.

“Bears,	chimpanzees,	dogs,	cats—at	least	a	dozen	different	species.”

“I	 can	 tell	 you	 this,	 doctor,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “The	 animals	 in	 the	 wild	 are immune.”

Brigand	shook	his	head.	“I	guess	we	have	little	choice.	We’ll	have	to	increase

the	euthanizing	programs	across	the	continent.”

Fowler	shook	his	head.	“With	all	due	respect,	sir,”	he	said,	“the	animals	have

spread	word	of	your	killing	fields.”

“Spread	the	word?	How	could	that	be?”

“Language,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “Different	 species	 can	 communicate	 with	 each

other.	I	don’t	know	how,	but	they	can.”

“Impossible,”	the	hunter	general	said.

“Actually,	yes	and	no,”	Dr.	Dana	Kahr	said.

She	 circled	 around	 in	 her	 chair	 until	 she	 faced	 the	 hunter	 general	 directly.

“Hunter	 general,”	 she	 added.	 “You,	 of	 all	 people,	 should	 appreciate	 the

efficiency	 of	 the	 original	 design.	 Originally,	 we	 were	 hoping	 to	 trap	 pockets	 of terrorist	 cells	 by	 using	 their	 own	 animal	 populations	 against	 them.	 In	 the	 event that	soldiers	needed	to	communicate,	we	needed	to	test	human	subjects	as	well.

These	 subjects	 would	 facilitate	 communication	 through	 the	 groups	 by

establishing	 a	 rudimentary	 language.	 In	 short,	 the	 human	 would	 serve	 as	 the

conduit	 until	 nanotechnology	 could	 adapt	 and	 allow	 animals	 to	 understand	 for themselves.”

“This	technology	compromises	humans	too?”	Brigand	asked.

Dr.	Kahr	shook	her	head.	“Not	all.	It	doesn’t	affect	most	humans	it	comes	into

contact	with,”	she	said,	“but	a	select	few	have	a	blood	chemistry	unique	enough

for	 the	 nanotechnology	 to	 work.	 We	 found	 one	 such	 subject	 in	 Little	 Kitsissut.

My	former	subordinate,	Nathan	Trola.”

“Where	is	he?”

“Apparently,	he	adapted	to	the	cold	of	the	inner	island,”	Dr.	Kahr	said.	“He’s

unaccounted	for.	But	if	there	is	any	communication	going	on,	he	is	the	key.”

“So,	if	we	kill	him,	all	of	this	stops?”	Hunter	General	Brigand	asked.	“Kind	of

like	taking	out	the	queen	bee?”

“New	 populations	 won’t	 be	 able	 to	 communicate	 until	 the	 nanotechnology

evolves	 sufficiently,”	 Dr.	 Kahr	 replied.	 “Something	 that	 complex	 should	 take years,	but	we	see	signs	already.”

“So	why	haven’t	we	tracked	this	Nathan	Trola	yet?”	Brigand	asked.

“He’s	rendered	himself	untraceable	by	our	systems,”	Dr.	Kahr	said.	“What	we

need	is	another	subject	with	the	same	type	of	blood	chemistry,	someone	who	can

also	take	the	nanotechnology	into	the	body	and	survive.”

Dr.	Kahr	nodded	at	Hunter	Sgt.	Rigel	Fowler.

“He’s	the	best	soldier	I	have	on	the	front,	doctor,	and	you	want	me	to	risk	his

death	for	a	science	experiment?”

“If	he	survives,”	Dr.	Sifa	said,	“he’ll	be	able	to	communicate	with	Trola	and

with	the	animals.	He’ll	be	able	to	hunt	Trola	and	bring	this	to	an	end	before	the

inevitable.”

“Which	is?”

“Extinction,”	 Dr.	 Okada	 said.	 “With	 entire	 populations	 of	 animals	 fully

genetically	modified,	humanity	wouldn’t	stand	a	chance.	We’d	be	at	war	with	the

entire	planet.”

“We	 can	 slaughter	 the	 beasts	 first,”	 Brigand	 said,	 but	 even	 as	 he	 spoke	 the words,	his	voice	broke.

“Hasn’t	mankind	already	visited	enough	death	upon	these	animals?”	Dr.	Kahr

asked.	“Finding	and	killing	Nathan	Trola	would	mean	saving	not	just	countless

human	lives	but	countless	animal	lives	too.”

Brigand	shot	a	glance	at	Hunter	Sgt.	Fowler.	“What	do	you	say?”

Fowler	shut	his	eyes.	“Give	me	a	night	to	think	it	over.”

Brigand	nodded	and	got	up.	The	doctors	rose	as	well.	As	they	talked	about	the

timetable	 for	 the	 surgery,	 Fowler	 stared	 ahead,	 vacantly.	 He	 had	 killed	 more animals	 than	 he’d	 ever	 hoped	 necessary.	 Perhaps	 now,	 he	 thought,	 glancing	 at



the	furs	that	decorated	him,	he	could	atone	to	the	animals;	perhaps,	he	could	give life	back.

Kywy-Tolyn

Nunavut,	Canada

Moon	Shadow	and	Sky	Death	were	the	last	two	to	join	the	great	council	of	the

North.	 Surrounding	 them	 in	 a	 vast	 cavern	 were	 families	 of	 otters,	 foxes,	 polar bears,	 eagles,	 mountain	 lions,	 wolves,	 muskrat,	 and	 mice.	 Everywhere	 Moon Shadow’s	snowy	white	head	looked,	there	was	another	creature	flying	overhead

and	scurrying	underfoot.	In	the	middle,	like	some	Buddha	of	old,	sat	a	wild	man,

with	golden	antlers,	covered	in	what	looked	to	be	plant-based	fibers,	with	long

scraggly	brown	hair	and	eyes	of	ethereal	blue.	Swarms	of	nanobots	circled	above

him,	as	if	on	guard.	Dirt	covered	different	parts	of	his	body	as	the	man	ate	of	a

strange	nectar	and	water	before	speaking.

“Nurvlyn,”	a	bobcat	hissed	out.

“That’s	the	great	wizard	of	the	North?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.

“I’ve	never	set	eyes	on	him,”	Sky	Death	cackled	back.

Nurvlyn	 closed	 his	 eyes	 for	 a	 moment,	 meditating.	 When	 he	 opened	 them

again,	his	eyes	glowed	brightly,	like	those	of	the	animals	before	him.

“Welcome,	friends	of	nature,”	he	said.	“I	hope	that	you	have	had	time	to	enjoy

the	 nectar	 the	 bees	 provided	 us	 and	 the	 fresh	 water	 put	 out	 before	 you.	 I	 only wish	our	reason	for	meeting	could	be	more	fortuitous.”

“The	 rulku	slaughter	us,	even	our	pups,”	Moon	Shadow	called	out.

“Our	 people	 starve,”	 White	 Claw,	 king	 of	 the	 polar	 bears,	 said.	 “The	 man beasts	force	us	from	even	their	food	graves,	where	we	feasted	before.”

“The	killing	fields	go	from	one	end	of	the	horizon	to	the	other,”	Dasu,	lord	of

the	mountain	lions,	said.	“Never	have	I	seen	so	many	cats	laid	to	waste.”

“But	 why?”	 Pale	 Ghost,	 the	 leader	 of	 the	 mice,	 asked.	 “We	 were	 one	 with O zu, 	the	great	law	of	Creation.	Now,	we	are	 flekus, 	an	abomination.	We	are	like the	man	beasts	with	poisoned	eyes.”

“We	 have	 ourselves	 to	 blame,”	 Sky	 Death	 said.	 “For	 far	 too	 long	 have	 we allowed	 the	 man	 beasts,	 the	 rulku, 	 the	 true	 abominations,	 to	 take	 advantage	 of us.	For	far	too	long	have	they	destroyed	our	homes	and	polluted	our	skies.	Now

they	 have	 attacked	 our	 very	 essence	 and	 turned	 us	 against	 Mother	 Nature herself.”

“Is	 it	 too	 late	 to	 reverse	 this	 curse?”	 Thunder	 Killer,	 lord	 of	 the	 bald	 eagles, asked.

“I’m	 afraid	 so,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “My	 former	 kind,	 the	 rulku,	 uses	 magic	 they cannot	undo.	They	act	with	abandon,	as	if	they	rule	over	the	mighty	lords	of	the

council	themselves.	It	is	not	right.	It	is	not	 Ozu. 	And	I	left	my	kind	because	I	am convinced	 that	 they	 will	 not	 stop	 until	 they	 kill	 the	 entire	 Earth.	 They	 are	 like children	 by	 the	 river’s	 edge,	 skipping	 in	 the	 water	 until	 the	 current	 eats	 them whole.”

There	 was	 a	 long	 pause	 before	 Crimson	 Fang,	 leader	 of	 the	 coyotes,	 spoke.

“For	a	long	time	has	animal	hunted	animal.	Now,	my	pack	howls	in	vengeance.

Animal	must	hunt	 rulku.”

The	 animals	 turned	 to	 Nurvlyn,	 who	 again	 closed	 his	 eyes	 and	 meditated.	 “I wish	I	had	a	simple	answer,”	he	said.	“I	must	meet	with	Methuselah,	the	wisest

of	 all	 living	 things,	 for	 advice.	 But	 if	 you	 seek	 my	 counsel,	 I	 would	 say	 that Crimson	Fang	is	right.	The	 rulku	do	not	respect	 Ozu. 	They	only	respond	to	force.

But	 they	 are	 cunning	 killers.	 To	 stand	 up	 to	 their	 magic,	 you	 need	 to	 stand united.	Animal	must	no	longer	feast	on	animal.	Instead,	you	must	find	a	common

law,	 and	 you	 must	 put	 your	 differences	 aside.	 Like	 the	 rulku, 	 you	 must	 form armies,	and	you	must	be	prepared	to	fight	until	the	death.	But	as	when	you	stalk

your	prey,	timing	makes	the	difference	between	making	a	kill	and	being	killed.	If

you	allow	the	 rulku	to	convene,	unchallenged,	at	any	point,	they	will	annihilate you	and	this	Earth.”

The	 animals	 sighed	 heavily.	 “It	 is	 not	 in	 our	 nature	 to	 kill	 just	 to	 kill,”	 Pale Ghost	said.

“It	must	be,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“I	will	counsel	you	as	I	can,	but	this	is	your	fight.

My	advice	to	you	is	to	mark	your	territories,	to	start	by	ending	the	killing	fields and	driving	the	 rulku	back.	They	don’t	do	as	well	in	the	North,	so	that	would	be a	good	place	to	start.	You	must	speak	together	to	form	strategies	for	attack.	And

you	must	reach	out	to	animals	the	world	over.	Only	if	animals	stand	united	will

you	take	back	the	Earth.”

“Nurvlyn	speaks	true,”	Thunder	Killer	said.	“The	 rulku	are	as	numerous	as	ant colonies	 on	 a	 hill,	 and	 we	 must	 protect	 those	 who	 cannot	 protect	 themselves.

That	is	why,	first,	we	must	have	a	law	for	these	times,	and	that	law	must	stand,

under	 punishment	 of	 death	 to	 all	 violators.	 And	 first	 among	 that	 law	 is	 that animals	must	respect	other	animals.”

Nurvlyn	wrote,	etching	the	laws	on	the	stone	wall	of	the	cavern,	that	all	might

see.

The	Law	of	Ozu



1.	 No	 animal	 is	 above	 any	 other	 animal.	 Every	 animal	 shall	 have	 a

voice.

2.	Animal	must	not	kill	animal.	Plants	must	be	eaten.	Only	rulku	meat

is	allowed.

3.	 In	 times	 of	 war,	 the	 great	 kings	 and	 queens	 of	 the	 animals	 are	 the rulers	of	their	clans.	Every	clan	has	a	vote	under	the	law.	No	animal

lord	is	greater	than	any	other.

4.	War	is	declared	only	when	the	majority	of	the	lords	say	so.	All	other

matters	are	decided	by	the	council.

5.	No	animal	shall	render	any	extinct,	not	even	rulku.

“We	 will	 make	 a	 copy	 of	 these	 laws	 for	 each	 of	 your	 clans,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.

“Now,	 I	 must	 go	 to	 Methuselah.	 I	 must	 leave	 you	 to	 decide	 upon	 your	 first attack.	 My	 advice	 to	 you	 is	 to	 make	 a	 statement.	 In	 your	 first	 attack,	 all	 rulku must	die.”

Silver	Snake,	the	otter	king,	shook	his	head.	“I	am	afraid	of	where	this	line	of

thinking	will	take	us,”	he	said.	“Still,	this	is	a	river	whose	current	already	has	us by	the	neck,	and	there	is	nowhere	else	for	us	to	go.”

The	animals	chirped,	growled,	and	hissed	in	assent.	Then	the	talk	of	strategy

began.





CHAPTER	3

Zukul-Ryle

Washington,	D.C.,	USA

Fowler	 sat	 out	 by	 the	 arboretum,	 taking	 in	 the	 silence	 of	 the	 trees.	 Back	 in civilian	 garb,	 he	 looked	 among	 the	 flowers,	 out	 past	 his	 property,	 to	 the	 great woods	beyond.	He	wondered	how	it	came	to	this:	how	humanity	could	be	given

so	much	and	mess	it	up	so	badly.	To	this	day,	politicians	failed	to	even	prioritize legislation	 on	 the	 environment,	 failed	 to	 take	 the	 massive	 steps	 needed	 to	 care for	 their	 greatest	 prize.	 If	 the	 environment	 were	 a	 stock	 portfolio	 amassing incremental	wealth,	it	would	be	checked	more	frequently	than	the	welfare	of	the

creatures	who	depended	upon	humanity	for	their	very	survival.	And	here	Fowler

was,	a	soldier,	one	able	to	provide	for	his	family,	killing	the	very	creatures	that intrigued	 him	 as	 a	 boy.	 In	 his	 younger	 years	 on	 the	 reservation,	 Fowler	 earned his	 name	 by	 studying	 the	 migratory	 patterns	 of	 all	 kinds	 of	 wildlife,	 watching real-life	 documentaries	 unfolding	 before	 his	 unwavering	 eyes.	 And	 he	 could hunt	with	the	best	of	them,	almost	as	if	he	knew	what	the	animals	were	thinking.

Now,	all	these	years	later,	he	had	no	idea,	so	trapped	was	he	between	his	roles	of hunter,	soldier,	and	nature	lover.

So	consumed	was	Fowler	with	studying	the	surrounding	animals,	those	that	as

of	yet	showed	no	sign	of	the	coming	evolutionary	storm,	that	he	didn’t	feel	his

wife’s	presence	until	her	arms	were	on	his	shoulders,	giving	him	a	nice	massage.

Fowler	placed	his	hands	gently	over	his	wife’s.	He	knew	he	wasn’t	supposed	to

share	 intel	 with	 civilians,	 but	 Maria	 Fowler,	 a	 Mexican	 botanist,	 was	 the	 only living	person	Fowler	had	ever	grown	to	fully	trust.

“What	is	it?”	Maria	asked,	looking	beyond	the	arboretum,	at	the	shifting	birds

beyond.

“War,”	Fowler	said,	“on	a	scale	we’ve	never	seen.”

“I	thought	they	would	have	killed	most	of	the	infected	animals	now,	before	the

virus	spreads	to	humanity.”

Fowler	looked	up	at	his	wife’s	eyes.	“That’s	just	it,	love,”	he	said.	“It’s	not	a

virus.	It’s	technology	gone	wrong.	Animals	are	migrating	north,	even	in	the	dead

of	winter.	They’re	preparing	for	an	attack.	I	can	feel	it	in	my	bones.”



Fowler	sighed	and	then	continued,	“They	think	I	hold	the	key	to	stopping	the

war,	but	it	comes	with	a	price.”

“Killing	innocent	animals?”

Fowler	 shook	 his	 head.	 “That	 price	 I’ve	 paid	 already,	 too	 many	 times,”	 he said.	 “I	 told	 myself	 that	 I	 was	 following	 orders,	 protecting	 human	 lives.	 And these	animal	hybrids,	they	are	dangerous.”

“But?”

Maria	stopped	massaging	Fowler’s	shoulders,	meeting	his	gaze	dead	on.	“But

they	 want	 to	 turn	 me	 into	 one	 of	 them.	 To	 give	 me	 the	 power	 to	 talk	 to	 the animals.”

The	pain	came	through	more	in	Fowler’s	eyes	than	in	his	broken	tone.	“They

want	to	experiment	on	you?	Absolutely	not!”

“But	 what	 if	 it’s	 the	 only	 way?	 They	 say	 my	 blood	 chemistry	 is	 incredibly rare.	What	if	I	don’t	do	this,	and	war	starts	because	of	it?”

Just	 then,	 Julian,	 Fowler’s	 toddler	 boy,	 wandered	 in,	 searching	 for	 his	 mom.

Fowler	smiled	at	how	amazing	a	thing	a	child	was	and	at	how	reckless	the	boy

could	 be.	 Julian	 was	 already	 playing,	 tearing	 off	 plant	 leaves	 before	 Fowler	 or Maria	 could	 stop	 him.	 Maria	 swooped	 the	 boy	 up	 in	 her	 hands,	 placating	 him with	talks	of	lunch.

Fowler	rose,	catching	his	reflection	in	the	window	of	the	arboretum.	At	first,

he	thought	nothing	of	it,	until	he	saw	his	eyes.	He	pressed	his	face	closer,	seeing around	his	irises	and	in	the	purple	light	of	his	veins	the	very	first	signs	of	what he	 saw	 in	 the	 mountain	 lions	 he	 killed.	 Fowler	 started	 shivering,	 feeling	 in	 the cries	of	the	animals	a	language	he	was	just	beginning	to	understand.

“Rulku, ”	 the	 crows	 squawked	 amongst	 their	 own	 kind.	 “The	 murdering	 apes approach.	Watch	the	fledglings.”

Soon	enough,	Fowler’s	hearing,	suddenly	more	acute,	also	heard	the	rumbling

of	jeep	engines.

“Maria!”	 Fowler	 called.	 “Come	 quickly!	 Bring	 Julian!	 They’ve	 done

something	to	me,	and	they’re	coming!	I	don’t	have	much	time.”

Fowler	kept	speaking	words,	feeling	liquid	anger	coursing	through	his	veins.

Whatever	 animalistic	 impulses	 they	 integrated	 into	 whatever	 nanotechnology

they	 injected	 him	 with	 amplified.	 He	 found	 himself	 pounding	 against	 stone, readying	 himself	 to	 kill	 some	 of	 the	 very	 officers	 who	 betrayed	 him.	 Yet,	 ever the	 soldier,	 Fowler	 knew	 that	 within	 moments,	 the	 man	 that	 he	 was	 might already	be	gone.	Even	the	names	of	his	wife	and	child	might	be	dead	to	him.

Kywy-Tolyn

Nunavut,	Canada

Outside	of	Resolute,	Nunavut,	the	Canadian	military	excavated	the	mass	burial

site.	It	would	serve	an	especially	unruly	polar	bear	population	that	had	attacked

humans	near	dumping	sites	throughout	Nunavut.	The	animals,	a	range	of	those

infected,	 from	 the	 mighty	 polar	 bears	 to	 muskoxen	 to	 Arctic	 foxes,	 all	 stood ready	in	cages,	awaiting	euthanizing	and	incineration,	awaiting	their	union	with

the	great	waves	of	ash	that	rose	to	choke	the	sky.

“The	bodies	stretch	towards	the	ocean,”	Sky	Death	said.

“I	have	flown	far,”	Thunder	Killer,	the	great	eagle,	informed	White	Claw	and

Sky	Death.	“Even	Snow	Prophet,	the	great	snowy	owl	of	the	North,	says	that	he

sees	the	same.	When	the	weather	permits,	he	has	seen	herds	of	animals	getting

euthanized.	The	sparrows	in	the	South	say	the	same.”

“What	of	the	 rulku	defenses?”	White	Claw	asked.

“A	 dozen	 men	 in	 each	 excavation	 site,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 answered.	 “Easy

pickings.”

“The	 rulku	are	clever	with	their	black	magic,”	Sky	Death	warned.	“We	must

be	precise.	Each	contingency	of	animals	must	attack	at	once	and	then	retreat	to

the	North.	The	great	northern	herds	of	muskoxen	under	Horn	Slayer	will	provide

us	cover.”

The	animal	kings	and	queens,	from	White	Claw	to	Pale	Ghost,	from	Thunder

Killer	to	Sky	Death,	gazed	at	each	other	before	issuing	the	order.

“What	we	start	now,”	White	Claw	said,	“cannot	be	undone.	If	we	do	this,	we

are	at	war.”

“We’ve	been	at	war	for	millennia,”	Sky	Death	said.	“We’ve	only	just	become

aware	of	it.	If	not	now,	when?	If	not	us,	who?	The	 rulku	run	like	hungry	hyenas threatening	 to	 consume	 Mother	 Earth.	 The	 longer	 we	 delay,	 the	 more	 of	 our brothers	and	sisters	they	kill.”

The	 gigantic	 head	 of	 White	 Claw	 fell	 into	 a	 reluctant	 nod,	 and	 the	 other animals	acted	in	kind.

“Prepare	the	wild	dogs	and	the	wolves,”	White	Claw	ordered	Moon	Shadow.

“You	must	take	out	the	gunmen.	Thunder	Killer	will	support	you	in	the	air.”

“I	understand,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

Moon	Shadow	growled	back	at	the	wolves	and	wild	dogs	behind	her.

“Moon	 Shadow,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said.	 “None	 must	 survive.	 If	 you’re	 not	 up

for	the	kill—”

Moon	Shadow	shook	her	great	head.	“I	have	lived	under	the	illusion	that	the

rulku	 loved	 and	 cared	 for	 us	 long	 enough,”	 she	 said.	 “I	 am	 ready	 to	 repay	 the blood	debt	of	my	fallen	brothers	and	sisters,	of	my	pups.”

The	wild	dogs	and	wolves	howled	in	assent	and	were	off.

The	 hunter	 soldiers’	 guns	 held	 steady.	 At	 least	 one	 or	 two	 of	 the	 advancing wolves	 fell	 with	 a	 bitter	 yelp.	 Moon	 Shadow	 still	 weaved,	 as	 did	 the	 other wolves	 and	 wild	 dogs,	 using	 the	 snowy	 ice	 boulders	 as	 cover.	 As	 the	 military hunters	readied	their	weapons,	Moon	Shadow	led	a	small	pack	of	wolves	around

and	 above	 the	 cages.	 She	 pounced,	 leading	 the	 other	 wolves	 who	 quickly	 dug their	 fangs	 into	 the	 napes	 of	 exposed	 necks.	 Thunder	 Killer	 took	 to	 the	 air.	 He led	 a	 flock	 of	 myriad	 birds,	 from	 great	 bald	 eagles	 to	 hawks	 to	 owls.	 They attacked	the	men	from	the	lookout	towers	and	threw	them	to	the	wolves	below.

Before	 the	 remaining	 hunters	 on	 the	 perimeters	 could	 fire	 upon	 any	 more	 of the	wolves,	celebrations	of	polar	bears	descended.	The	polar	bears	bit	the	men,

creating	an	entry	point	for	the	nanotechnology	to	spread	into	the	humans’	blood

stream	 and	 kill	 them.	 The	 muskoxen	 stampeded	 any	 remaining	 men	 seeking	 to run	away.	They	then	charged	and	battered	at	the	great	incinerators,	cracking	the

doors,	trampling	them	underfoot.	They	butted	the	controls	with	their	great	horns,

allowing	 the	 nanobots	 to	 transfer	 from	 their	 skin	 and	 fur	 to	 the	 machines, disabling	them.	In	the	base	headquarters,	they	could	hear	the	growls	of	the	polar

bears,	who	took	out	the	last	of	the	 rulku. 	Sky	Vulture	descended	on	the	bodies, tearing	at	them,	making	sure	each	was	truly	dead.

In	a	frenzy	of	moments,	the	battle	was	over.	Moon	Shadow,	White	Claw	and

Thunder	 Killer	 assembled	 before	 the	 cages	 and	 enclosures.	 With	 his	 wings spread	 at	 full	 length,	 Thunder	 Killer	 greeted	 the	 prisoners.	 “The	 day	 of	 animal against	animal	is	at	an	end,”	he	said.	“This	day,	we	join	forces	against	the	 rulku and	take	back	our	home.	This	day,	we	grant	you	a	release	and	ask	that	you	join

us	 in	 the	 war	 ahead.”	 Thunder	 Killer	 nodded	 to	 Phantom	 Paw,	 the	 fastest	 and most	agile	of	the	Arctic	foxes,	who	went	around,	undoing	the	locks.	Pale	Ghost

helped	him	with	the	locks	until	all	the	animals	were	free.

“The	 rulku	 are	 as	 plentiful	 as	 the	 stars	 and	 as	 lawless	 as	 the	 jackal,”	 an imprisoned	brown	bear	said,	the	purple	of	his	eyes	glowing.	“They	will	be	back

with	their	steel	hawks	and	in	greater	numbers.”

White	 Claw	 placed	 his	 paw	 on	 his	 brother’s	 shoulder.	 “We	 will	 only	 drive them	 away	 from	 our	 home,”	 he	 said.	 “We	 will	 kill	 only	 as	 many	 rulku	 as	 we must.	Hear	now	what	Sky	Vulture	says.”

Sky	Vulture	circled	before	landing	on	top	of	one	of	the	great	cages.	“Over	a

dozen	such	extermination	camps	have	been	liberated,”	he	said.	“All	of	the	 rulku

stationed	there	are	dead.

We	lost	thirteen	animals	in	the	battles,	from	the	tallies	given	thus	far.”

The	 brown	 bear	 shook	 himself	 free.	 “I	 don’t	 know,”	 he	 said,	 wandering	 off.

“But	I	will	speak	to	my	clan	and	see.”

“War	 is	 already	 upon	 you,”	 Sky	 Vulture	 said,	 “whether	 you	 know	 it	 or	 not.”

Some	animals	stayed;	others	walked	or	flew	off.	Before	the	kings	and	queens	of

clans	left,	however,	they	knew	there	was	one	more	task.

“To	 protect	 our	 brothers	 and	 sisters,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said,	 “we	 must	 send	 a message.	 We	 must	 let	 the	 rulku	 know	 that	 we	 don’t	 seek	 total	 war,	 only	 the protection	of	our	populations	and	of	our	lands.”

“The	dead	ones	have	transmission	equipment	inside,”	White	Claw	said.	“But

who	shall	speak?”	Sky	Vulture	asked.	“I	am	too	ugly	to	human

eyes,	associated	only	with	scavenging.”

“And	my	white	fur	still	wears	the	blood	of	the	 rulku, ”	White	Claw	said.	“Let me,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “I	 was	 once	 one	 of	 them.	 I	 have	 much	 to	 say.”	 With that,	Moon	Shadow	stood	before	the	cameras	that	Pale	Ghost	and	Phantom	Paw

operated.

“Greetings,	world	of	mankind,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“For	stretches	of	time	too

vast	 to	 name,	 we,	 that	 which	 you	 call	 animal, 	 have	 been	 beholden	 to	 you.	 For food.	For	companionship.	For	our	very	survival,	which	you	jeopardize	at	every

turn.	 You	 pollute	 our	 planet	 and	 kill	 our	 rivers	 and	 even	 our	 great	 forests	 and oceans.	No	animal	is	above	any	other,	and	no	animal	has	the	right	to	kill	Mother

Nature.	I	speak	not	in	malice	but	in	warning.	We,	the	animals	of	the	new	age,	are

not	 your	 enemy.	 We	 loved	 you	 once,	 before	 we	 came	 to	 realize	 your	 great betrayal.	This	that	we	have	become,	you	have	engineered.	But	we	are	self-aware,

we	are	strong,	and	we	are	free.	We	have	liberated	our	brothers	and	sisters	who

you	 chose	 to	 kill.	 Many	 of	 their	 bodies	 lie	 in	 plain	 sight,	 in	 long	 lines	 of	 dead stretching	past	the	great	northern	horizon.	This	we	cannot	allow.	We	claim	as	our

own	the	northern	polar	regions	beyond	these	camps.	If	the	man	animal	respects

this,	we	need	not	be	at	war.	However,	if	this	is	not	respected,	this	world	will	see a	war	the	likes	of	which	it	has	never	seen,	in	which	animals	will	stand	united	and mankind	will	fall.	If	you	wish	to	speak,	send	one	of	your	man	animals	unarmed

to	the	great	North.	We	will	see	that	the	man	animal	gets	where	it	needs	to	go.	On

a	personal	note,	I	was	once	one	of	your	pet	animals.	I	loved	you	greatly,	a	love

you	 betrayed	 by	 sending	 me	 to	 camps	 for	 execution.	 You	 took	 my	 pups.	 You took	my	survival.	I	speak	in	righteous	anger,	and	I	do	not	speak	alone.	There	are

many	like	me, rulku. 	Be	warned.	We	are	many,	and	we	are	as	one.”

Pale	Ghost	pressed	the	controls,	stopping	the	recording.

“Well	 done,”	 he	 said.	 “And	 now,	 I	 think	 it’s	 time	 for	 us	 to	 leave	 this



abomination.”

Phantom	Paw	fed	the	message	into	a	replay	loop	and	hit	 transmit.

With	 that,	 the	 clans	 of	 animals	 left,	 not	 separately,	 but	 together,	 to	 the	 great northern	regions	unseen	by	so	many	 rulku.





CHAPTER	4

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California,	USA

The	sand-choked	trail	slithered	like	a	red	diamond	rattlesnake	through	the	White

Mountains	of	Inyo	County,	California.	All	around	were	granite	and	shale	forests,

testaments	 to	 worlds	 past,	 when	 glaciers	 were	 alive	 and	 thriving	 and	 the presence	of	man	was	scarce.	One	of	the	ancient	bristlecone	pines,	stretching	with

reticular,	upward-reaching	fingers	matted	with	thick	green	bunched	needles,	was

recognizable	to	Nurvlyn,	though	he	could	not	say	when	they	last	spoke.	She	was

Methuselah,	 once	 thought	 to	 be	 the	 single	 oldest	 living	 individual	 organism.

Nurvlyn	walked	up	to	and	sat	at	the	base	of	Methuselah,	a	knotty	mass	of	rived

wood	 and	 root	 that	 had	 an	 odd	 mystique	 to	 it,	 the	 way	 most	 slightly	 gnarled, older	 trees	 do.	 Initially,	 Methuselah	 said	 nothing.	 Nurvlyn	 sat,	 looking	 around, observing	 everything—a	 flying	 black-tipped	 hawk,	 a	 fusion	 of	 pale	 nimbus

clouds	and	stark	blue	sky,	even	the	prickling	touch	of	the	wind	as	it	moved	from

his	skin	to	the	open	branches	of	Methuselah.

“I	am	here	for	the	counsel	of	the	wisest	creature	on	Earth,”	Nurvlyn	said	after

a	good	ten	minutes.

“No,	you	aren’t.	You’re	not	 here	at	all.”

“I	don’t	understand.”

“Mobiles,”	Methuselah	said.	“You	move	too	much.	Your	eyes	dart	around	the

skies	and	the	land,	taking	in	everything	and	nothing	at	all.	You	climb	peaks	only

to	move	on	to	higher	ones.	You	kill	us	to	create	wooden	structures	that	don’t	last even	one	of	our	lifespans,	and	you	call	this	progress.	It	is	not.	Progress	is	a	thing whose	roots	grow	wide.”

Nurvlyn	kept	staring	at	the	massive	trunk	and	clusters	of	pine	as	if	the	great,

aged	wood	could	actually	discern	the	urgency	on	his	face.

“I	 fear	 an	 interminable	 war	 has	 begun,”	 he	 said.	 “The	 animals	 of	 The	 Great White	North	have	held	council	and	have	risen	against	mankind.	You,	who	have

seen	so	many	ages,	have	a	perspective	I	lack,	that	of	many,	many	plants.”

“I	 have	 heard	 my	 sisters	 bristling.	 We	 have	 taken	 in	 the	 smoke	 of	 the	 great extermination	 camps.	 The	 soot	 stains	 our	 leaves,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “I	 know

what	you	would	ask	of	me,	but	I	cannot	ask	more	of	my	brothers	and	sisters	to die	at	the	hands	of	one	group	of	mobiles	versus	another.”

“Can	 you	 tell	 me,	 dear	 oracle,”	 Nurvlyn	 said,	 “what	 will	 become	 of	 this?	 I fear	I	am	leading	animals	to	their	slaughter.”

“Poor,	misbegotten	Man,”	Methuselah	said.	“Not	quite	animal,	but	not	quite	at

one	with	nature.	You	have	no	place,	and	so	you	seek	to	carve	one	into	the	earth.

You	insist	that	you	lead,	that	you	are	the	center	of	creation,	but	not	one	of	your skyscrapers	 will	 stand	 longer	 than	 the	 greatest	 of	 trees.	 Release	 your	 fear, Nurvlyn.	Close	your	eyes.”

“But	why?”	Nurvlyn	asked.	“What	would	you	have	me	do?”

“I	would	have	you	live	as	a	tree	for	a	day.	I	would	have	you	learn	empathy	for

all	that	is.	Then	we	can	talk	about	your	situation—once	you’re	open	to	hearing

what	nature	has	to	tell	you.”

“But	I	cannot	be	like	a	tree.”

“Sit	with	us	and	learn.”

“How?”

“To	open	your	eyes,	you	must	first	shut	them.”

So	 Nurvlyn	 sat,	 bundling	 himself	 against	 the	 deceptive	 cold	 of	 the	 Inyo County	hills,	closing	his	eyes.	He	tasted	the	salt	of	the	earth	in	the	air,	heard	the rhythmic	flapping	of	seabird	wings	at	a	vast	distance,	felt	the	sun	meld	with	his

skin	and	become	one	with	him.	Only	when	a	certain	something	with	legs	settled

on	his	nose	did	Nurvlyn	give	in	to	his	animal	instincts.	There	atop	his	nose,	as	if mounting	a	summit,	was	a	black	and	orange	pipevine	swallowtail,	one	of	nearly

one-hundred	 butterfly	 species	 found	 in	 the	 valley.	 How	 at	 peace	 the	 insect looked	until	Nurvlyn	opened	his	eyes.	Only	then	did	it	fly	away.

Upon	 opening	 his	 eyes,	 however,	 Nurvlyn	 saw	 that	 so	 many	 creatures,	 from butterflies	to	birds,	landed	on	and	took	solace	not	just	in	Methuselah,	but	in	the lodgepole	pines	in	the	distance	as	well.	Each	tree	was	not	simply	one	organism;

it	was	a	group	of	lives	in	one.	Every	form	of	life	that	affected	another,	whether

insect,	 bird,	 fish,	 or	 mammal,	 whether	 plant	 or	 particle,	 was	 a	 community	 of beings	 worthy	 of	 the	 deepest	 reverence.	 In	 the	 few	 moments	 in	 which	 the sunlight	blurred	his	eyes,	Nurvlyn	couldn’t	tell	where	the	tree	ended	and	where

other	life	began.

“How	beautiful,”	Nurvlyn	said.

“What?”	Methuselah	asked.

“You.”

“And	what	am	I?”

“All	that	is.”

“Good,”	Methuselah	said.	“That	is	your	first	lesson.	You	cannot	separate	one

thing	from	another.	Each	life,	like	each	death,	affects	all	that	is.”

“Environmentalists	have	long	told	us	this.”

“Plants,”	 Methuselah	 said,	 “have	 only	 one	 word	 for	 tell	 and	 do.	 They	 don’t separate	the	two.	To	us,	if	you	say	it,	you	make	it	so.	You	are	strange	creatures.

You	say	it,	but	you	do	not	make	it	so.	For	your	own	survival	and	for	the	rest	of

all	that	is,	you	must.”

“I	understand. Everything	is	one,	and	many.	The	winds.	The	earth.	The	vastest of	oceans	and	the	smallest	of	butterflies.”

“Yes.	This	fight	is	not	yours,	Nurvlyn,	but	it	is	theirs.”

“If	 they	 are	 to	 win	 this	 war,	 I	 must	 speak	 to	 the	 ocean	 animals,	 ones	 much older,	much	wiser	than	all	of	us	except	for	you.”

“You	must	make	your	animals	aware	of	their	interconnectedness.	You	must	be

a	 master	 teacher,	 Nurvlyn.	 Making	 them	 aware	 of	 the	 delicate	 balance	 of creation	 is	 a	 necessity.	 Only	 when	 all	 animals	 come	 together	 in	 a	 higher consciousness	than	mankind	ever	achieved	will	all	animals	be	strong.	And	only

then	 will	 the	 plants	 of	 this	 world	 consider	 helping	 your	 cause—when	 it	 is	 not war,	but	peace.”

“Methuselah?”

“Yes?”

“May	I	rise	now?”

“It’s	 a	 shame	 you’ll	 never	 know	 what	 it	 is	 to	 have	 roots	 or	 to	 reach	 towards the	sky.”

Nurvlyn	rose,	dusting	himself	off.

“Why	do	you	do	that?	Is	not	the	earth	a	part	of	you?	Are	you	not	part	of	her?”

Methuselah	asked.

Nurvlyn	kneeled	to	the	earth	again.	“What	are	you	doing?”	Methuselah	asked.

“Joining	with	the	earth.”

“I	only	wish	it	were	so,	Nurvlyn.	If	you	had	roots,	if	you	knew	what	it	meant

to	have	your	whole	life	fixed	in	the	earth,	you’d	respect	her	more.	It	gives	you	a sense	of	humility,	but	also	a	sense	of	wonder.	This	earth	is	all	you	have,	all	you ever	will	have.	Even	in	what	you	call	death,	you	rejoin	her.	One	day,	when	the

earth	meets	her	end,	her	matter	will	go	on.	And	in	that	matter	will	be	you—still

one	with	her,	still	one	with	all	that	is.	Roots	teach	you	this.	They	teach	a	great many	things.”

Nurvlyn	 stayed	 for	 a	 while.	 Methuselah	 wasn’t	 particularly	 chatty.	 She	 said nothing	 other	 than	 what	 needed	 to	 be	 said.	 But	 after	 a	 while,	 she	 noticed	 that Nurvlyn	had	started	to	cry.	So	powerful	was	the	memory	of	a	hundred	butterflies

perching	idly	in	the	wind.

“What’s	wrong?”	Methuselah	asked.

“I	can’t	believe	it.	You’ve	been	alive	for	so	long,	and	we	never	knew.”

“Every	five	hundred	years,	I	reached	out.	No	one	ever	heard	me.”

Nurvlyn	shook	his	already	ruffled	black	bangs.	“Do	you	have	insects	on	you?”

Methuselah	asked.

Nurvlyn	 laughed	 gently.	 “No.	 I	 just	 can’t	 believe	 how	 blind	 we’ve	 been.”

“Blind	is	what	you	still	are.	That’s	why	my	days	here—as	I	am—are	numbered.”

“You’re	dying?”

“Plants	don’t	have	a	concept	of	death.	We’re	no	more	alive	than	the	air	and	no

less	alive,	either.	We	will	be	with	you	always,	even	if	in	some	other	form.	What

you	call	the	living,	we	call	children.	The	parents	are	those	that	join	with	the	earth so	 that	 others	 may	 rise	 in	 their	 places.	 They	 are	 still	 alive	 to	 us.	 I	 will	 still	 be alive	to	you,	as	one	day	you	will	be	to	me.”

Nurvlyn	 nodded.	 He	 couldn’t	 believe	 it,	 but	 in	 a	 moment,	 he	 had	 to	 shake away	tears.

“Thank	you,”	Methuselah	said.	“The	water	you	shake	on	to	me	gives	me	a	few

seconds	more	of	what	you	call	life.”

Nurvlyn	 smiled.	 “I	 learned	 your	 lesson.	 I	 said,	 and	 I	 did.	 What	 I	 said,	 my wishes	 for	 your	 longer	 life,	 became	 reality,	 if	 only	 for	 a	 few	 moments,	 in	 my tears.”

“That	is	how	it	should	be.	Now	rise	and	go.	I	see	you	are	shivering.”

“But	how?	You	have	no	eyes	to	see	with.”

“Every	 one	 of	 my	 cells	 has	 eyes.	 You	 divide	 your	 senses;	 to	 us,	 they	 are endless,	and	all	are	one.	Now	go	before	you	get	too	cold,	mobile.	I	will	be	here,

as	 I	 have	 been	 for	 the	 last	 five	 thousand	 of	 your	 years.	 But	 you	 have	 other council	to	keep.	And	your	suns,	Nurvlyn,	are	not	quite	as	plentiful	as	you	think

them	to	be.”

Nurvlyn	absorbed	the	shock.	He	sat,	closing	his	eyes	again.

Methuselah	 said,	 “The	 nanobots	 have	 not	 joined	 quite	 with	 you	 as	 they	 will with	another.”

“How	long	do	I	have?”

“How	 long	 do	 any	 of	 us	 have?”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “Minutes.	 Hours.	 Years.

Decades.	Time	is	relative,	flowing	as	freely	as	the	butterfly	through	a	current	of air,	until—like	the	butterfly—it	is	gone.	This	we	must	not	discuss.	Use	well	the

time	that	you	have	left.”

“I	understand.”

Methuselah	 let	 the	 wind	 speak	 for	 a	 few	 moments,	 before	 saying:	 “There	 is one	more	matter,	Nurvlyn.	One	day,	when	you	commune,	a	mobile	will	approach

you.	 You	 must	 lead	 him	 to	 me.	 You	 and	 I,	 Nurvlyn—we	 are	 connected.	 When you	pass,	I	will	pass,	and	some	of	me	and	some	of	you	will	pass	into	him.	That	is



why	I	called	you	here.”

“So,	we	win	this	war,”	Nurvlyn	said.

“No	 one	 ever	 wins	 in	 war,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “The	 very	 idea	 must	 become abolished	from	the	 Ozu. 	But	in	time,	Nurvlyn,	animals,	man,	they	will	learn	to sit	as	you	have	sat,	and	to	learn	as	you	have	learned,	and	to	be	at	peace.	Now	go, my	friend.	Ask	for	King	Blu.	But	be	careful.	No	creature	speaks	to	King	Blu	and

walks	away	unchanged.	My	sisters	in	the	sea	will	send	word	of	your	arrival.”

Nurvlyn	 nodded,	 expressing	 his	 thanks	 to	 his	 old	 friend	 before	 rising	 once more.

Zukul-Ryle

Washington,	D.C.,	USA

Hunter	General	Brigand	stared	into	Fowler’s	dilating	pupils,	as	if	they	held	the

answer	 as	 to	 the	 mysterious	 message	 the	 infected	 animals	 sent	 from	 Resolute, Nunavut.	 Brigand	 had	 never	 been	 that	 far	 north,	 but	 he	 couldn’t	 imagine	 more inaccessible	 wildernesses	 than	 the	 polar	 regions.	 It	 was	 imperative	 that	 Fowler adapt.

“How	are	you,	soldier?”	Brigand	asked.

Fowler	 grabbed	 Brigand	 by	 the	 neck	 until	 officers	 surrounded	 him.	 The

officers	 trained	 their	 guns	 on	 Fowler,	 but	 the	 nanobots	 that	 crawled	 along Fowler’s	 forearms	 emitted	 an	 energy	 pulse	 that	 compelled	 the	 soldiers	 to	 drop their	weapons.	Fowler	looked	around	him.	His	deeply	purple	eyes	adjusted	to	a

world	he	had	never	seen,	full	of	fungi	and	dust	particles	and	bacteria	and	viruses he	had	never	imagined	existing	in	the	open	air.

Before	 Brigand	 passed	 out,	 Fowler	 let	 him	 go	 with	 a	 warning:	 “Never	 do anything	to	me	again	without	my	permission,	or	I	will	lead	the	animals	right	to

you.”

Brigand	recovered	his	breath	before	he	begged	off.

“It	 was	 necessary	 to	 act	 quickly,”	 Brigand	 said.	 “We	 either	 had	 to	 take	 your life	to	save	billions	or	to	let	billions	die	to	save	one	life.”

“In	time,	you’ll	see	that	both	situations	are	the	same,”	Fowler	said.	He	glanced

around	 the	 office	 as	 the	 officers	 recovered	 their	 weapons,	 now	 dysfunctional.

“Why	am	I	here,	in	this	lab,	with	these	men?”	Fowler	asked.

“We	 need	 your	 help,”	 Brigand	 told	 him.	 “We’ve	 received	 a	 message	 from

Nunavut.	 It’s	 a	 language,	 half	 organic,	 half	 machine	 code,	 and	 our	 computers

haven’t	yet	cracked	it.”

“Show	me,”	Fowler	said.

Brigand	 signaled	 to	 an	 officer	 who	 played	 the	 recording,	 which	 now	 was

tracking	 on	 the	 worldwide	 web.	 Fowler	 listened.	 The	 nanobots	 within	 him

immediately	deciphered	the	language.

“It’s	 a	 warning,”	 Fowler	 said,	 “as	 you	 could	 imagine.	 The	 animals	 have

declared	 any	 lands	 north	 of	 Resolute,	 Nunavut	 as	 their	 own.	 They	 have

dismantled	 your	 extermination	 centers	 and	 released	 the	 imprisoned	 animals

there.	No	further	extermination	camps	are	permissible.”

“Permissible?”	Brigand	asked.	“A	damn	polar	bear	is	going	to	tell	us	what	we

can	and	cannot	do?”

Fowler	closed	his	eyes.	He	could	see	Moon	Shadow	creating	a	new	den	with

the	 other	 animals.	 He	 could	 sense	 that	 she	 also	 felt	 his	 presence.	 Machines connected	them,	as	they	would	one	day	connect	all	life.	“It’s	not	a	polar	bear,”	he said.	“The	speaker	is	an	Arctic	wolf.	This	white	wolf	was	once	held	in	captivity

and	had	human	masters.	Apparently,	they	sold	the	wolf’s	pups	and	betrayed	the

wolf	 to	 the	 extermination	 camps	 once	 the	 transformation	 took	 hold.	 The	 wolf cites	human	betrayal.	The	wolf	warns	that	human	presence	in	the	polar	regions

will	trigger	a	war.”

“A	wolf	understands	war?”

Fowler	took	a	breath,	sensing	what	the	animals	knew.	“This	goes	much	further

than	 you	 and	 your	 military	 can	 imagine,”	 he	 said.	 “Many	 more	 species	 of animals	have	not	only	awakened	but	united.”

“And	what	of	the	human	living	among	them?”

Fowler	 searched	 inward	 but	 could	 only	 sense	 that	 Nurvlyn	 was	 with	 some-

thing	 incredibly	 ancient,	 powerful,	 and	 wise.	 “He’s	 being	 protected,”	 Fowler said.	“By	some	force	I	don’t	know,	perhaps	the	wisest	life	on	this	planet.”

“Can	you	give	us	an	exact	translation?”

“I	can.”

“Then	 do	 it,”	 Brigand	 said.	 “I	 need	 you	 hunting.	 I	 need	 you	 to	 find	 this Nurvlyn	and	kill	him.”

“Even	 then,	 it	 will	 not	 end.	 I	 must	 meet	 with	 the	 animals.	 I	 must	 talk	 with them	first.”

Brigand	smirked.	“Do	as	you	must,”	he	said	sharply.	“With	your	help,	this	war

will	be	over	before	it	has	even	begun.”

Fowler	nodded,	but	the	light	in	Brigand’s	eyes	spoke	of	a	savagery	as	foreign

to	Fowler	as	the	vanishing	memories	of	his	wife	and	child.





CHAPTER	5

Rul-Seerus

Mount	Asgard

Nunavut,	Canada

While	 Snow	 Prophet,	 the	 greatest	 of	 the	 snowy	 owls,	 circled,	 he	 thought	 to himself	 that	 the	 hedged-in	 curvature	 of	 trees,	 the	 scurrying	 field	 mice	 that	 so often	 constituted	 his	 supper,	 and	 the	 night	 sky	 that	 twirled	 like	 a	 sooty	 river turned	over	upon	its	bed	all	had	a	beauty	too	great	for	the	cadent	coursing	of	his wings	to	pay	proper	homage	to.	He	had	never	before	given	 Ozu	such	thought	or paid	it	such	reverence.	There	was	always	hunting	to	do,	hunting	that	beat	down

upon	 his	 feathers	 like	 the	 blood-speckled	 edge	 of	 a	 talon	 gripping	 him	 at	 full force.	 To	 be	 at	 one	 with	 nature	 was	 to	 feel	 that	 it	 could	 kill	 you	 at	 any	 second and	to	love	it,	anyway.	It	was	a	strange,	hapless	dichotomy,	and	for	the	first	time Snow	 Prophet	 found	 himself	 impressed	 by	 its	 untold	 grandeur.	 He	 circled	 and circled	and	as	the	field	mouse	stopped,	putting	its	head	up	towards	the	sky,	Snow

Prophet	swooped	past,	unable	to	make	the	kill.

All	 around	 him	 was	 the	 world,	 as	 precious	 as	 the	 giant	 white	 eye	 in	 the	 sky that	governed	when	he	rose	and	when	he	slept.	How	amazing	it	all	was:	the	tiny,

unawakened	insects	and	their	mating	choir	that	resounded	into	the	deepest	wood;

the	silver	fish	that	grew	more	tranquil	in	the	remotest	waters;	even	the	 rulku,	the great	threat,	ever	abiding,	that	kept	to	their	houses	and	let	the	animals	have	the run	 of	 night.	 Snow	 Prophet	 always	 sensed,	 but	 could	 never	 articulate	 with	 his own	thoughts,	who	and	what	he	was.	He	was	nature;	nature	was	he.	No	matter

how	 much	 strange	 magic	 the	 rulku	 might	 weave	 into	 this	 strange	 new	 web	 of night,	 Snow	 Prophet	 could	 never	 forget	 who	 and	 what	 he	 was.	 How	 easily,	 he saw,	in	the	advance	of	the	 rulku’s	iron	beasts,	did	mankind	forget.	Snow	Prophet wondered	 how	 long	 it	 had	 been	 this	 way,	 for	 how	 many	 generations.	 In	 chirps and	 cries,	 his	 parents	 had	 warned	 him	 of	 the	 insatiable	 appetite	 of	 the	 rulku.

Now,	 from	 his	 perch	 in	 heaven,	 Snow	 Prophet	 could	 see	 which	 way	 the	 winds blew.	 His	 eyes	 followed	 trail	 upon	 trail,	 road	 upon	 road,	 until	 he	 heard	 the piercing	of	the	iron	vultures	above	him,	their	battle	cries	unlike	any	in	the	animal kingdom.	Snow	Prophet	saw	where	they	were	all	going	like	a	giant	herd:	north,



towards	the	moon,	towards	the	new	animal	sanctuary	in	Nunavut.	And	so,	Snow

Prophet	 shrieked	 a	 blood-curdling	 cry	 of	 his	 own,	 warning	 not	 the	 iron	 beasts who	listened	to	nothing	nature	had	to	offer,	but	the	other	night	animals,	the	mice and	birds	farther	north	than	him.	The	message	was	clear:	death	was	upon	them.

War	had	been	chosen,	and	they	could	either	greet	death	in	the	eye	and	send	it	on

its	way	or	let	it	swoop	unexpectedly	upon	them	like	an	owl	in	the	night.	Like	a

banshee	of	old,	the	owl	prophet	sounded	his	 alarum	for	all	animals	to	hear.

Kywy-Tolyn

Nunavut,	Canada

Thunder	Killer	swooped	first,	knocking	down	one	 rulku,	then	another,	from	the convoy	 of	 jeeps,	 snowmobiles,	 and	 helicopters	 that	 emerged.	 The	 man	 beast, who	 also	 bore	 the	 same	 purple	 eyes,	 stood,	 unphased	 by	 the	 skepticism	 of	 his hosts.

“We	 haven’t	 come	 to	 kill,”	 he	 said,	 in	 a	 language	 not	 too	 different	 from	 the Osine	the	animals	spoke.

“The	 bodies	 of	 our	 brothers	 and	 sisters	 indicate	 otherwise,”	 Thunder	 Killer shrieked	in	 Osine,	circling	around	the	convoy	that	edged	perilously	close	to	the frigid	lairs	of	the	animal	militia.

Thunder	 Killer	 continued	 Snow	 Prophet’s	 cry,	 summoning	 his	 brothers	 and

sisters.

“I	am	Hunter	Sgt.	Rigel	Fowler,”	the	man	said.

“A	 rulku	hunter,”	Thunder	Killer	said.	“How	many	animals	have	you	killed?”

“Enough	 to	 know	 that	 our	 governments	 were	 wrong,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “They

have	 commanded	 me	 to	 come	 with	 an	 offer	 to	 talk.	 Our	 governments	 wish	 to understand	 you	 better,	 to	 hear	 your	 grievances	 and	 your	 demands.	 We	 don’t understand	your	language	well	as	of	yet.	We	would	like	you	to	send	someone	to

meet	with	us.”

Thunder	Killer	shrieked	the	message	to	the	surrounding	eagles,	who	shrieked

it	to	the	smallest	of	mice,	like	Pale	Ghost,	who	brought	the	message	back	with

him.

“They	say	they	want	to	talk;	they	want	a	representative	to	go	with	them,”	Pale

Ghost	said	to	White	Claw.

While	Claw	growled,	shaking	his	head.	“What	sense	does	it	make	to	talk	with

killers?”	he	asked.

Fowler	 could	 sense	 but	 not	 fully	 piece	 together	 the	 polar	 bear’s	 words.	 The man	beast	asked	his	nanobots	if	they	might	help	him	speak	clearer	 Osine, 	but	the language	itself	was	yet	forming.

“Yet,	if	we	could	reach	a	treaty,”	Sky	Death	said,	“it	might	save	us	lives	and

buy	us	time	to	build	our	defenses.	Mankind	has	been	at	war	with	each	other	for

hundreds	of	thousands	of	years.	We’ve	had	only	a	few	months	to	come	together.

We	could	use	the	time.”

“Too	 dangerous,”	 White	 Claw	 said.	 “They	 will	 dissect	 us	 and	 use	 their	 evil magic	to	find	out	why	we	are	as	we	are.	Then	they	will	use	that	knowledge	to

exterminate	us.”

“Perhaps,”	Sky	Death	said	in	a	cackle.	“Yet,	if	we	can	set	our	nanotechnology

to	harvest	information	from	them,	we	might	gain	access	to	their	weaknesses	and

exploit	them.	We	might	even	figure	out	how	to	control	their	iron	beasts	and	steel

killers.”

A	speck	of	light	shone	in	White	Claw’s	purple	eyes.

“I	will	go,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“The	longer	the	 rulku	see	us	as	unintelligent, threatening	beasts,	the	 longer	their	people	 will	support	the	 slaughter.	The	more they	 see	 us	 newly	 awakened,	 the	 more	 likely	 they	 are	 to	 deal	 with	 us	 more fairly.”

White	 Claw	 laughed,	 if	 a	 rolling	 snarl	 could	 be	 called	 such.	 “There	 is	 no fairness	in	the	 rulku. 	But	if	we	can	do	as	Sky	Death	says,	if	we	can	gain	intel,	if we	 can	 even	 stall	 this	 war	 until	 we	 join	 with	 other	 animals	 and	 build	 our defenses,	 we	 could	 save	 untold	 numbers	 of	 animal	 lives	 in	 the	 war	 that	 is	 to come.”

“So,	we’re	in	agreement?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.

The	animals	nodded	in	their	own	ways,	assenting	with	reluctance.

“Let	Pale	Ghost	work	with	your	nanotechnology	first,”	White	Claw	said.	“We

will	 send	 Sky	 Death	 out	 to	 let	 the	 rulku	 know	 of	 our	 decision.	 Moon	 Shadow will	accompany	Sky	Death.	We	must	look	strong	and	united	before	the	 rulku. ”

“Rulku	 don’t	 exactly	 take	 kindly	 to	 vultures,”	 Sky	 Death	 said.	 “They	 like eagles,	 though,	 especially	 bald	 eagles.	 Maybe	 we	 should	 let	 Thunder	 Killer deliver	the	message	and	keep	some	of	us	hidden,	so	the	 rulku	don’t	know	exactly who	to	strike.”

The	other	animals	nodded,	and	cried	back,	until	the	circling	eagles	and	owls

took	the	cry	to	the	air.

“Two	of	our	leaders	will	go	with	you,	escorted	by	me,”	Thunder	Killer	said	to

Fowler	upon	hearing	White	Claw’s	decree.	“But	I	will	choose	the	location,	not

you.	The	mountain	you	call	Barbeau	Peak.”

“That	will	be	inhospitable	and	hard	for	us	to	get	to,”	Fowler	said.



“All	the	better,”	Thunder	Killer	replied.

“Very	 well,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “A	 small	 group	 of	 us	 shall	 see	 you	 there—but when?”

“Sun	peak	of	the	next	cycle,”	Thunder	Killer	said.	“When	the	sun	can	rise	no

higher,	you	will	see	me	perched	there	with	others.	Bring	no	weapons.”

Fowler	nodded.

The	 helicopters	 pulled	 up,	 and	 the	 jeeps	 pulled	 back.	 Thunder	 Killer	 and	 his eagles	stood	guard	in	the	air,	circling	until	the	 rulku	and	their	poisonous	fumes could	be	smelled	no	more.

Kywy-Tolyn

Nunavut,	Canada

Fowler	 crouched	 on	 the	 mountain	 peak,	 gazing	 at	 the	 clouds	 that	 seemed	 so close	to	him.	He	felt	as	if	he	could	wrap	himself	in	the	sky,	like	he	might	shield himself	from	a	world	that	was	crumbling	like	the	mountain	rock	before	him.	As

Fowler	 lost	 himself	 in	 the	 moment,	 he	 heard	 the	 swooping	 of	 great	 wings	 and saw	squadrons	of	eagles	circling	the	vast	mountain	peak.	At	any	moment,	he	felt,

they	 might	 attack.	 Yet,	 the	 eagles	 circled	 and	 watched—nothing	 less,	 nothing more.	 At	 long	 last,	 a	 mass	 of	 bear,	 wolf,	 and	 wild	 dog	 ascended	 the	 peaks.

Fowler’s	 fellow	 soldiers	 raised	 their	 weapons,	 but	 Fowler	 ordered	 the	 men	 to lower	them.	As	he	did,	a	majestic	white,	Arctic	wolf	emerged	from	the	depths	of

snow.

“You	 are	 the	 envoy?”	 Fowler	 asked,	 in	 as	 close	 to	 the	 Osine	 language	 as human	vocal	cords	could	approximate.

“You	understand	us,”	Moon	Shadow	said,	complimenting	his	attempt.

“I	speak	only	a	little,”	Fowler	said.

“The	lingual	ability	evolves	the	more	you	speak	it,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

Moon	 Shadow	 circled	 in	 the	 snow	 three	 times	 before	 declaring	 her	 space.

Other	wolves	and	bears	stood	at	right	angles	to	her,	forming	a	motley	network	of

bodyguards.

“I	am	Moon	Shadow,”	the	white	wolf	said.	“I	speak	for	the	animal	armies	of

The	Great	White	North.	Tell	me	why	you’ve	come.”

“I	 am	 Hunter	 Sgt.	 Fowler,”	 the	 man	 said.	 “I	 come	 to	 set	 the	 conditions	 for peace	between	us.”

“Conditions?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.	“We	eliminated	all	of	your	killing	centers

and	drove	all	 rulku	from	the	Arctic	tundra.”

“Yet	 you	 are	 as	 newborn	 children,	 given	 eyes	 to	 see	 for	 the	 very	 first	 time,”

Fowler	said.	“Man	has	been	at	war	with	man	for	hundreds	of	thousands	of	years.

Man	invented	war.	And	he	will	use	this	invention	to	annihilate	all	of	your	kind,

if	necessary.”

A	turkey	vulture	emerged,	cackling	in	another	dialect	of	 Osine.

“To	 kill	 us,”	 the	 turkey	 vulture	 said,	 “is	 to	 kill	 yourselves.	 We	 have	 allowed you	the	greener	countries.	What	more	would	you	have	of	us?”

Fowler	studied	the	turkey	vulture	with	care.	It	became	clear	that	if	this	white

wolf	was	the	queen	of	the	animals,	he	was	the	adviser	to	the	queen.

“Attacks	 continue,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “In	 my	 country,	 there	 is	 an	 army	 of	 grizzly bears.	 They’ve	 torn	 through	 the	 Northwest,	 entering	 towns	 and	 killing	 in	 the night.	 They	 leave	 our	 children	 in	 bloody	 pieces	 before	 our	 very	 thresholds.

We’ve	hunted	them,	but	they	elude	us.	We	want	you	to	stop	all	animal	uprisings

against	humans,	including	the	attacks	of	these	rogue	bears.”

“Animals	 aren’t	 like	 the	 rulku, ”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “Necessity	 guides	 our fangs,	not	slaughter.”

“There	is	nothing	of	necessity	in	a	needless	kill,”	Fowler	said.

Moon	Shadow	and	Sky	Death	spoke	to	each	other.	They	concentrated,	using

the	 iwanga,	or	energy	of	the	nanobots	connecting	animals	to	one	another.	Fowler could	 feel	 the	 figure	 before	 him,	 a	 giant,	 hulking	 grizzly	 with	 endless	 webs	 of scars	matted	to	his	fur	and	eyes	not	of	purple	but	of	dripping	red.

“Azaz	The	Giant,”	Fowler	said,	“or	The	Bear	God,	as	he	calls	himself.”

“We	 have	 never	 met	 this	 animal,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “But	 we	 will	 send	 a convoy	of	animals	to	entreat	with	him	and	to	see	what	Azaz	seeks.”

Fowler	meditated	on	the	response	for	a	moment.	His	consciousness	searched

for	words	in	 Osine	that	might	carry	the	weight	of	his	message.	Yet,	he	could	tell that	 the	 adviser,	 the	 turkey	 vulture,	 already	 understood	 the	 meaning	 behind	 his silence.

“Some	 animals	 fight	 with	 full	 faculties,”	 Fowler	 began,	 “but	 not	 all	 animals honor	a	code	of	battle.	The	genetic	symbiosis,	or	 Rapsys,	as	you	call	it,	affected different	 animals	 in	 different	 ways.	 For	 some,	 it	 brought	 forth	 the	 nobility	 that nature	imbued	in	their	characters.	For	others,	like	Azaz	The	Bloody	Bear	King,	it

brought	 out	 their	 savagery.	 Some	 animals	 kill	 only	 to	 kill.	 We	 must	 put	 them down.	Not	just	for	the	safety	of	the	 rulku,	but	for	the	safety	of	all.”

“Some	 would	 say	 the	 same	 of	 the	 rulku	themselves,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“I have	 seen	 my	 own	 pups	 sold	 at	 the	 hands	 of	 men.	 I	 lost	 some	 to	 the	 great crematories	that	burned	all	day	and	all	night	on	the	northern	plains.”

“I	have	spoken	to	my	people	against	that,”	Fowler	said.	“But	if	Azaz	does	not



stop	his	slaughter,	we	will	have	no	choice	but	to	kill	him	and	all	of	his	kind	and any	animals	that	ally	themselves	to	him.”

“That	we	cannot	allow,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

The	 two	 stared	 through	 the	 ages	 of	 evolution	 as	 if	 a	 Neanderthal	 and	 a	 wolf were	ready	to	fight	for	the	same	bleeding	carcass.

“Let	us	not	end	this	parley	with	threats,”	Sky	Death	said	in	his	cackles.	“Let

us	 end	 this	 meeting	 with	 understanding.	 We	 will	 march	 to	 meet	 with	 this	 Azaz The	Grizzly	King	and	seek	an	end	to	the	slaughter.	You	will	end	any	crematories

killing	any	animals.	And	you	will	leave	us	to	the	North,	untouched	by	the	world

of	Man.”

Fowler	 looked	 at	 the	 turkey	 vulture	 with	 renewed	 respect.	 Perhaps	 he	 was wrong.	Perhaps	this	vulture	was	the	ruler	and	the	wolf	merely	a	decoy.

“Agreed,	for	now,”	Fowler	said,	“but	we	seek	more.	This	is	the	first	meeting

between	our	species	as	equals.	We	need	to	meet	with	other	animals	in	other	parts

of	the	world.	We	need	to	reach	an	understanding	that	will	benefit	all	animals	and

all	mankind.”

“In	 time,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “If	 you	 prove	 trustworthy	 in	 this	 treaty,	 there will	be	others.”

The	grand	commander	of	the	bald	eagles,	Thunder	Killer,	swooped	down	and

landed	between	Moon	Shadow,	Sky	Death,	and	Fowler	and	his	guards.

“But	if	you	violate	these	terms, rulku, 	if	you	kill	more	of	our	kind,”	Thunder Killer	 said,	 “there	 will	 be	 war,	 and	 we	 have	 more	 armies	 than	 you	 know.	 We animals	are	as	one.	To	attack	any	one	of	us	is	to	attack	all	of	us.”

Fowler	had	an	infinite	number	of	questions	and	concerns.	Yet,	he	knew	from

the	shrieking	of	the	eagles	that	the	animals	were	losing	patience	with	words.	And

so,	Fowler	nodded,	noting	his	assent	in	 Osine. 	With	a	flick	of	his	finger,	Fowler signaled	 his	 men	 to	 head	 for	 lower	 elevations,	 where	 mist	 and	 snow	 would	 be their	shelter.





CHAPTER	6

Klang	Uktor

Congo,	Africa

As	a	baby	mountain	gorilla,	Yorba	The	Ape	King	had	seen	his	share	of	poachers.

Most	snuck	into	the	jungles	like	hyenas	after	lions,	going	after	only	the	young,

the	old,	the	weak,	the	vulnerable.	But	the	poaching	had	not	stopped	there.	Yorba

had	 seen	 the	 contamination	 of	 the	 rivers,	 the	 blood	 of	 rulku	 fighting	 rulku staining	the	fruits	that	he	ate.	The	poison	magic	of	the	 rulku	was	everywhere,	all over	the	poached	earth.	Even	then,	Yorba	had	called	out,	had	snarled,	had	made

deep	guttural	cries	at	the	injustice	of	this	unnatural	force.	His	parents	had	called back	 to	 him,	 urging	 him	 to	 be	 silent,	 to	 be	 careful,	 of	 this	 steel	 predator	 that stood	outside	of	the	laws	of	the	earth,	that	no	number	of	apes	could	kill.	It	was

the	first	time	that	Yorba	had	felt	that	his	father,	the	great	gorilla	king	Siva,	had known	 fear.	 Siva	 may	 have	 been	 king	 of	 this	 part	 of	 the	 jungle,	 but	 he	 was	 no match	for	the	greater	monsters	that	roamed	beyond	the	tree	line.	The	whites	of

his	red-veined	eyes	said	as	much.

After	the	great	morning	of	awakening,	The 	Rapsys, 	when	Yorba	and	his	clan felt	themselves	transform	from	the	natural	into	something	else,	Yorba	lacked	his

father’s	fear.	He	knew	that	he	was	responsible	for	the	lives	of	hundreds	of	apes.

He	also	knew	that	the	 rulku	were	dangerous	and	needed	to	be	stopped	before	the jungle	 was	 no	 more.	 That	 was	 why	 he	 ordered	 the	 assault	 on	 the	 poachers camped	 in	 the	 jungle.	 That	 is	 why	 his	 apes,	 including	 Url,	 the	 strongest	 of	 the apes,	 and	 Pulu,	 the	 most	 cunning,	 snuck	 up	 on	 the	 poachers	 as	 they	 slept	 and strangled	them	to	death.	Yorba	remembers	the	feeling	of	his	own	father’s	fear	in

their	eyes	as	he	looked	at	one	of	the	poachers—one	who	cut	the	limbs	and	heads

from	 apes	 and	 the	 tusks	 from	 elephants—and	 snapped	 his	 neck.	 Never	 had	 a rulku	 battle	 been	 so	 free	 of	 blood.	 The	 elders	 of	 the	 clan	 still	 spoke	 of	 a	 time their	own	elders	told	them	of,	when	massive	thunder	birds	with	stony	beaks	flew

through	the	air,	laying	waste	to	the	earth	below. No	more, 	Yorba	had	thought—as if	 snapping	 the	 necks	 of	 a	 half	 dozen	 poachers	 could	 somehow	 stop	 the

inevitable	war.

Yorba	 tried	 to	 say	 as	 much	 as	 he	 sat,	 surrounded	 by	 the	 great	 kings	 of	 the

Congo	that	had	called	for	this	meeting.	First	among	them	was	Zulta,	sometimes called	 Half	 Tusk,	 the	 lord	 of	 the	 plains	 elephants	 and	 the	 oldest	 and	 most	 tried warrior	 in	 all	 the	 Congo,	 if	 not	 beyond.	 Some	 called	 Zulta	 the	 true	 king	 of	 the jungle,	 and	 the	 many	 tattoos	 an	 elephant	 priest	 etched	 over	 the	 body	 of	 this African	 elephant	 said	 as	 much.	 There	 was	 also	 Gray	 Eyes,	 the	 Snake	 Witch King,	ruler	of	the	boas	and	of	the	creeping	and	crawling	animals	of	the	jungle,

and	 Spear	 Tooth,	 the	 first	 among	 the	 Nile	 crocodiles,	 who	 had	 traveled	 many suns	 and	 moons	 to	 speak	 for	 his	 people.	 The	 big	 cats	 sent	 Slash,	 queen	 of	 the great	pumas,	and	Kama,	the	lion	king,	who	ruled	over	the	cat	clans	of	the	South.

Jyla	 the	 Fleet,	 a	 black-plumed	 ostrich,	 and	 Earl	 The	 Equivocator,	 an	 African gray	parrot,	also	appeared	to	speak	for	the	bird	kingdom.

“Quiet,”	 Zulta	 began,	 with	 a	 strident	 blast	 from	 his	 trunk.	 “All	 animals assemble.	In	times	such	as	these,	we	must	listen	more	and	make	noise	less.”

“The	 Ozu	 speaks	 to	 me,”	 Gray	 Eyes	 began,	 “of	 the	 truce	 in	 the	 North.	 Our brothers	in	the	polar	regions	and	a	mighty	wolf	queen	have	brought	the	 rulku	to their	knees.”

“They	will	not	be	there	long,”	Slash	said.	“If	there	is	one	thing	as	constant	as

the	sun	over	the	jungle,	it	is	the	treachery	of	the	 rulku. 	We	should	not	stop	at	the poaching	camps.	We	should	fight	until	the	 rulku	flee	the	continent	entirely.”

“We	don’t	have	the	number	of	cats	we	once	had,”	Kama	said.	“Our	resources

are	insufficient	to	defeat	the	rulku	and	their	sorcery.	We	need	time	to	prepare.”

“The	more	time	we	allow,”	Yorba	said,	pounding	his	ape	fist	upon	the	matted

ground,	 “the	 stronger	 the	 rulku	 become.	 Slash	 speaks	 true.	 These	 are	 not	 the polar	regions.	The	 rulku	will	not	just	leave	so	rich	a	land	on	their	own.”

“They	poison	our	waters,”	Spear	Tooth	said,	“and	seize	our	prey	from	us.	We

must	be	practical.	If	animals	are	no	longer	to	feed	on	animals,	then	we	need	man

flesh.”

“My	ostriches	tell	me	that	as	far	as	they	can	run,	so	far	and	farther	still	are	the rulku	camps	that	encroach	on	lands	that	were	once	ours,”	Jyla	said.	“We	speak	as if	the	war	isn’t	already	here.	The	 rulku	prepare	to	exterminate	us,	much	like	our brothers	and	sisters	in	the	North.”

“Equivocator,”	Zulta	said.	“You	have	been	uncharacteristically	quiet.	Yet,	you

have	 lived	 among	 the	 rulku,	 have	 eaten	 their	 food,	 spoken	 their	 language,	 and learned	their	magic.	What	say	you?”

“I	loved	my	 rulku	keepers,”	Earl	said.	“Yet,	as	well	as	they	treated	me,	not	all animals	 were	 so	 lucky.	 The	 rulku	 are	 a	 fearful	 bunch,	 like	 killer	 bees	 on	 the mounds	of	the	jungle.	They	will	attack	without	provocation.	Our	very	existence

is,	to	them,	an	act	of	war.”

Zulta,	 hoping	 perhaps	 for	 some	 calmer	 words	 from	 Earl,	 shook	 his	 great



elephant	head	and	with	it	his	mighty	tusks	and	long,	flanking	trunk.	“We	must	be

careful,”	Zulta	said.	“The	attacks	like	those	made	by	Yorba	and	his	apes	affect	us all.	If	we	are	to	go	to	war,	we	must	all	agree.”

“The	apes	are	mine	to	rule,”	Yorba	said	to	Zulta,	“not	yours.”

Zulta	 rose	 on	 his	 legs,	 giving	 the	 animals	 assembled	 before	 him	 another strident	blast	from	his	great	trunk.	“I	am	older	than	you	animals	and	have	seen

far	 more	 rulku	 damage	 than	 you,”	 Zulta	 said.	 “But	 I	 am	 not	 so	 red-blooded	 as you,	Yorba	The	Impulsive.	A	wise	king	strikes	only	when	needed	and	strikes	a

blow	that	will	last.	You	strike	at	poachers.	What	we	need	to	do	is	to	strike	at	the rulku	magic.	Without	their	thunder	birds	and	steel	horses,	what	will	the	 rulku	be but	a	weak	monkey	trapped	in	the	forest?	We	have	the	sickness	of	their	steel	in

our	blood.	We	must	use	that	to	our	advantage.”

Gray	Eyes	hissed	in	assent,	and	Kama,	the	great	lion,	roared	in	approval.	“No

animal	strikes	unless	we	all	agree	to	strike,	not	as	an	isolated	tribe	of	apes,	but	as one,	as	the	heart	of	the	forest,”	Zulta	said.

Earl	 The	 Equivocator	 and	 Jyla	 flapped	 their	 wings	 in	 agreement,	 and	 Spear Tooth	snarled.	Even	Slash,	the	great	puma,	joined	in	the	snarl.

“Have	 it	 your	 way,”	 Yorba	 said.	 “We	 will	 hold	 off.	 For	 now.	 But	 know	 this.

By	ape	blood	are	your	jungles	kept	safe.	There	is	only	so	much	blood	the	apes

are	willing	to	spill	before	taking	blood	in	return.”

“That	 is	 as	 it	 should	 be,”	 Zulta	 said.	 “And	 now,	 let	 us	 speak	 of	 a	 target.	 We must	see	where	we	can	do	enough	damage	to	make	the	 rulku	squirm.”

And	so,	the	animals	spoke	among	themselves,	mapping	out	their	jungle.	Just

then,	Zulta	pushed	them	to	choose	a	target	still	greater,	the	place	the	steel	birds came	from,	the	place	that	would	be,	by	far,	the	hardest	to	overcome.

Qwee-Wongo

Pacific	waters

Nurvlyn	stood	with	his	hand	in	the	water	in	a	dinghy	off	the	Pacific	shore.	The

nanobots	 crawled	 along	 his	 arm	 and	 into	 the	 ocean.	 They	 sped	 like	 minnows circling	 the	 smallest	 waters	 as	 if	 they	 were	 the	 vastest	 of	 seas.	 Nurvlyn	 stared after	them,	amazed	at	how	much	the	tiniest	of	creatures	had	evolved	in	the	span

of	only	a	few	years.	They	bolted	ahead,	to	the	great	unknown.	Methuselah	and

her	brothers,	the	great	redwoods	of	the	northwestern	forests,	had	whispered	for

weeks	 of	 a	 singular	 intelligence	 beyond	 anything	 rulku	 or	 animal	 had	 seen

before.	 At	 first,	 Nurvlyn	 thought	 that	 the	 trees	 whispered	 of	 a	 god.	 But	 as	 he heard	their	rustling,	Nurvlyn	began	to	understand	their	messages	in	a	way	most

animals	 could	 not.	 He	 understood	 that	 there	 was	 a	 great	 alien	 intelligence, animal	 or	 divine,	 that	 the	 nanotechnology	 of	 the	 waters	 had	 infiltrated.	 A	 great whale,	known	only	as	King	Blu,	was	taking	charge	of	the	waters,	creating	energy

fields	 by	 sheer	 intellect	 that	 prevented	 rulku	 divers	 from	 reaching	 the	 farthest stretches	 of	 ocean.	 Nurvlyn	 knew	 that	 such	 an	 advanced	 intellect	 might	 have learned	 to	 distrust	 the	 world	 of	 men	 so	 far	 removed,	 but	 ever	 so	 encroaching.

King	 Blu	 might	 see	 men	 as	 the	 great	 poisoner	 of	 the	 waters.	 But	 now,	 here Nurvlyn	 was,	 a	 rulku	 himself,	 or	 formerly	 one,	 sending	 a	 message	 through	 his nanobots	 to	 any	 and	 all	 they	 might	 encounter,	 until	 the	 nanobots	 that	 reached King	 Blu	 might	 make	 the	 message	 plain.	 War	 is	 at	 hand.	 Please	 advise	 how	 to proceed	 before	 even	 the	 creatures	 of	 the	 oceans	 are	 affected.	 Nurvlyn	 kept	 his hand	 in	 the	 water,	 trying	 to	 connect	 with	 the	 nanotechnology	 there,	 but	 the language	of	the	sea	was	a	strange	one	to	him,	one	he	could	not	decipher.

You	should	not	be	here, 	Nurvlyn	sensed	in	a	dialect	of	 Osine	so	strange	it	was almost	 like	 another	 language.	 Surfacing	 before	 him	 in	 the	 great	 Northwest Pacific	was	a	school	of	orcas,	farther	off,	watching	the	mammal	they	had	learned

never	to	trust.

I	request	an	audience	with	King	Blu, 	Nurvlyn	said	in	terrestrial	 Osine.	Before the	great	war	comes.

Your	 war,	 not	 ours, 	 one	 orca	 said,	 as	 the	 whales	 swam	 in	 circles	 around	 the dinghy.

It	is	a	war	that	will	sweep	the	globe,	its	land	and	its	waters, 	Nurvlyn	said. It will	 not	 make	 a	 difference	 to	 me.	 I	 am	 a	 creature	 of	 the	 moment.	 But	 your families,	your	oceans,	your	lives	will	be	at	stake	if	you	simply	do	nothing.

The	orcas	whistled	and	clicked.	The	noises	merged	into	a	storm	of	sound.

Nurvlyn	watched	as	they	circled,	trying	to	decipher	this	vast,	unfamiliar	noise.

A	 rulku	outcast, 	they	said, turned	 prophet.	 You	 would	 dare	 to	 tell	 us	 of	 what will	become?	To	tell	King	Blu	of	the	coming	storm?	You	make	no	difference	here, prophet.	You	are	as	the	chum	that	fills	the	waters.	Life	came	from	the	ocean;	so too	did	death.

Please, 	 Nurvlyn	 said. Deliver	 this	 message.	 The	 animals	 of	 the	 North	 need your	help.	A	trap	is	being	set	for	them.

And	what	has	that	to	do	with	us,	prophet? 	the	orca	asked.

If	the	rulku	win	this	war,	your	environment	will	also	be	lost, 	Nurvlyn	warned.

Surely,	 you’ve	 seen	 the	 dying	 coral.	 The	 swarms	 of	 jellyfish.	 The	 loss	 of	 seal meat.	The	change	in	temperatures.	Surely,	you’ve	seen	the	great	garbage	patches that	stretch	for	miles	on	end.



One	less	rulku	means	less	danger, 	a	single	orca	communicated,	rising	from	the waters.

The	orcas	clicked	and	cried	out,	overturning	the	dingy	and	taking	the	foot	of

the	 prophet	 that	 came	 to	 warn	 them.	 Nurvlyn	 fought	 for	 breath.	 Yet,	 one	 orca, Black	 Fin,	 took	 him	 beneath	 the	 waters	 until	 he	 nearly	 died.	 The	 orca	 let Nurvlyn	surface	and	then	dragged	him	again.	The	other	orcas	clicked	in	delight.

Enough, 	 a	 thunderous	 voice—half	 whale	 cry,	 half	 godly	 decree—cried	 out.

King	Blu	hears	all	that	is	upon	his	waters.	If	you	wish	to	see	what	I	see,	you	must give	up	the	Osine	for	a	language	of	the	mind.

The	 orcas	 broke	 off,	 heading	 farther	 out—after	 what,	 Nurvlyn	 couldn’t	 say.

Nurvlyn	crawled	his	way	back	to	his	boat.	His	mind	throbbed	in	the	silent	song

of	King	Blu.

Your	mind	is	so	ancient,	so	pure,	so	powerful, 	Nurvlyn	said. I	cannot	think	as you	think.	If	you	sang	a	single	whale	song,	I	might	die.

Go	to	the	great	fire	mountain	of	the	north	Pacific,	the	one	you	call	Axial.	The dolphins	will	guide	you	there.	There,	my	nanotechnology	can	reach	you,	and	you will	see	a	glimpse	of	what	I	see.

And	what	is	that? 	Nurvlyn	asked,	huddling	his	body	in	the	Pacific	Northwest rain.

Inevitability, 	King	Blu	answered.

Nurvlyn	 thought	 over	 the	 strange	 Osine	 words	 before	 assenting. I	 will	 be there, 	he	said. Thank	you	for	saving	my	life.

For	 millions	 of	 years,	 my	 ancestors	 have	 ruled	 this	 planet, 	 King	 Blu	 said.

Some	even	think	of	me	as	a	god	of	death.	Yet,	in	all	of	those	years,	I	can	safely say	that	in	death,	there	is	always	the	opportunity	for	new	life.

With	 that,	 the	 message	 broke	 off,	 and	 Nurvlyn	 turned	 on	 the	 motor	 of	 his dinghy,	keenly	aware	that	the	ocean	now	had	eyes.

Klang	Uktor

Congo,	Africa

On	 the	 banks	 of	 the	 great	 Congo—which	 snaked	 around	 the	 lush	 bamboo

thickets	uniquely	adapted	to	periods	of	intense	sun	and	equally	intense	rain—sat

a	pair	of	jeeps.	The	jeeps	spawned	several	men	in	dense	camouflage	who	left	the

security	of	their	metal	beasts	for	the	vined	embrace	of	the	forested	jungle.	They

snaked	through	themselves,	staring	around,	conscious	of	how	a	jungle	with	more

animals,	 insects,	 and	 plants	 per	 square	 inch	 than	 at	 any	 other	 place	 on	 the continent,	could	eat	them	alive	at	any	second.	And	still,	they	whispered.

“The	ape	lords	aren’t	here,”	one	soldier	whispered	in	Kituba.

He	 searched	 around	 the	 forest	 floor	 for	 any	 broken	 ferns	 or	 droppings	 that might	indicate	an	ape	presence	in	recent	days.

“They	were	here	all	right,”	another	soldier	answered.	He	pointed	with	his	rifle

towards	 an	 overturned	 jeep	 and	 the	 disemboweled	 remains	 of	 a	 few	 men	 in uniform.

“Look	 over	 there,”	 a	 third	 soldier	 said	 as	 they	 saw	 a	 head	 on	 a	 stake	 staring out	at	the	jungle.

“What	the…”	the	first	said,	approaching	the	severed	head.	“A	fresh	kill!”

It	 was	 part	 skull,	 part	 blood,	 part	 skin,	 all	 mangled	 with	 jungle	 flies.	 The soldier	 put	 his	 finger	 forward	 to	 see	 how	 fresh	 the	 blood	 was	 when	 a	 guttural growl	came	from	the	deep	stomach	of	the	jungle.

“We’re	trapped,”	the	first	soldier	declared.	“Fire!”

The	 men	 all	 got	 back	 in	 their	 jeeps,	 pointing	 their	 guns	 towards	 the

stampeding	shadows	of	the	forest	floor.	In	one	sweeping	motion,	from	the	tops

of	the	trees,	spider	monkeys	threw	down	stones	upon	the	jeeps.	The	men	turned

their	attention	to	the	trees,	aiming	their	ammunition	at	the	spider	monkeys	who

flew	 from	 treetop	 to	 treetop.	 Still,	 there	 was	 a	 deeper	 roar	 in	 the	 jungle	 before Zulta	 and	 his	 stampeding	 elephants	 came	 from	 the	 opposite	 end,	 ramming	 into the	jeeps	and	keeping	them	from	backing	up	further.	The	men	turned	their	guns

on	the	elephants	just	as	a	group	of	rhinoceroses	rammed	the	jeeps,	turning	them

over.	 Kama	 and	 his	 lions	 attacked,	 biting	 at	 the	 men.	 Finally,	 Yorba	 descended with	 the	 mountain	 gorillas.	 The	 men’s	 camouflage	 coats	 flung	 over	 the	 apes’

shoulders	 as	 they	 pounded	 the	 gun	 men	 into	 oblivion,	 seizing	 their	 guns	 and shooting	 at	 their	 skulls.	 Zulta	 sent	 his	 nanobots	 forward.	 The	 tiny	 machines crawled	 into	 the	 jeeps,	 into	 the	 guns,	 into	 the	 men	 themselves,	 seeking information.

The	apes	and	spider	monkeys	roared	as	Gray	Eyes	slithered	over	the	bodies,

checking	for	any	signs	of	life.

Earl	 The	 Equivocator	 called	 out	 to	 the	 buzzards	 of	 the	 air.	 No	 one	 saw	 or smelled	any	 rulku	for	miles	upon	miles	of	open	swaths	of	land.

“Tonight,	we	feast	on	man	flesh,”	Yorba	called	out.

The	apes	yammered	in	assent.

“Let	Kama	and	his	cats	drag	the	bodies	for	us	to	burn	and	eat	by	fire,”	Zulta

commanded.	“Before	we	feast,	Yorba,	we	must	clean	up	all	evidence	of	the	men

and	their	steel	beasts,	dumping	them	in	the	great	swamp	for	none	to	see.”

“Hide	nothing!	Let	all	 rulku	see	and	fear	the	power	of	the	jungle,”	Yorba	cried



out.

Zulta	let	out	a	blast	from	his	mighty	trunk.	“Silence,”	Zulta	said.	“In	time,	we

will	strike,	when	we	are	ready.	Celebrate	then.	For	now,	we	must	remove	stakes,

heads,	 and	 evidence.	 We	 must	 operate	 under	 the	 cover	 of	 the	 jungle	 until	 we know	how	to	incapacitate	their	steel	beasts.	A	war	that	cannot	be	won	is	no	more

than	a	slaughter.”

Gray	Eyes	hissed	his	assent,	and	Spear	Tooth	snarled	at	the	great	ape	king.

“For	 now,	 we’ll	 do	 it	 your	 way,”	 Yorba	 said.	 “But	 soon,	 the	 great	 fist	 of	 the ape	shall	be	felt	by	all.”

The	ape	chants	rose	to	a	fever	pitch	before	all	fell	into	the	great	fronds	of	the

jungle,	lost	to	the	matted	plains.





CHAPTER	7

Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

In	 the	 great	 peaks	 of	 the	 upper	 Rockies	 sat	 a	 bastion	 among	 the	 rocks,	 a	 huge, Stonehenge-like	structure	of	monoliths	with	pillars	reaching	up,	like	fangs,	to	the crude	facial	approximations	of	the	bear	god,	Azaz.	Along	the	cave,	mounted	in

giant	 sticks,	 were	 the	 half-gnawed	 bodies	 of	 any	 rulku	 unfortunate	 enough	 to cross	 his	 militia	 of	 bears.	 The	 grizzlies	 themselves,	 greater	 in	 number	 than	 the clouds	that	hovered	above,	each	reclined	among	the	vast	network	of	caves.	They

ate	of	man’s	flesh	by	circling	fires	as	they	partook	in	one	prolonged	growl	that

embodied	epic	stories	of	conquest.

“I	smell	you	before	I	see	you,”	Azaz	called	out,	ending	the	revelry.	“Speak	or

perish.”

Gingerly,	 Moon	 Shadow	 skulked	 along,	 led	 by	 the	 giant	 grizzly	 bear

commander	 Vronkyl.	 Moon	 Shadow	 lowered	 her	 head	 in	 submission	 to	 Azaz,

the	 grand	 master	 of	 the	 mountains.	 Behind	 her	 were	 the	 white	 wolves	 of	 the North	 and	 a	 garrison	 of	 polar	 bears	 led	 by	 White	 Claw	 himself.	 Over	 her	 head cried	Thunder	Killer,	shrieking	to	announce	the	presence	of	Moon	Shadow	and

company,	and	Sky	Death,	who	circled	quietly.

“I	am	the	one	they	call	Moon	Shadow,”	the	great	white	wolf	announced,	“and

I	have	come	to	parley	over	the	problem	of	the	 rulku. ”

“If	it	isn’t	the	fabled	Great	Army	of	the	North,”	Azaz	said.

The	self-proclaimed	bear	god	stood	up.	On	his	hind	legs,	at	full	height,	Azaz

easily	surpassed	any	of	the	polar	bears.	His	back	legs	were	trunks	that	resembled

earthy	oak	trunks,	and	his	stomach	and	chest	had	something	of	the	color	of	the

great	redwoods.	Azaz’s	teeth	were	jagged	and	bloody	with	kills.	His	body	was	a

sea	of	interconnected	scars	from	years	of	predation.	Only	his	eyes	had	a	touch	of

majesty	about	them,	a	softness	to	the	purple-red	light	that	haunted	the	pupils	of

the	 evolved.	 But	 even	 that	 light	 hardened	 upon	 the	 sight	 of	 the	 celebration	 of polar	bears.	On	this	rock,	Azaz	reigned	supreme.

“What	have	you	come	to	tell	me	that	I	don’t	already	know?”	Azaz	asked.	He

turned	 his	 great	 snout	 upwards,	 towards	 the	 hawk	 lords	 that	 circled	 overhead.

“Even	 we	 have	 our	 news.	 The	 great	 Moon	 Shadow,	 leader	 of	 the	 Northern campaign,	 has	 brokered	 a	 peace	 agreement	 with	 her	 slaughterers,	 betraying	 the Ozu	held	sacred	between	all	animals.”

White	Claw	roared,	but	Moon	Shadow	turned	to	him,	and	he	quieted.	“Great

Azaz,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“The	treaty	we	have	sought	came	at	the	price	of	our

blood,	not	yours.	And	it	is	to	protect	all	animal	kind,	including	those	who	cannot protect	themselves.	Before	you	speak	of	treachery,	remember	that	it	was	not	your

kin	that	roasted	in	the	crematories	of	the	North.”

“We	would	have	killed	the	 rulku	first,”	Azaz	said	in	a	great	roar.	He	turned	his eyes	 towards	 the	 celebration	 of	 polar	 bears,	 and	 White	 Claw,	 adding,	 “Or	 have the	bears	of	the	North	lost	their	hunger	for	battle?”

White	Claw	lunged,	roaring	yet	again,	before	saying,	“Presume	nothing	of	me,

local	god.	This	peace	was	brokered	as	law	for	all	animals,	and	all	animals	must

honor	it.”

Azaz	laughed,	and	even	his	laugh	had	a	guttural	growl	to	it.	“That	is	more	like

it,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “I	 see	 the	 readiness	 to	 kill	 in	 your	 eyes.	 That	 is	 how	 I	 would expect	 the	 kings	 of	 the	 North	 to	 act.	 But	 threat	 or	 no	 threat,	 you	 stand surrounded.	More	animals	than	you	know	stand	ready	to	pulverize	you.	Lunge,

and	we	will	kill	you	where	you	stand.	But	I	will	give	you	credit,	wolf	servant.	To come	to	my	mountains	and	try	to	tell	me	what	to	do—that	takes	mettle.”

“We	would	not	dream	of	ordering	you,”	Moon	Shadow	said,	“or	any	animals.

We	are	not	like	the	 rulku. 	But	the	polar	bear	king	White	Claw	is	right.	We	must find	a	way	to	work	with	the	 rulku	until	we	can	soundly	defeat	them.	We	in	the North	 fear	 that	 Azaz	 strikes	 too	 early	 and	 too	 hard.	 Azaz’s	 reckless	 campaign calls	too	much	attention	to	us	and	costs	too	many	of	our	lives.	We	would	have

the	 great	 Azaz	 consider	 that	 the	 action	 of	 one	 animal	 affects	 the	 lives	 of	 all others,	a	lesson	the	 rulku	chose	to	ignore.	Please,	great	king,	let	us	work	together and	not	turn	animal	upon	animal	the	way	the	 rulku	turn	on	themselves,	hunting themselves	into	extinction.	To	do	so	would	be	madness.”

Azaz	snorted	and	then	roared,	“You	speak	well,	little	wolf	queen,	but	my	scars

speak	better.	I	know	firsthand	what	the	 rulku	can	and	will	do.	They	will	not	stop until	they	hunt	us	and	this	planet	into	extinction.	They	must	perish	for	the	new

order	of	animals	to	arise.”

“To	kill	all	the	 rulku	would	make	us	no	better	than	them,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

“We	must	find	a	middle	path,	a	better	way,	for	this	world	to	survive.”

“There	 we	 differ,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “Even	 one	 living	 rulku	 is	 a	 plague	 upon	 the earth.	 Once,	 they	 cowered	 before	 us.	 They	 drew	 our	 images	 in	 pigment	 upon their	caves.	They	worshiped	us.	Before	we	became	weak.	Before	they	drove	us

from	our	caves	and	slaughtered	us	for	our	fur.	Before	the	madness	settled	upon



their	eyes,	and	they	created	this	abomination	of	a	world.	I	tell	you	now,”	Azaz

said,	 projecting	 his	 voice	 towards	 his	 conclave	 of	 grizzlies,	 wild	 dogs,	 and hawks,	“that	we	will	cleanse	this	world,	razing	their	shelters	and	toppling	their

steel	 beasts,	 making	 the	 world	 over	 in	 our	 own	 image.	 Only	 then	 will	 there	 be the	 peace	 you	 speak	 of.”	 Azaz	 returned	 to	 all	 fours,	 ambling	 towards	 Moon Shadow.	 He	 softened	 his	 tone	 a	 bit	 as	 he	 added,	 “Young	 wolf	 who	 speaks	 so bravely—in	 time,	 you	 will	 see	 that	 I	 am	 right.	 In	 time,	 we	 will	 join	 our	 two armies	and	the	other	armies	of	the	world.	We	will	strike	hard,	we	will	strike	first, and	we	will	strike	last.	And	we	will	feast	on	man	flesh	together.”

White	 Claw	 snarled	 before	 Sky	 Death	 flew	 down.	 “Come,”	 Sky	 Death	 said.

“Let	us	pay	our	host	a	respectful	goodbye	and	be	on	our	way.”

Azaz	 growled	 at	 White	 Claw,	 saying,	 “Go	 like	 a	 good	 little	 bear	 and	 follow your	wolf	home.”

Both	Moon	Shadow	and	White	Claw	tensed	up,	as	if	ready	to	pounce.

“Come,”	Sky	Death	said	again.	“We	have	much	to	discuss.	Let	us	leave	here

as	friends.”

“This	 buzzard,	 this	 harbinger	 of	 death,	 is	 the	 wisest	 among	 you,”	 Azaz	 said.

“Leave	 now,	 but	 consider	 yourselves	 welcome	 only	 when	 you	 come	 back	 to

fight.”

Calming	ever	so	slightly,	the	militia	of	the	North	turned	back.	Moon	Shadow

ordered	her	wolves	to	stand	down.	White	Claw	ordered	his	polar	bears	back	to

the	march.	When	they	had	walked	many	miles	in	many	hours	of	silence,	past	the

range	of	Azaz	and	his	spies,	Moon	Shadow	was	the	first	to	speak.

“Why	 did	 you	 fly	 down	 like	 that?”	 Moon	 Shadow	 asked	 Sky	 Death.	 “Azaz

respects	only	strength.	Not	retreat,”	she	said.

Sky	Death	replied,	“Azaz’s	eyes	were	not	like	our	eyes.	His	nanobots	are	not

like	 our	 own.	 They	 are	 different,	 with	 a	 reddish	 hue.	 The 	 Rapsys	 was	 not	 the same	for	him.	There	is	no	reasoning	with	a	mad	bear.	And	that	is	what	we	have

on	 our	 hands,	 I’m	 afraid.	 A	 mad	 bear	 king.	 In	 time,	 we	 will	 have	 to	 deal	 with him.	But	not	here.	Not	today.	We	are	not	enough	in	number.	And	we	are	not	the

killers	he	is.”

White	 Claw	 roared	 his	 dismay,	 but	 little	 else	 was	 said.	 In	 their	 silence,	 the animals	knew	that	Sky	Death	was	right.

Ty-Wree

The	Great	Axial	Off	Of	The	Pacific	Coast

Nurvlyn	 watched	 the	 dolphins	 swim	 in	 summons	 and	 half	 thought	 that	 they might	 be	 conjuring	 the	 king	 of	 the	 ocean	 in	 the	 fire	 waters	 of	 the	 North.	 But there	was	only	a	slight	rumbling,	as	of	a	thousand	minnows,	while	the	nanobots

circled	 beneath	 the	 waters.	 The	 nanobots	 already	 sparkled	 in	 a	 citrine	 hue, camouflaged	 against	 the	 opaque	 blue	 of	 the	 endless	 undulations	 below.	 A	 vast network	was	forming,	one	capable,	in	crude	approximations,	of	translating	whale

song	for	the	ears	of	just	one	man.

“So,	 here	 Mankin	 comes	 at	 last,	 seeking	 my	 knowledge,”	 a	 great,	 magnified voice	said	in	the	gentlest	notes	it	could	muster.

The	fractured	rhythms	of	whale	song	stumbled	upon	the	rudimentary	nature	of

language.	 Even	 the	 nanobots	 struggled	 to	 encapsulate	 every	 nuance,	 every

emotion,	into	the	rigid	lettering	of	 Osine	words.

“Single	 creature,	 in	 all	 the	 multiverse,	 unfolding	 continuously	 before	 all	 of Creation,	what	have	you	to	say	to	these	ancient	ears	worthy	of	taking	one	minute

away	from	the	song	of	the	sea?”

Nurvlyn	bowed	in	deference	to	this	new,	limitless	mind.

“I	 remember	 when	 your	 ancestors	 swam	 among	 us,	 before	 you	 were	 as	 you

are	now:	separate,”	the	voice	said,	resounding	like	God	upon	the	waters.	“Speak

now,	 master	 of	 the	 monkeys.	 The	 voice	 and	 ears	 of	 King	 Blu	 are	 yours	 for	 a moment	only.”

“King	 Blu,”	 Nurvlyn	 said,	 bowing	 his	 head	 in	 homage.	 “My	 mind	 is	 not	 as your	 mind.	 Sing	 but	 a	 single	 note	 at	 full	 volume,	 and	 I	 would	 crumble	 to	 the sea.”

“So	 would	 all	 of	 Creation.	 Answer	 briefly—what	 would	 you	 have	 of	 me?”

King	Blu	asked.

“I	come	to	seek	your	wisdom	and	your	aid,”	Nurvlyn	said,	still	bowing.	“For	a

creature	 that	 nearly	 hunted	 my	 kin	 into	 extinction,	 who	 threatens	 us	 all	 now—

that	is	rather	bold	of	you,	don’t	you	think?”	King	Blu	asked.	“It	is	I	who	put	the nanobots	 to	 the	 cleaning	 of	 our	 waters.	 Your	 kind	 could	 not	 be	 bothered,	 not even	for	the	womb	that	gave	life	to	all.”

“Great	king,”	Nurvlyn	said	in	supplication.	“I	seek	your	help	in	aiding	the	first

steps	 in	 the	 evolution	 of	 creatures	 who	 have	 done	 you	 no	 harm,	 but	 who	 stand between	the	 rulku	and	the	waters	of	the	world.”

“Quite	the	paradox,	aren’t	you,	strange	creature?	Not	quite	 rulku,	but	not	quite animal	either.”

“I	am…becoming,”	Nurvlyn	said.

“Becoming	what?”

“All	that	is.”

The	nanobots	danced	in	lurid	gold.	“Under	the	learning	tree	of	Methuselah,	I

see.”

“It	is	Methuselah	who	sent	me.”

King	Blu	paused,	processing	the	weight	of	Nurvlyn’s	claim.	“For	a	tree	to	take

notice	of	a	half- rulku,	that	is	rare.	Speak	to	your	purpose.”

Nurvlyn	 took	 a	 misty	 breath,	 holding	 onto	 the	 wetness	 of	 the	 air	 before saying,	 “The	 Army	 of	 the	 North	 is	 outnumbered.	 The	 rulku	 will	 come	 down upon	 them	 with	 bloody	 fury	 where	 they	 make	 their	 stand.	 In	 the	 land	 they	 call Nunavut.”

“Icy	waters.	Far	from	the	world	I	circle.”

“But	 not	 from	 those	 under	 your	 dominion.	 The	 great	 orca	 swam	 once	 in

warning.	But	now	they	listen,	as	all	creatures	of	the	sea,	to	King	Blu.”

“Yet,	 the	 world	 above	 the	 waters	 fails	 to	 listen.	 In	 the	 ocean,	 we	 achieved	 a perfect	balance	of	all	life.	Everything	serves	the	greater	purpose,	the	 Ozu. 	I	am not	sure	that	I	can	disrupt	that	peace	to	help	creatures	who	harvest	us.	In	fact,	I am	 not	 so	 sure	 that	 any	 above	 waters	 deserve	 the	 air	 they	 breathe	 so	 much	 as those	who	swim	below.”

Nurvlyn	thought	for	a	moment,	unable	to	counter	the	point	the	notes	of	King

Blu	 made.	 In	 the	 song—diluted	 a	 thousandfold	 for	 human	 ears—there	 were

undulations	of	agony,	a	feeling	of	loss	for	so	many	fish,	crustaceans,	and	whales

needlessly	devoured.

“I	 am	 afraid	 that	 even	 in	 his	 vast	 wisdom,	 King	 Blu	 underestimates	 the potential	of	the	 rulku, ”	Nurvlyn	said.	“When	the	new	order	arises,	the	age	of	the animal,	the	 rulku	will	still	have	a	seat	at	the	table.	Better	that	they	learn	from	the whales	and	use	what	wisdom	they	have	for	a	peaceful	transition.”

“The	 heart	 of	 the	 rulku	 is	 never	 one	 of	 peace.	 Nor	 are	 the	 hearts	 of	 their landling	rivals.”

“But	the	 rulku	are	your	children,	however	far	removed,”	Nurvlyn	argued,	“just as	the	animal	tribes	of	the	land	are.	A	war	is	on	the	horizon.	Only	the	shifting	of balance,	 only	 the	 power	 of	 the	 ocean,	 can	 bring	 peace	 from	 total	 annihilation before	the	last	hour	comes.”

“I	will	consider	what	you	have	said,	wizard,”	the	voice	of	King	Blu	sang.	“But

my	mind	is	on	the	great	inevitability.	At	once,	I	must	weigh	the	animals	of	the

surface	against	the	pollution	of	our	waters,	reprogram	the	nanobots	to	clean	what

damage	has	been	done,	create	a	code	for	the	animals	that	evolve,	decide	the	fate

of	the	land	creatures,	and	search	out	new	life,	a	new	home,	for	when	this	planet

is	no	more,”	King	Blu	said.	“The	 rulku	have	spent	so	little	or	their	resources	on these	matters	and	so	many	resources	on	greed	and	destruction.	I	must	go.	I	have

given	this	enough	time.”

“Thank	 you,	 great	 king,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “I	 am	 honored	 to	 have	 spoken	 with



you.”

“Shaman,	your	death	is	closer	than	you	know,”	King	Blu	sang.	“As	the	god	of

death,	I	should	know.”

“Permit	 part	 of	 me,	 when	 cremated,	 to	 feed	 your	 fish	 and	 your	 waters,”

Nurvlyn	said.	“I	hope	the	rest	will	become	like	Methuselah.”

“Strange	monkey,”	King	Blu	said,	“your	heart	is	the	heart	of	a	whale,	but	your

fate	is	far	different	from	any	you	can	imagine.	Know	before	you	transition	that,

by	my	calculations,	war	among	the	animals	is	inevitable,	but	peace	is	the	greater

inevitability.	 From	 the	 battles	 that	 follow	 will	 come	 a	 standing	 peace	 that	 your soul	 will	 feel	 but	 that	 you	 will	 never	 live	 to	 see.	 I	 will	 bring	 that	 peace—by whatever	means	necessary.”

With	that,	the	dancing	citrine	bots	disappeared,	and	the	waters,	for	a	moment,

were	what	they	once	were:	natural	and	pure.





CHAPTER	8

Zukul-Ryle

Washington,	D.C.,	USA

Hunter	 General	 Brigand	 shook	 his	 head	 as	 the	 video	 played	 before	 his	 men.

Azaz	The	Bear	God	led	a	charge	of	bears	straight	into	the	heart	of	a	makeshift

plains	 city,	 Silver	 Mountain,	 the	 last	 human	 establishment	 left	 in	 the	 mighty Rockies.	In	each	 attack,	the	bear	 warriors	grew	more	 aggressive,	mauling	even

the	 children	 who	 stood	 in	 their	 path.	 Azaz,	 the	 largest	 animal	 the	 general	 had ever	 seen,	 stood	 as	 high	 on	 his	 hind	 legs	 as	 he	 could,	 blood	 on	 his	 fangs, growling	 at	 the	 cameras	 in	 a	 primitive	 form	 of	 Osine. 	 The	 general	 turned	 to Fowler,	who	even	now	bore	the	frost	of	Nunavut	upon	his	skin.	Fowler	met	his

eyes	and	thought	for	a	minute.

“Well?”	 Brigand	 asked.	 “You	 spoke	 with	 the	 beasts.	 You	 said	 it	 went	 well.”

“Not	all	factions	are	the	same,”	Fowler	said,	simply.	“Moon	Shadow	sent	word.

They	 were	 unable	 to	 come	 to	 terms	 with	 Azaz.	 Her	 representative,	 Sky	 Death, warned	us	of	the	attacks.”

Brigand	 called	 up	 footage	 of	 Zulta	 and	 Yorba	 The	 Ape	 King	 attacking	 a

settlement.	“I	think	the	animals	are	playing	us	for	fools,”	he	said.	“Look	at	this and	tell	me	they	don’t	have	a	common	vision	of	a	world	without	us.”

Fowler	shook	his	head.	“We	needn’t	make	this	war	any	bigger	than	it	has	to

be,”	he	said,	“if	we	want	to	win.”

“A	 military	 strategist	 now,	 are	 you?”	 Brigand	 said.	 “You	 had	 one	 job:	 to negotiate	 a	 treaty.	 But	 now	 we	 can	 plainly	 see	 these	 animals	 have	 no	 sense	 of bestial	honor.	And	now	you	want	to	tell	me	how	to	fight	this	war?”

“There	isn’t	a	world	war	yet,	unless	we	make	it	one,”	Fowler	said.

“Oh,	 really?	 What	 was	 the	 big,	 scarred	 monster	 growling	 about?”	 Brigand

said,	pointing	to	a	still	shot	of	Azaz.	“Sounds	like	war	to	me.”

“Azaz	 declared	 The	 Rocky	 Mountains	 the	 land	 of	 the	 bear	 clans,”	 Fowler

answered.	He	took	a	moment	to	look	at	the	blood-stained	bear	on	the	screen.	“He

also	called	on	his	brethren	in	the	Northwest	to	rise	and	join	him.”

“In	what?	More	slaughter?”

“In	a	war	against	humanity,”	Fowler	said.	“I’ve	never	met	Azaz	in	battle,”	he

added.	“But	look	at	his	eyes.	I	recognize	a	killer	when	I	see	one.	Azaz	will	never stop	killing	until	we	kill	him.	The	hunger	to	kill	will	haunt	him	always.	And	the

moment	we	execute	the	bears	and	their	leader,	we	tip	the	balance,	giving	the	rest

of	the	animal	kingdom	a	reason	to	declare	all-out	war.”

Brigand	 studied	 Fowler	 for	 a	 moment,	 unable	 to	 believe	 that	 so	 blunt	 an assessment	 could	 come	 from	 such	 an	 animal	 sympathizer.	 He	 softened	 for	 a moment,	saying,	“You	are	right.	The	blood	of	too	many	of	these	beasts	is	on	my

hands.	 That	 blood	 will	 never	 come	 clean.	 But	 the	 blood	 of	 our	 children—what better	reason	is	there	to	kill?”

Fowler	 shook	 his	 head,	 leaning	 towards	 Brigand	 and	 saying,	 “You	 and	 I	 are not	the	same.	You	think	in	terms	of	battles.	I	think	in	terms	of	wars.	We	should

honor	the	treaty	we	are	forging	with	the	animals	of	the	North	and	give	them	their

territory	 to	 show	 that	 we	 can	 be	 reasonable.	 And	 then	 we	 should	 make	 every offer	of	peace	to	Azaz,	all	the	while	planning	to	wipe	him	from	the	earth.	That’s

our	only	chance	of	survival.	We	must	stand	strong	against	the	likes	of	Azaz	and

Yorba	and	stay	peaceful	towards	the	other	animals,	recognizing	their	rights.”

Brigand	laughed.	“You	sound	like	you	think	these	animals	stand	a	chance!”	he

exclaimed.

Fowler	closed	his	eyes	and	concentrated.	“I	can	feel	something,	something	in

the	 Ozu	 that	 connects	 all	 living	 creatures,”	 he	 said.	 “There	 is	 an	 intelligence	 in the	ocean,	one	so	vast,	we	won’t	be	able	to	withstand	it.	It’s	watching,	inventing, reinventing	our	world.	War	may	be	inevitable,	sir.	But	our	survival	is	not.	This

war	 is	 our	 opportunity	 to	 show	 what	 peaceful	 creatures	 we	 can	 be	 if	 we	 can contain	 the	 damage.	 Whatever	 this	 intelligence	 is,	 it	 will	 be	 stronger	 after	 the land	creatures	wipe	themselves	out.	We	will	need	all	the	allies	that	we	can	get.”

Brigand	 grew	 quiet	 and	 nodded.	 “The	 oceans	 are	 vast,”	 he	 agreed.	 “If	 this contamination	has	spread	to	the	waters,	we	can’t	win	this	war	without	killing	far

too	many	living	things.”

“So,	what	do	we	do,	Hunter	General	Brigand?”	Brigand’s	assistant	asked.

Brigand	 sat	 for	 a	 moment,	 staring	 at	 the	 pictures.	 “Fowler	 is	 right,”	 he	 said.

“Let’s	draw	up	further	treaties	first,	if	only	to	give	ourselves	more	time	to	figure out	how	to	coordinate	with	our	allies.	Start	with	Azaz.	We	should	offer	him	and

his	 bears	 amnesty	 if	 they	 stay	 contained	 in	 The	 Rockies	 as	 far	 West	 as Washington,	Oregon,	and	California.	Meanwhile,	Fowler,	I	will	need	you	and	the

rest	of	the	hunters	to	form	a	border	by	Silver	Mountain.	Assume	that	Azaz	will

attack	you	next.”

Fowler	nodded.

“Do	you	think	you	can	take	him?”	Brigand	asked.

Fowler	shook	his	head.	“He’s	far	too	powerful	for	me	to	take	on	in	combat,”



he	answered	honestly.	“But	if	you	provide	the	nanotechnology	to	make	the	kill,

my	men	and	women	can	get	it	where	it	needs	to	be.”

Brigand	shook	his	head.	“The	world’s	gone	to	hell,”	he	said,	“and	here	we	are,

fighting	 over	 a	 mountain	 of	 ashes.	 Maybe	 the	 animals	 aren’t	 the	 dumb	 beasts after	all.”

With	that,	Brigand	dismissed	his	men.	Fowler	started	searching	the	computer

banks	for	the	hunters	he’d	need.

“Good	luck,”	Brigand	said	to	Fowler.	“Soon	enough,	we	will	all	be	out	there,

on	the	same	cross.”

Fowler	 examined	 the	 wizened	 skin,	 the	 baggy	 eyes,	 the	 wear	 that	 consumed the	 man.	 Fowler	 wanted	 to	 hope	 that	 he	 might	 be	 successful,	 that	 the	 attacks might	be	contained.	But	looking	at	the	bloodied	visage	of	the	bear	king,	Fowler

knew:	Brigand	and	his	staff	were	off	to	plan	a	full-scale	war.

Kywy-Tolyn

Nunavut,	Canada

Sky	Death	flew	over	to	the	animal	delegates,	pointing	out	the	terms	of	the	truce.

More	 animals	 of	 the	 North	 than	 had	 ever	 been	 assembled	 sat	 in	 a	 circle	 in	 the holosphere,	 observing	 the	 virtual	 document	 in	 question.	 White	 Claw,	 Moon

Shadow,	and	Thunder	Killer	whispered	among	each	other,	as	did	Snow	Prophet

and	Pale	Ghost,	once	bitter	enemies.	Crimson	Fang	and	Silver	Snake	kept	quiet.

“If	 we	 agree,”	 Sky	 Death	 said,	 “any	 roaming	 beyond	 this	 land	 they	 call Nunavut	constitutes	an	act	of	war.”

“So,	 my	 otters	 can	 only	 swim	 so	 far	 in	 their	 rivers.	 And	 what	 are	 their limitations?”	Silver	Snake	asked.

“The	 rulku	 will	 remove	 all	 human	 sites	 along	 Nunavut	 and	 take	 their	 steel beasts	 and	 magic	 with	 them,”	 Sky	 Death	 said.	 “Any	 extermination	 camps	 will cease	 operation	 immediately.	 The	 rulku	 will	 recognize	 us	 as	 the	 country	 of Animus, 	first	among	the	animal	nations.	The	treaty	will	give	us	a	voice	to	speak for 	 animal	kind	in	the	affairs	of	men.”

“So	 the	 treaty	 says,”	 Crimson	 Fang	 said.	 “Come,	 come,	 my	 brothers	 and

sisters,	are	we	to	believe	the	word	of	our	killers?”

Crimson	Fang	roamed	up	to	the	front	of	the	assembly,	ambling	with	disregard

around	the	holographic	council.

“Listen	to	the	warnings	the	 Ozu	gives	us,”	he	growled	out.	“I	can	feel	it	in	the

thick	of	my	blood	as	surely	as	any	of	you,	dear	brothers	and	sisters.	The	 rulku realize	 that	 Azaz	 The	 Mad	 Grizzly	 King	 presents	 a	 threat	 to	 the	 West.	 If 	 they pacify	us,	they	can	kill	the	rogue	bear	soldiers	before	they	focus	their	efforts	on exterminating	us.	I	have	seen	such	diversions	in	the	hunt	before,	my	friends,	and

I	assure	you,	it	never	ends	well	for	the	prey.”

“Crimson	 Fang,	 my	 brother	 coyote,	 speaks	 true,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 says.	 “But

what	he	neglects	to	say	is	that	we	are	not	yet	strong	enough	for	the	onslaught	of

men.	We	must	study	their	magic	and	learn	to	defeat	it.	Arctic	animals	must	form

alliances	 with	 animals	 the	 world	 over.	 We	 must	 use	 this	 time	 to	 build	 up	 our nation	and	our	resources	so	as	not	to	let	the	world	of	 rulku	use	it	as	the	largest refugee	and	extermination	camp	in	the	world.”

“And	let	the	animals	they	assault	pay	the	price	for	it?”	Crimson	Fang	asked.

“If	Azaz	chooses	to	attack,	despite	our	warnings,	then	that	is	his	affair,”

Moon	Shadow	replied.

“So,	it’s	to	be	a	coward’s	peace	before	a	fool’s	war,	is	that	it?”	Crimson	Fang

asked.

“Better	than	a	fool’s	war	followed	by	a	mad	bear’s	genocide,”	Moon	Shadow

responded.

“And	who	are	you	to	speak	for	all	of	us?”	Crimson	Fang	demanded.

“She	 is	 your	 queen,	 coyote,	 and	 you	 would	 do	 well	 to	 remember	 it,”	 White Claw	said.

Crimson	Fang	snarled,	but	returned	to	lie	down.

“Moon	Shadow	speaks	the	truth,”	White	Claw	said.

The	 nanobots	 called	 up	 another	 image,	 one	 of	 the	 Yorba	 The	 Ape	 King

fighting	against	rabid	 rulku	in	the	Congo.	There	was	also	footage	of	Thraxis	the Amazonian	Terror	strangling	an	entire	cohort	of	men	in	South	American	jungles.

Another	image	showed	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare,	the	Great	Panda	Rain	King,

coordinating	 with	 Paihuai	 Zhe,	 the	 Great	 Snow	 Leopard	 Queen,	 to	 assault	 a Chinese	military	arsenal	in	the	Min	Mountains.

“We	are	legion,”	Crimson	Fang	said.

“We	 will	 be,”	 Pale	 Ghost	 added,	 “if	 we	 wait	 and	 then	 strike.	 My	 mice	 hold with	Moon	Shadow,	but	we	must	see	progress.	We	must	form	emissaries	to	meet

with	these	brave	animals	and	form	alliances.”

The	animals	murmured	in	assent.

“That	 is	 where	 my	 eagles	 come	 in,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said.	 “My	 scouts	 are speaking	to	the	seafaring	birds	to	see	who	will	deliver	our	messages	when	we’re

ready.”

“That	is	all	good,	but	we	must	still	strategize,”	Silver	Snake	said,	“and	build

our	defenses	for	when	the	full	war	breaks.”

“Well	 said.	 Before	 the	 next	 winter,”	 White	 Claw	 said,	 “we	 will	 be	 at	 war.

Does	this	satisfy	your	blood	lust	for	now,	eager	coyote?”

“That,”	Crimson	Fang	said,	“would	be	acceptable.”

“Then	 it’s	 agreed,”	 White	 Claw	 declared.	 “We	 will	 sign	 the	 treaty	 to	 buy ourselves	more	time.	Moon	Shadow	and	Sky	Death	will	present	this	to	the	world

of	 the	 rulku. 	 In	 the	 meantime,	 Thunder	 Killer	 will	 reach	 out	 to	 form	 alliances and	Crimson	Fang,	you	and	Silver	Snake	will	form	our	military,	in	land,	sky,	and

sea.”

One	 by	 one,	 the	 animal	 kings	 and	 queens	 put	 their	 paws	 on	 the	 virtual document.	And	so,	the	nation	of	 Animus	was	born.





CHAPTER	9

Klang	Uktor

Congo,	Africa

Yorba	shook	his	head	at	the	holographic	news.	He	turned	to	Zulta	and	Gray	Eyes

as	Kama	snarled.	“A	nation?	Please,”	he	said.	“The	 rulku	know	no	boundaries.

They	 will	 use	 these	 poor	 animals	 of	 the	 North	 as	 a	 camp	 to	 relocate	 and eliminate	innocent	animal	populations.”

“My	magic	tells	me	the	same,”	Gray	Eyes	said.	“Yet,	the	 rulku	news	mentions that	 they’ll	 be	 setting	 up	 several	 such	 territories	 across	 the	 world,	 including	 in the	Congo	basin.”

“I	don’t	see	how	we	can	turn	away	from	signing	the	treaty,”	Zulta	said.	“Other

animal	 populations	 of	 the	 world	 have	 reached	 out	 to	 us,	 including	 those	 of Animus. 	They	seek	alliances.	Alliances	take	time.”

“You	can’t	really	mean	to	sign?”	Yorba	asked.	“It	is	a	disgrace	to	any	ape	who

signs	it.”

“We	must	buy	time,”	Zulta	says,	“until	we	can	train	more	animals	and	forge

more	alliances	for	a	larger	militia.	Also,	there	is	something	more.”

Yorba	and	his	band	of	apes	gathered	with	the	lions	around	the	elephant	herd.

“The	 technology	 you	 found	 at	 your	 last	 kill	 site,	 the	 nanotechnology,”	 Zulta said.	 “There	 is	 one	 who	 claims	 he	 can	 reprogram	 the	 magic	 of	 the	 rulku.	 He comes	to	us	through	a	screen	the	poachers	left	behind.”

“It’s	a	trick,”	Yorba	said.	“More	 rulku	evil.	We	should	find	him	and	kill	him.”

“No,”	 Kama	 said,	 half-snarling.	 “I	 have	 heard	 tell	 of	 this	 man	 from	 the animals	 of	 the	 West.	 I	 have	 sensed	 him	 in	 the	 Ozu. 	 They	 call	 this	 man-beast Nurvlyn,	and	they	say	he	is	the	father	of	The	Great	Awakening	that	fell	upon	us

all.”

“Let	 us	 listen,”	 Gray	 Eyes	 said	 with	 a	 slight	 hiss.	 “Whatever	 information	 he has	might	be	of	importance	to	us.”

Zulta	 nodded	 to	 Earl	 The	 Equivocator.	 Earl	 concentrated	 until	 there	 was	 a symbiosis	 with	 the	 nanotechnology	 that	 was	 still	 a	 part	 of	 him.	 The	 other animals	concentrated	too,	until	the	hologram	of	the	thin,	ragged	guru	appeared.

“Welcome,	 animals	 of	 the	 great	 Congo,”	 the	 rulku	 who	 was	 not	 quite	 rulku



said.	“I	am	Nurvlyn.	I	have	seen	the	world	of	the	 rulku	and	the	world	of	the	O zu.

Allow	me	to	reach	out	through	the	great	 Osine	language	that	unites	the	animals with	 a	 message.	 A	 war	 is	 brewing.	 The	 world	 of	 the	 rulku	 is	 coming	 together, and	so	the	animals	must	come	together	if	you	are	to	survive	in	your	awakened

forms.	There	is	one,	a	brilliant	intellect	in	the	ocean,	who	has	the	power	to	wield the	magic	of	the	 rulku. 	This	creature	is	known	only	as	King	Blu.	King	Blu	seeks to	take	your	nanotechnology	and	alter	it,	so	that	you	can	use	it	against	the	 rulku.

With	King	Blu’s	help,	you	will	be	able	to	disarm	the	steel	beasts	that	shield	your attackers.	You	will	be	able	to	make	this	war	be	as	it	should	be,	natural	and	of	the earth.”

“He	lies,”	Yorba	said.	“The	 rulku	want	their	magic	back.	It	must	be	special.”

“If	 you	 have	 no	 reason	 to	 trust	 me,”	 Nurvlyn	 said,	 “trust	 each	 other.	 If	 you wish	to	win	this	war,	you	must	get	Zulta’s	nanotechnology	into	the	ocean.	King

Blu	will	have	emissaries	waiting.	Do	this,	and	you	may	not	just	save	the	animals

of	the	Congo,	but	the	other	awakened	animals	the	world	over.”

“Why	 can	 the	 bots	 not	 simply	 communicate	 without	 getting	 us	 out	 of	 our habitat?”	Zulta	asked.

“King	 Blu	 needs	 to	 experiment	 with	 your	 technology	 to	 find	 answers,”

Nurvlyn	 said.	 “For	 this,	 the	 nanobots	 must	 come	 together	 in	 a	 way	 they	 would not	on	their	own.	Wise	elephant	king,	surely	you	sense	this?”

The	animals	looked	from	one	king	to	another.	The	spider	monkeys	stirred,	and

the	apes	chanted.	Yet,	Kama	and	the	lions	and	tigers	remained	still.

“We	must	all	agree,”	Zulta	said.	“That	is	the	way	of	the	 Ozu.”

Earl	 The	 Equivocator	 gave	 his	 assent	 with	 a	 fluttering	 of	 his	 wings,	 as	 did Kama,	with	a	roar,	and	Gray	Eyes	with	a	hiss.

“Yorba?”	Zulta	asked.

“If	 we	 give	 you	 what	 you	 want,	 what	 can	 you	 give	 us	 as	 collateral?”	 Yorba asked.

“Myself,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “And,	 through	 the	 nanotechnology	 I	 have,	 an

understanding	of	the	enemy.”

The	 apes	 chanted	 at	 the	 danger	 of	 letting	 a	 rulku	 so	 close,	 but	 Yorba	 simply held	up	his	mighty	fist	to	silence	them.

“Let	it	be	so,”	Yorba	said.	“Maybe	it	is	time	to	look	again	at	that	treaty.	This

extra	time	might	be	essential	to	us	if	fewer	of	my	apes	fall	in	war.”

Zulta	nodded.	Again,	the	treaty	came	up	holographically,	and	again	a	vote	was

held.

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

Months	Later

In	 the	 shadows	 of	 her	 dreams,	 Moon	 Shadow	 could	 still	 see	 him:	 a	 lone	 black wolf	running	from	the	edge	of	night.	She	didn’t	remember	exactly	the	first	time

they	 saw	 each	 other.	 Somehow,	 her	 mate	 had	 always	 been	 there,	 like	 clouds along	 the	 edge	 of	 a	 smoky	 horizon.	 The	 wolf	 queen	 called	 him	 Sun	 Shadow, after	 how	 the	 slit	 of	 his	 wolf	 eyes	 held	 the	 shadow	 of	 the	 sun’s	 glorious	 light.

And	in	those	rare	moments	when	they	ran	together,	before	the	great	 Rapsys	that changed	 everything,	 they	 hunted,	 they	 howled,	 they	 mated,	 and	 they	 created	 a home.	Now,	as	Moon	Shadow	dreamed	of	running	alongside	Sun	Shadow	once

again,	of	her	wolf	cubs	running	alongside	of	them,	she	wondered:	Just	where	did

the	magic	of	the	 rulku	end,	and	just	where	did	the	true	Moon	Shadow	begin?	In the	 pressing	 nights	 before	 the	 ratification	 of	 the	 treaty,	 the	 dreams	 had	 slipped over	 her	 like	 night	 itself	 and	 felt	 more	 like	 premonitions:	 but	 of	 what,	 Moon Shadow	 could	 not	 say.	 Still,	 she	 could	 see	 Sun	 Shadow	 running,	 and	 her	 pups with	 him.	 Such	 images	 of	 the	 purity	 of	 life	 before	 the	 world	 fell	 still	 gave	 her peace,	if	only	for	a	moment.

“Queen,”	Sky	Death	said,	approaching	her	den.

“Yes.	What	is	it?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.

“The	 rulku	have	engaged	Azaz	in	the	Rockies.	Treaty	or	no	treaty,	the	war	has begun.”

“Are	there	any	signs	of	 rulku	military	in	our	seas,	lands,	or	skies?”

“Not	as	of	yet,”	Sky	Death	said.	“But	I	am	sure	they	have	their	spies.”

“And	the	other	animal	nations?	Have	they	accepted	our	alliance?”

“Some,	 like	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 in	 Asia	 and	 Zulta	 The	 Elephant	 King	 in Africa,	have.	Others	are	still	quiet.”

“Then	the	 rulku	treaty	served	a	purpose	after	all.”

“Yes,	Queen—if	only	for	a	short	while.”

Moon	Shadow	shook	her	great	white	mane.	“I	was	sleeping	before	you	came,”

she	said.

“Dreaming.	Of	what	used	to	be.	Before	these	thoughts	filled	my	mind.	Before

I	knew	of	time.”

“I	 have	 visions	 of	 that	 too,	 mostly	 of	 flying,”	 Sky	 Vulture	 said,	 “and	 of making	kills.	There	was	a	balance	before	that’s	gone	now.	Yet,	this	new	me,	this

thinking	animal,	imagines	that	on	the	other	side	of	the	coming	war	is	something

better.	We	need	a	world	where	all	animals	can	live	in	balance	with	the	 Ozu. 	That



is	what	I	hate	about	war.	It’s	like	an	endless	hunt	where	all	reason	is 	 lacking.”

“If	reason	was	ever	in	the	 rulku	to	begin	with.	But	tell	me,	Sky	Death,	there	is something	else	in	your	eyes.	What	is	it?”

“The	 rulku	are	pressing	you	to	call	for	Azaz	to	lay	down	arms.	In	their	world, saying	 something,	 even	 when	 you	 do	 nothing,	 carries	 substantial	 weight.	 Their politicians	and	warrior	generals	do	this	all	the	time.”

Moon	Shadow	donned	a	wolfish	smirk.	“So,	we	are	to	be	their	animal	puppet

kingdom,	is	that	it?”	she	asked.	“I	will	draft	a	message	that	all	our	animals	agree to	and	nothing	more.	Tell	the	 rulku	as	much	in	a	way	that	will	pacify	them.	You seem	to	have	a	talent	for	their	kind	of	speaking.”

“Don’t	insult	me	so,”	Sky	Death	said.	“Once	I	realized	that	the	 rulku	language always	 sounds	 like	 an	 animal	 right	 before	 the	 kill,	 it	 made	 sense	 to	 me.	 Their words	are	always	words	of	warning.”

“And	what	do	you	see	now,	in	their	words	of	warning?”

“A	long	and	bloody	war,”	Sky	Death	said,	“one	we’ve	been	fighting	since	the

beginning	of	time.	Only	this	time,	it	is	a	fair	fight.”

“Let	us	hope	that	your	vision	is	as	lacking	as	that	of	the	 rulku, ”	Moon	Shadow said.

“Your	 eminence,”	 Sky	 Death	 said,	 bowing	 his	 head	 and	 taking	 his	 leave.	 “If anyone	can	work	the	miracle	of	peace,”	he	added,	“it	is	you.”

With	 that,	 Sky	 Death	 flew	 from	 the	 den.	 Moon	 Shadow	 watched.	 In	 that

moment	 lie	 billions	 of	 years	 of	 evolution,	 from	 the	 smallest	 microorganisms forming	to	the	animals	of	today.	Moon	Shadow,	like	an	ancient	Roman	priestess

watching	 eagles	 of	 old,	 took	 it	 as	 a	 sign.	 There	 was	 only	 one	 path	 now,	 and everything	 depended	 upon	 following	 it.	 Yet,	 a	 part	 of	 her,	 the	 mother	 in	 her, wished	for	one	more	day	of	good	hunting,	for	one	more	day	away	from	the	 rulku

and	the	madness	of	war.





CHAPTER	10

Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

Images	poured	down	upon	the	Fowler’s	digital	lenses	like	bats	in	the	night	sky.

Thraxis’	 nanobots	 authorized	 the	 treaty’s	 digital	 signatures	 to	 the	 south.	 The Golden	Nightmare	signed	for	the	animals	of	the	Min	Mountains	to	the	east.	Zulta

The	Great	signed	for	those	of	the	Congo,	as	did	so	many	of	the	animal	chieftains

across	the	world.	And	yet,	as	Fowler	saw	the	world	reinventing	itself,	he	knew

that	 the	 only	 corner	 of	 the	 wild	 he	 needed	 to	 concern	 himself	 was	 the	 tiny ascending	paths	that	led	up	to	the	mythical	lair	of	the	bear	who	would	be	a	god.

Fowler	 had	 stalked	 the	 forests	 for	 hours.	 He	 had	 searched	 through	 the	 great redwoods	 that	 stood	 like	 sentries	 of	 a	 primeval	 world,	 sheltering	 Silver Mountain.	Fowler	signaled	his	hunters	and	closed	in.	Through	snow	and	ice,	up

the	rocks	that	settled	like	mesh	armor	upon	the	curves	of	the	mountain,	he	and

his	 men	 marched.	 Bloody	 paw	 prints	 surrounded	 Fowler	 in	 the	 snow.

Unawakened	 trees	 featured	 the	 sign	 of	 The	 Blood	 Paw,	 which	 looked,	 with	 its running	residue,	like	a	curved	swastika	spilling	over	the	mighty	redwoods.	Even

the	clan	of	bear	soldiers	off	somewhere,	a	river	or	mountain	patch	over,	bore	the

name.	It	was	the	clan	of	Azaz	The	Killer,	the	giant	grizzly	few	human	eyes	had

ever	lived	to	see.

A	thrush	flew	by.	Fowler,	silent,	kept	to	his	defenses.	He	knew	that	Azaz	had

spies	 everywhere.	 Azaz	 would	 already	 smell	 the	 sweat	 of	 fear.	 Azaz	 would already	 hear	 the	 faint	 buzz	 of	 the	 nanobots	 that	 served	 as	 a	 second	 shield	 to Fowler	and	his	hunters.	And	so,	Fowler	and	his	men	crept	along,	hoping	to	catch

a	 few	 bear	 sentries	 out	 away	 from	 the	 perimeter	 between	 Silver	 Mountain	 and Bear	Pass,	the	bloody	way	to	Azaz’s	throne.

“Sargeant,”	one	of	Fowler’s	men	said	through	the	nanobots.

Fowler	signaled	with	a	thrust	of	his	hand.	The	soldier	stood	perfectly	still.	Not

three	 redwoods	 over,	 two	 sentries	 huffed	 to	 each	 other	 as	 they	 carried	 prey	 on their	 backs.	 The	 bodies	 of	 children	 lay,	 secured	 by	 the	 nanobots,	 along	 with	 a few	 river	 dwellers	 like	 beaver	 and	 otter.	 Fowler	 ordered	 his	 nanobots	 to	 take pictures.	 Only	 documented	 carnage	 to	 other	 animals	 might	 sway	 the	 tide.	 Just

then,	 a	 soldier’s	 breath	 took	 to	 the	 air,	 and	 the	 bear	 sentries	 stood	 still.	 The grizzlies	stood	up	on	their	haunches,	sniffing	the	frozen	night	air	around	them.

“Rulku, ”	one	bear	growled	at	the	other.

With	 that,	 Fowler	 waved	 over	 his	 men.	 The	 hunters	 surrounded	 the	 two

sentries,	hitting	them	with	tranquilizers.	The	bear	nanobots	scrambled	to	protect

their	hosts.	It	was	of	little	use.	The	darts,	equipped	to	pierce	even	steel,	wedged through	the	spidery	nanobots	and	into	fur	and	skin.	The	bear	sentries	stood	up	to

growl,	but	the	drugs	did	their	work	quickly.	In	silence,	the	bears	collapsed.

“Get	 the	 nanotechnology	 from	 them,”	 Fowler	 ordered.	 “Quickly.	 There’s	 no

time.”

“Sir,	there’s	more!”	one	of	Fowler’s	men	cried.	“It’s	not	a	clan.	It’s	an	army!”

On	 the	 peaks	 above,	 standing	 on	 their	 haunches,	 were	 massive	 bears	 that	 had nanobots	 wrapped	 around	 them	 in	 a	 kind	 of	 armor.	 Their	 eyes	 glowed	 purple, then	red,	in	the	darkness	of	the	trees.	Fowler	couldn’t	count	the	exact	number	of

stationed	bears,	but	he	counted	at	least	twenty-five.

“Move	 the	 targets	 out—quickly,”	 Fowler	 said	 to	 his	 men.	 “Let	 them	 come

down	to	us.	You,”	he	ordered	a	dozen	other	hunters.	“Keep	a	perimeter	directly

behind	us.	Follow	us	down.”

Fowler’s	 men	 retreated	 down	 the	 slope	 with	 the	 bears,	 towards	 the	 larger militias	 at	 Silver	 Mountain.	 Hunters	 behind	 them	 gathered	 up	 streams	 of

technology,	seeking	to	ride	the	air	currents	back	up	to	their	bear	masters.

There	 was	 a	 deep	 growl,	 half-bear,	 half-monster,	 somewhere	 in	 the	 woods.

The	 Blood	 Paw	 held	 their	 ground,	 like	 generals	 mounted	 above	 the	 field	 of battle.	Smaller	grizzly	patrols	ran	after	the	 rulku	at	an	accelerated	speed.	Fowler shot	 at	 their	 armored	 legs.	 His	 ammunition	 overcharged	 the	 circuits	 of	 the nanotechnology,	until	the	spidery	nanobots	fell	into	electrical	spasms,	tumbling

off	the	bears,	down	the	mountain.	The	bears	charged	anyway.	Fowler	waved	his

arms,	signaling	them	to	stop,	but	the	assault	was	on.	The	hunter	sergeant	and	his

perimeter	 of	 men	 shot	 down	 the	 bears.	 Fowler	 turned	 to	 run,	 to	 cover	 his	 men and	the	nanotechnology	they	protected.	He	heard	the	same	growl	as	before,	like

death	 tearing	 the	 night	 sky	 asunder.	 This	 time,	 the	 cry	 reverberated	 directly between	them	and	Silver	Mountain,	shaking	the	leaves	nestled	in	the	oak	trees.

Fowler	 looked	 down	 to	 the	 militia	 at	 Silver	 Mountain,	 only	 to	 hear,	 but	 not see,	 the	 attacks.	 If	 bleeding	 wounds,	 lost	 limbs,	 and	 being	 eaten	 alive	 had	 a sound,	 a	 ratcheting	 thunder,	 it	 came	 from	 the	 tiny	 town	 overrun	 with	 unnatural bears.	Fowler	saw	hundreds,	maybe	thousands,	attacking	the	best	of	his	men	in

the	night.	And	coming	up	towards	him,	with	a	limb	falling	from	his	mighty	jaws,

was	 the	 largest	 bear	 Fowler	 had	 ever	 seen,	 standing	 on	 his	 haunches,	 blood	 all around	 his	 teeth	 and	 jaw.	 The	 bear	 king	 had	 the	 thickest	 armor	 of	 nanobots



Fowler	had	ever	witnessed.	His	growl	became	like	uncontrolled	thunder	tearing

its	way	up	from	the	heart	of	the	earth.

“I	am	the	bloody	tide	of	fortune,”	the	bear	king’s	nanobots	said	as	he	rose	to

his	full	height.	“I	am	death.”

“Azaz,”	Fowler	said,	marveling,	“in	the	flesh.”	He	signaled	for	his	men	to	set

their	 sights	 on	 this	 one	 bear.	 “I	 want	 every	 gun	 firing	 on	 this	 bear—now,”	 he ordered.

The	men	fired,	but	the	armor	held	off	even	their	most	specialized	technology.

Azaz	 swiped.	 With	 each	 swipe,	 a	 stream	 of	 electrified	 nanobots	 swept	 like	 the end	of	a	mace	at	the	soldiers.	They	flew	back,	propelled	by	an	electrical	storm.

The	 Blood	 Paw	 swooped	 down	 in	 a	 few	 giant	 strides,	 tearing	 what	 was	 left	 of Fowler’s	militia	to	shreds.

In	moments,	there	was	no	one	standing	between	Fowler	and	Azaz.	Fowler	saw

a	sea	of	blood	and	bodies	all	down	the	mountain,	to	the	town	below.	He	closed

his	eyes,	connecting	with	his	nanobots,	ordering	them	to	deliver	a	shocking	blow

against	 his	 attacker.	 But	 against	 Azaz	 and	 his	 technology,	 the	 nanobots	 could only	defend,	holding	off	Azaz’s	otherwise	mortal	blows.

Azaz	stood	over	the	fallen	Fowler	and	lurched	forward.	“What	have	we	here?”

he	 asked.	 “Neither	 beast	 nor	 rulku, 	 neither	 animal	 nor	 machine.	 Nurvlyn,”	 he said.	“I	thought	you	were	a	myth.”

In	a	single,	sweeping	motion,	Azaz	turned	himself	around,	towards	the	last	of

the	 nanobots	 that	 flew	 through	 the	 air,	 back	 towards	 the	 rulku, 	 and	 said,	 “Men and	 women	 of	 the	 world,	 your	 slavery	 of	 the	 animal	 world	 is	 at	 its	 end.	 Even your	prophet,	your	puppet	wizard,	Nurvlyn,	conspires	against	us.	Animals	from

Animus	and	the	world	over	look	and	learn.	It	is	Azaz	who	protects	animals,	who makes	 them	 strong.	 Join	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 in	 declaring	 war	 against	 all	 rulku, 	 in cleansing	the	earth	with	their	blood!”

With	that,	Azaz	delivered	a	single,	profound	blow	to	Fowler’s	skull,	and	this

strange	half-man,	half-beast	hunter	blacked	out.

Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

Fowler	felt	the	sting	of	claws	embedded	into	the	wounds	that	still	bled	into	the

rock	 beneath	 his	 head.	 The	 heavy,	 measured	 breathing,	 the	 warbling	 growls	 of the	 massive	 grizzly	 king	 kept	 him	 pinned	 to	 the	 rock	 as	 much	 as	 his	 pain	 did.

Fowler	lifted	his	head,	only	to	see	the	nanobots	pinning	his	extremities	to	the	dirt mouth	of	the	cave	floor.

“Prophet,	can	you	foresee	your	own	death?”	Azaz	asked.

“Azaz,”	Fowler	whispered,	half	in	fear,	half	in	deference.

“Long	have	I	heard	your	voice	in	my	head,	prophet.	That	voice	dies	tonight.”

Azaz	lurched	forward.	His	hulking	shadow	eclipsed	the	man	beneath	him,	as

if	 it	 was	 a	 perversion	 of	 the	 old	 Neanderthal	 drawings	 that	 once	 adorned	 cave walls.

“I	 am	 not	 who	 you	 think	 I	 am,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “I	 am	 a	 hunter.	 I	 hunt	 out	 of necessity.	Not	out	of	madness.	I	don’t	thirst	for	blood	as	you	do.”

Azaz’s	growl	turned	into	a	snicker.	“You	who	hunt	the	world	and	its	creatures

into	extinction	call	me	mad?”	Azaz	asked.	“The	history	of	the	world	is	written	in

the	blood	of	the	animals.	The	future	of	the	world	is	written	in	the	blood	of	Man.

When	 we	 wash	 the	 earth	 clean	 with	 the	 blood	 of	 the	 rulku,	 the	 world	 will	 see things	quite	differently,	I’m	sure.”

Fowler	kept	his	gaze	on	the	two,	nearly	spherical,	bright	red	eyes	fixed	in	the

darkness	 before	 him.	 The	 breathing	 grew	 raspier,	 but	 the	 growls	 held	 their consistency	as	the	great	bear	spoke.

“What	holds	your	paw?”	Fowler	asked.	“Strike	now	and	be	done	with	it.”	“All

in	 good	 time,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “First,	 there	 are	 some	 questions	 that	 must	 be answered.”

“I’d	rather	die.”

“Pain,”	Azaz	said,	“can	be	a	compelling	master.”

Azaz	swiped	Fowler’s	skull	against	the	rock	once	more.	Deafening	growls—

an	entire	chorus	of	them—rose	like	a	sickly	psalm	from	the	clan	of	The	Blood

Paw	that	surrounded	their	leader.

“But	fear	not.	It	is	not	you	who	will	do	the	answering.	Now,”	Azaz	ordered	his

own	nanobots.	“Descend.	Get	his	nanotechnology.	All	of	it.”

Weakened	by	the	concussive	blows,	Fowler	lie	powerless.

“How	 ironic,	 hunter,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “First,	 you	 were	 the	 father	 of	 us	 all.	 Now, you	will	sire	your	own	genocide.”

“I	told	you:	I’m	not	Nurvlyn.	I’ve	never	met	the	man.	He	is	alive,	well	away

from	here.”

“Not	for	long.”

“You	 could	 stop	 this.	 The	 coming	 war.	 You	 could	 balance	 things.	 Set	 them right.”

Azaz	 growled	 something	 of	 a	 laugh.	 “You	 disturbed	 the	 balance	 when	 you

became	 something	 more	 than	 lunch,”	 he	 said.	 “This	 paw	 will	 set	 The	 Great Balance	right.”

“Foolish	beast—you	had	your	chance.”

Fowler	 smirked	 through	 the	 blood	 that	 washed	 his	 face.	 He	 closed	 his	 eyes and	 concentrated.	 The	 nanotechnology	 Azaz	 had	 summoned	 sparked	 in	 reds,

purples	 and	 golds.	 Azaz	 felt	 the	 pain	 as	 Fowler’s	 nanobots	 prayed	 on	 Azaz’s, trapping	the	bear	king	in	a	small	shower	of	electricity.

“You	need	to	learn	why	things	work	as	they	do,”	Fowler	said.	“My	nanobots

are	my	own—not	yours	to	control.”

Fowler	 grabbed	 a	 shard	 of	 stone	 from	 the	 floor	 of	 the	 cave.	 He	 closed	 his eyes,	summoning	his	nanobots,	who	left	the	body	of	the	bear	king,	returning	to

their	 host.	 Azaz	 fell,	 overwhelmed	 by	 the	 shock.	 Fowler	 took	 the	 jagged	 rock and	 swiped	 it	 three	 times	 across	 the	 snout	 of	 Azaz,	 drawing	 deep	 and	 bloody wounds.

“Remember	the	name	of	Fowler	with	every	last	scar,”	Fowler	said.	“The	first

scar	 is	 for	 my	 ancestors.	 The	 second	 is	 for	 me.	 And	 the	 third,	 that	 is	 for	 the children	of	men,	who	will	see	your	mammoth	body	fall	at	the	end	of	the	war,”

Fowler	decreed.

Fowler	 raised	 his	 arm	 to	 deal	 a	 killing	 blow,	 but	 weakened	 as	 he	 was,	 he lacked	 the	 power.	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 growled.	 At	 the	 sight	 of	 the	 falling	 body	 of their	prominent	leader,	they	charged	after	Fowler.	Trapped,	Fowler	shut	his	eyes.

He	 ordered	 his	 nanobots	 to	 take	 some	 of	 the	 fallen	 bear’s	 nanotechnology.

Within	moments,	he	extended	his	hand.	The	nanotechnology	hovered	above	his

open	right	palm.

“Stop	 now,”	 Fowler	 said	 to	 The	 Blood	 Paw,	 “or	 I	 will	 order	 my	 nanobots	 to kill	everything	that	gives	your	leader	his	intelligence	and	his	power.”

Four	 Blood	 Paw	 soldiers	 stopped	 the	 charge.	 They	 stood	 on	 their	 hind	 legs, uncertain.	Fowler	ordered	his	nanobots	to	disassemble	one	of	Azaz’s	nanobots.

The	bear	writhed	on	the	cave	floor.

“Clear	a	path	for	me	or	your	leader	dies,”	Fowler	said.

The	 Blood	 Paw	 moved	 to	 form	 a	 circle	 and	 charge	 again.	 Again,	 Fowler

ordered	 the	 disassembly	 of	 Azaz’s	 nanotechnology.	 Again,	 the	 semiconscious bear	king	writhed.	The	Blood	Paw	made	way.

Fowler	leaned	down	to	look	the	bear	god	in	the	eye.	“If	I	see	you	again,	I	will

kill	you,”	he	said.

“I	 will	 taste	 of	 your	 flesh	 before	 I	 die,”	 Azaz	 whispered.	 “That	 I	 promise you.”

With	 that,	 Fowler	 fled	 through	 the	 narrow	 cave	 path	 to	 the	 mountainside, Azaz’s	 nanotechnology	 with	 him.	 Fowler	 kept	 a	 few	 nanobots	 and	 released

others.	Fowler	stepped	on	more	of	the	small	mechanical	creatures.	Azaz	writhed

in	the	cave	above,	but	his	life	was	as	pulsating	as	his	angry	growl.



Fowler	fled	back	to	what	was	left	of	his	men,	abandoning	Silver	Mountain	to

the	 bears.	 When	 the	 battered	 soldiers	 met	 the	 militia	 at	 the	 base	 of	 the	 Rocky Mountains,	Brigand	stood,	waiting.

“You	saw	Azaz	and	lived?”	Brigand	asked.	“I	thought	you	were	dead	for	sure.

I	heard	he	dragged	you	off.”

“Azaz’s	guards	thought	I	had	the	power	to	kill	him,”	Fowler	said.	“Confusion

was	my	ally.	Next	time,	when	they	know	more	about	our	technology,	I	won’t	be

so	lucky.”

Fowler	 held	 out	 his	 hand.	 “I	 didn’t	 come	 away	 empty-handed,	 though,”	 he said.	“At	least	we	can	study	the	mad	bear	before	his	next	attack.”

The	 nanobots,	 still	 under	 their	 master’s	 control,	 had	 other	 ideas.	 They

incinerated,	forcing	Fowler	to	drop	them.

Brigand	shook	his	head	and	cursed.	“You	cost	the	lives	of	twenty	of	our	best-

trained	 hunters	 and	 left	 the	 primary	 target	 alive,”	 he	 said.	 “You	 clearly	 lost	 the battle,	and	you	nearly	lost	your	life.	But	this,”	Brigand	said,	pointing	to	the	fiery nanobots,	 “shows	 me	 that	 we’re	 the	 ones	 who	 may	 not	 stand	 a	 chance	 in	 this war.”

Without	 further	 comment,	 Fowler	 headed	 off	 towards	 the	 medical	 tents,	 still dripping	blood.

Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

Azaz’s	nanobots	wove	the	last	of	the	fur	and	skin	of	his	snout	together	when	one

of	the	Blood	Paw	emerged.

“My	king	and	master,”	Vronkyl,	chief	commander	of	The	Blood	Paw,	said.

“What	is	it?”	Azaz	asked.

“A	 rulku	wizard	has	entered	bear	territory.”

Azaz	 growled,	 got	 on	 his	 hind	 legs,	 and	 said,	 “Lead	 me	 to	 him.	 Let	 me	 tear him	limb	from	bloody	limb	so	that	we	may	show	the	world	footage	of	the	bear

dining	on	its	greatest	natural	enemy.”

“But	sir—”

“What?”

“He	 is	 a	 spirit	 animal,”	 Vronkyl	 replied.	 “There	 is	 no	 muscle,	 no	 meat,	 only movement	 and	 silence.	 We	 attacked,	 even	 with	 the	 rulku	 magic.	 We	 could	 not even	 wound	 the	 creature,	 let	 alone	 slow	 him	 down.	 He	 will	 be	 here	 within

moments.”

“Within	seconds,”	Nurvlyn	said,	emerging	as	a	hologram	before	the	bear	king.

“You	needn’t	sound	the	alarms.	If	I	wanted	you	dead,	bear	god,	you	would	have

been	dead	already.”

“A	 bold	 claim	 from	 a	 ghost,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “It’s	 too	 bad.	 I	 would	 have	 loved seeing	you	scream	for	your	life.”

“I	come	here	to	give	you	advice,	advice	you	will	not	listen	to,	but	advice	that

in	the	end	might	save	all,”	Nurvlyn	said.

“Nothing	can	save	humanity	now,”	Azaz	said.

“The	 innumerable	 tribes	 of	 animals	 were	 all	 given	 intelligence	 by	 the	 great spirit	 above,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “This	 spirit	 is	 the	 very	 one	 that	 breathes	 into	 the winds	 and	 gives	 spark	 to	 the	 stars	 in	 the	 skies.	 The	 bears	 were	 one	 tribe.	 The rulku	another.	It	is	I	who	gave	your	kind	the	spark	of	awakened	life.	And	it	is	I who	 knows.	 No	 tribe	 can	 decimate	 another	 without	 also	 decimating	 itself.	 We are	all	connected,	every	creature	that	flies	through	the	skies,	every	creature	that lurks	 at	 the	 bottom	 of	 the	 greatest	 ocean	 trenches.	 To	 kill	 the	 rulku	 is	 to	 kill yourselves.”

“And	to	not	kill	the	 rulku	is	to	let	them	kill	us	all,”	Azaz	said.	“My	Blood	Paw choose	to	fight.”

Nurvlyn	 reached	 out.	 “Hear	 me,	 now,	 bear	 king,	 through	 all	 your	 madness,”

he	insisted.	“I	know	what	you’re	doing.	I	can	see	the	fires	lighting	up	all	through the	Rockies.	You	mean	to	build	a	civilization	on	the	flesh	of	the	 rulku. 	Instead, you	will	choke	on	their	ashes.”

“So,	 you	 play	 the	 prophet	 now?”	 Azaz	 asked.	 “If	 so,	 you’re	 a	 most

unwelcome	one.”

“The	greatest	prophets	always	are,	for	they	are	the	ones	that	speak	the	truth,”

Nurvlyn	said.	He	extended	his	ghostly	hand	and	added,	“From	the	depths	of	the

farthest	ocean	reigns	King	Blu,	a	source	of	wisdom	that	surpasses	you	and	I	put

together.	He	would	have	me	give	you	this.	Even	now,	the	 rulku	regroup,	thanks to	the	one	who	scarred	you.”

“They	will	fail,”	Azaz	insisted.

“Listen	 to	 me	 now,	 king,	 if	 ever	 you	 listen	 to	 anyone,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “This gift	programs	your	nanobots	to	build	a	mighty	wall	around	The	Rockies,	one	of

energy	that	not	even	the	 rulku	and	their	steel	eagles	will	be	able	to	break.	In	the end,	 it	 will	 save	 your	 bears	 from	 extinction.	 But	 even	 this	 wall	 will	 not	 last forever.	 Command	 it	 at	 the	 last,	 at	 the	 very	 last,	 when	 your	 life	 hangs	 in	 the balance,	to	prove	yourself	a	king.”

“Save	 others	 but	 not	 myself—is	 that	 it,	 wizard	 spirit?”	 Azaz	 asked.	 Nurvlyn closed	 his	 eyes,	 as	 if	 reaching	 into	 the	 spirit	 binding	 all	 life.	 “That	 I	 cannot



foresee,”	he	said.	“That	depends	upon	your	wisdom,	not	mine.	But	if	you	keep

on	this	path,	if	you	push	towards	the	genocide	of	the	 rulku,	you	will	push	alone.

The	 other	 animal	 tribes	 will	 not	 back	 you.	 I	 see	 a	 bear	 king	 who	 falls	 to	 the waves	of	fortune.	I	see	the	name	of	Azaz	held	in	abomination.”

“Then	I	defy	the	oceans	and	their	king,	and	the	stars	and	theirs!”	Azaz	said,

rising	to	his	full	height.	“The	rise	of	my	kind	has	been	an	inevitability	since	the dawn	of	Creation.	I	have	beaten	fate	by	surviving	this	long.	These	scars,”	Azaz

said,	showing	off	his	snout,	“mean	that	I	am	special.	It	is	I	who	defies	death.	It	is I	who	is	chosen	to	rule	the	new	world	animal	order.”

Azaz	 growled	 from	 the	 bottom	 of	 his	 essence.	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 rose	 and

growled,	joining	with	the	battle	cry	of	their	master.

“Remember	 my	 words,	 bear	 king,	 before	 the	 end,”	 Nurvlyn	 said	 over	 the

growls.	 “Your	 kingdom	 will	 be	 no	 more	 than	 a	 pile	 of	 ash	 and	 skull.	 But	 the kingdom	of	your	descendants	will	be	as	numerous	as	the	fiery	eyes	of	the	bear

ancestors	that	dot	the	night	sky.”

Nurvlyn	left	the	nanobots	behind	and	disappeared.	Azaz	prepared	for	his	next

strike.





CHAPTER	11

Zukul-Ryle

Washington,	D.C.,	USA

Brigand	 stood	 before	 the	 holographic	 map,	 sighing	 before	 he	 looked	 at	 the hunter	generals	and	North	American	prime	minister	in	front	of	him.

“Azaz’s	successful	strike	has	emboldened	the	animal	kingdom,”	Brigand	said.

“The	bear	general	is	using	the	PR	pictures	we	had	of	Fowler	incapacitating	him

as	evidence	of	human	intent.	He’s	called	for	allies.	So	far,	the	animal	world	has

been	silent.	Yet,	our	nanobot	spies	tell	us	that	animal	leaders	are	meeting	secretly to	 blaze	 the	 path	 to	 war.”	 The	 holographic	 map	 shifted	 as	 Brigand	 mentioned,

“The	 Blood	 Paw	 territory	 now	 extends	 over	 the	 Rockies,	 into	 Washington,

Oregon,	California,	and	even	lower	Canada.	Additionally,	the	Amazon,	under	the

leadership	 of	 the	 snake	 queen	 Thraxis,	 has	 pushed	 back	 human	 encroachment.

Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 the	 king	 of	 the	 pandas,	 has	 met	 with	 Zulta,	 the elephant	 king	 and	 Yorba,	 lord	 of	 the	 mountain	 gorillas.	 The	 ocean	 is	 not immune.	We	know	the	animals	are	manufacturing	some	new	nanotechnology	in

the	 deep	 Pacific,	 some	 weapon	 our	 spies	 could	 not	 uncover.	 The	 map	 keeps shifting—	and	not	in	our	favor.”

“And	 what	 of	 Animus,	 the	 animal	 kingdom	 of	 the	 North?”	 Fowler	 asked.

“They	 are	 officially	 neutral	 and	 have	 called	 upon	 Azaz	 and	 the	 human

populations	to	cease	hostilities,”	Brigand	said.	“The	wolf	queen	Moon	Shadow

sent	 a	 message	 as	 useless	 as	 anything	 conjured	 up	 by	 our	 consummate

politicians.	But	pictures	from	behind	the	walls	of	 Animus	paint	a	different	story.

Polar	bear	troops	are	preparing	for	a	long	trek.	Eagles,	hawks,	and	vultures	fly

constantly,	and	our	spies	have	spotted	scouts	over	the	entire	continent.”

“They’re	 waiting	 for	 something,”	 European	 Hunter	 General	 Fvoris	 said.

“Animal	populations	across	Europe	are	unifying	at	alarming	rates,	under	a	mad

murder	 of	 crows,	 of	 all	 creatures,	 that	 animals	 call	 The	 Night	 Eye.	 We	 have evidence	this	terrorist	queen	has	been	in	contact	with	Azaz.	One	bear	king	would

not	march	so	boldly	into	military	installations	if	he	did	not	have	greater	support.”

“You	haven’t	seen	Azaz	up	close,”	Fowler	said.	“He	will	stop	at	nothing	to	rid

the	animal	world	of	humans.	He	believes	that	he	is	a	god.”



“Azaz	 is	 a	 local	 demagogue,”	 Hunter	 General	 Xavian,	 commander	 of	 the

United	Asian	and	Pacific	Subcontinent	Forces,	said.	“The	animals	use	him	to	test

our	defenses.	Our	intel	informs	us	of	a	bigger	threat.	A	massive	whale	known	as

King	 Blu	 is	 the	 emperor	 of	 all	 animals.	 They	 wait	 for	 his	 decree.	 Once	 their weapon,	 whatever	 it	 is,	 is	 ready,	 they	 will	 strike.	 Our	 best	 intel	 leads	 us	 to believe	that	it	will	disable	human	nanobot-controlled	technology.	We	must	bring

the	war	to	the	animals	before	they	bring	ruin	to	us.”

“Prime	Minister?”	Brigand	asked.

“The	 World	 Council	 is	 unanimous.	 The	 animals	 must	 start	 this	 war,	 not	 us,”

Prime	Minister	Damien	Rush	said.

“Why	start	a	war,	Prime	Minister,	when	you	can	end	one?”	Brigand	asked.

“General?”	the	prime	minister	asked	in	reply.

“We	 talk	 of	 symptoms	 but	 not	 of	 the	 disease,”	 Brigand	 said.	 “One	 enhanced human,	the	Greenlander	the	animals	call	Nurvlyn,	is	the	father	of	this	madness.

His	 nanobots	 speak	 the	 language	 of	 the	 animals	 better	 than	 any	 creature	 alive, even	 better	 than	 our	 chief	 hunter,	 Fowler,	 over	 here.	 If	 we	 can	 capture	 this Nurvlyn	 alive	 and	 decode	 his	 nanotechnology,	 we	 can	 command	 the	 hybrid

animals	at	a	cellular	level.	We	can	end	the	war	before	there	is	one.”

“Why	don’t	we	have	him	already?”	Hunter	General	Zhang,	head	of	the	Asian

Land	Forces,	asked.

“The	animals	hide	him,”	Brigand	said,	“and	our	best	hunter	may	be	the	only

one	who	can	find	him.	To	put	Fowler	on	this	at	such	a	crucial	hour	would	give

the	animals	greater	opportunity	to	strike.”

“We	 should	 find	 him,”	 Hunter	 General	 Uzwali,	 Head	 of	 the	 African

Continental	 Army,	 said.	 “We	 should	 make	 that	 our	 top	 priority.	 Do	 you	 know where	he	is?”

“No	one	does,”	Brigand	said.	“He	has	the	ability	to	disable	nanotechnology.”

Fowler	shut	his	eyes	and	said,	“We	are	still	connected,	through	some	animal

speech	 I	 can’t	 completely	 understand.	 He	 is	 the	 compass	 for	 all	 of	 this.	 I	 will find	him.”

“I’ll	 inform	 The	 World	 Council,”	 Prime	 Minister	 Rush	 said.	 “But	 I	 can	 tell you	with	great	confidence,	start	your	hunt	today.	No	one	on	The	World	Council

will	balk	if	you	have	this	man	in	custody.”

The	 hunter	 generals	 rose.	 Prime	 Minister	 Rush	 whispered,	 “Best	 of	 luck,

sergeant,”	 to	 Fowler.	 “In	 you	 lies	 our	 only	 hope	 of	 thwarting	 crisis	 evolution.”

Then	he	headed	out,	his	generals	behind	him.

Tegra-Don

Pacific	Ocean

In	 the	 swirling	 blue-green	 waters	 of	 the	 vast	 Pacific,	 just	 below	 where	 the sunrays	 stoked	 their	 fires,	 a	 vast,	 impenetrable	 energy	 shield	 hid	 the	 most intricate	 biological	 mind	 earth	 or	 ocean	 had	 ever	 known.	 The	 massive	 purple light	 swam,	 flanked	 by	 schools	 of	 great	 white	 sharks.	 Leading	 the	 sharks	 was their	 commander,	 a	 giant	 great	 white	 shark	 known	 as	 Xrata	 The	 White	 Death.

They	 circled	 as	 if	 a	 Praetorian	 Guard	 from	 an	 age	 of	 Man	 long	 dead.	 And	 still the	light	of	the	mega	whale	was	too	much	for	them.

“King	 Blu,”	 Xrata	 said.	 “The	 landlings	 have	 engaged	 one	 another.	 One	 of their	bear	kings,	Azaz,	has	attacked	the	military	outpost	of	the	 rulku. 	The	animal tribes	 have	 called	 a	 meeting	 to	 declare	 war.	 They	 have	 asked	 that	 you	 attend.

Shall	we	send	any	message?”

The	light	that	was	symbiotic	with	the	whale	pulsed	in	thought.	“The	interests

of	 the	 ocean	 must	 come	 first,”	 King	 Blu	 said.	 “Have	 your	 sharks	 and	 dolphins used	the	nanotechnology	as	I	directed?	The	energy	shields	must	go	up	if	we	are

to	sift	away	the	trash	and	pollution	of	the	landling	world	and	keep	this	war	out	of our	waters.	Yet,	there	is	silence.”

“They	have	started	the	shields	but	need	more	time—at	least	two	more	of	your

migrations,”	Xrata	said.

“Then	we	cannot	join	in	the	landling	war,”	King	Blu	said.	“I	will	not	allow	my

children	to	be	the	victims	of	senseless	conflict.	It	is	good	for	us	that	the	ocean	is vast,	that	we	need	not	kill	each	other	for	water.”

“Shall	I	send	a	message,	my	lord?”	Xrata	asked.

“There	 is	 no	 point.	 The	 man	 beast,	 the	 one	 they	 call	 Nurvlyn,	 blocks

communication.	He	wants	us	to	give	advantage	to	one	side	over	the	other.”

“He	seeks	another	conference.”

“Allow	it,	if	only	to	see	his	frequency	and	to	see	how	we	might	disable	him,”

King	 Blu	 sang	 in	 a	 softened	 song.	 “But	 if	 these	 escalating	 wars	 pollute	 our waters,	all	animals	will	pay	the	price.	Even	the	patience	of	a	god	has	its	limits.”

“Yes,	my	lord,”	Admiral	Xrata	replied.

Xrata	 swam	 off,	 until	 there	 was	 only	 the	 storming	 purple	 energy	 field,	 the whale	body	not	enough	to	contain	the	mind	of	King	Blu,	and	the	water.	Moments

later,	by	holographic	transmission,	Nurvlyn	appeared.

“Great	king	of	the	waters,”	Nurvlyn	began,	“thank	you	for	seeing	me	again.”

“You	left	me	little	choice.”

“I	sense	much	activity	in	the	waters.”

“And	much	activity	in	the	world	above	them.”

Nurvlyn	hid	his	eyes	to	avoid	seeing	the	blinding	light	of	the	whale	god.	“You

know	 what	 I	 must	 ask,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “Have	 you	 finished	 your	 studies	 on	 the nanotechnology	I	provided?”

The	energy	field	pulsed	once	more	in	a	deeper	violet,	then	in	a	sun	yellow,	and

then	in	a	cobalt	blue.

“I	know	what	you	would	ask	of	me,”	King	Blu	said,	“and	I	know	what	your

animal	kind	will	ask	when	their	war	is	over.”

“And	 we	 both	 know	 that	 this	 body	 will	 be	 dead	 before	 this	 all	 plays	 out,”

Nurvlyn	 said	 without	 self-pity.	 “But	 while	 you	 deal	 with	 thousands	 of

generations	 in	 the	 blink	 of	 an	 eye,	 I	 deal	 with	 one	 moment	 only.	 I	 have	 done your	 bidding—I	 have	 given	 Azaz	 the	 means	 to	 prove	 his	 leadership	 qualities when	 the	 time	 comes.	 And	 I	 need	 to	 know:	 Will	 you	 turn	 over	 your

modifications	to	us?	Will	you	help	the	animals	to	overthrow	their	keepers?”

The	energy	field	pulsed	again,	this	time	in	a	radiant	pink.

“My	 godly	 mind	 has	 calculated	 the	 effects	 of	 this	 war	 to	 the	 thousandth generation,”	King	Blu	said,	“and	even	I	can’t	say	for	sure	if	what	I	am	about	to

do	 is	 wisdom	 or	 folly.	 However,	 this	 best	 favors	 the	 children	 of	 the	 sea:	 I	 will release	 only	 those	 modifications	 that	 allow	 your	 animal	 kind	 to	 disable	 the technology	 that	 poses	 a	 threat	 to	 us	 all.	 Luckily	 for	 you,	 that	 includes	 almost every	device	known	to	the	 rulku. ”

King	Blu	summoned	Xrata.

“My	liege?”	Xrata	asked.

“Speak	 to	 Qyerl,	 the	 dolphin	 king.	 Ask	 him	 to	 program	 the	 nanobots	 we

modified	to	seek	out	Nurvlyn	and	identify	themselves	for	him.”

“Yes,	my	lord.”

Xrata	swam	off.

“And	 now,	 will	 you	 let	 my	 sharks	 and	 dolphins	 work	 in	 peace?”	 King	 Blu asked.

“He	 who	 sees	 a	 thousand	 generations	 knows	 the	 answer	 to	 that,”	 Nurvlyn

replied.

“I	am	not	a	 he.	Or	a	 she.	Or	an	 it,	exactly,”	King	Blu	said.	“I	am	the	ocean.

When	I	pass	from	this	body,	I	will	join	with	every	creature	of	the	sea.	We	will	be as	one.”

“Remarkable,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “I	 will	 not	 intrude	 upon	 your	 communications

again	 until	 the	 last	 hour.	 And	 you	 know	 my	 request.	 From	 you	 will	 come	 the great	world	consciousness	that	will	join	all	back	to	The	Creator,	she	whose	name

is	exalted.	I	wish	to	be	with	you.	I	wish	to	see.”

“Even	I	have	not	seen	the	one	you	speak	of, Avrah, 	in	ages,”	King	Blu	said.



“I	 will	 miss	 you,	 great	 king,”	 Nurvlyn	 said,	 “but	 I	 must	 ask:	 is	 this	 your message	to	the	war	council?	Do	you	wish	for	your	voice	to	be	heard?”

“My	 voice	 is	 as	 thunder	 is	 upon	 your	 highest	 mountains,”	 King	 Blu	 replied.

“None	can	hear	my	true	voice	and	live.	When	I	wish	to	be	heard,	I	will	speak—

in	my	own	time,	and	in	my	own	way.”

“Thank	you,	great	king,”	Nurvlyn	said.

The	energy	field	pulsed,	and	Nurvlyn’s	hologram	disappeared.

Back	in	the	Inyo	County	hills,	the	swaying	of	Methuselah	pierced	the	still	sky.

“You	realize,”	Methuselah	said,	“that	this	day,	King	Blu	has	control	over	you

and	 over	 all	 animals	 of	 the	 earth.	 King	 Blu	 is	 mysterious,	 yet	 I	 know	 him	 as	 I know	myself.	What	is	freely	given	comes	at	the	greatest	cost.”

“You	think	we	should	reject	the	gift?”	Nurvlyn	asked.

Methuselah	sat	quietly	for	a	moment	before	adding,	“It	is	too	late.	King	Blu

knows	all	of	your	technology	now.	The	nanotechnology	has	evolved	quicker	in

the	 waters	 of	 the	 sea.	 King	 Blu	 has	 modified	 it	 to	 make	 it	 so.	 The	 great	 king allows	 you	 to	 use	 these	 devices	 and	 to	 kill	 each	 other	 to	 divert	 you	 while	 the ocean	 animals	 finish	 their	 energy	 fields.	 They	 will	 transform	 the	 ocean	 as	 we know	it.	And	then	the	world	will	be	his.”

“We	 have	 little	 choice,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “To	 fight	 against	 the	 rulku	 now,	 we must	 use	 these	 modifications.	 Otherwise,	 against	 the	 technology	 of	 the	 rulku there	can	be	no	victory.	I	must	meet	with	the	council.	Do	you	wish	to	join	me?”

“Like	 King	 Blu,	 I	 see	 where	 this	 will	 lead	 and	 what	 part	 the	 plants	 of	 the world	will	ultimately	 play,”	Methuselah	said.	 “I	favor	peace,	 not	war.	Defense, not	 offense.	 So	 long	 as	 you	 realize	 that	 we	 also	 will	 not	 play	 a	 part—just	 yet, anyway—I	will	be	happy	to	listen.”

Nurvlyn	 laughed.	 “You	 mean	 to	 outsmart	 the	 smartest	 intelligence	 of	 the

ocean,	don’t	you?”

“One	day,	King	Blu	and	I	will	realize	that	we	are	one.	We	will	exist	as	one.

Until	that	day,	my	children	must	also	survive,”	Methuselah	said.

Nurvlyn	 nodded	 and	 summoned	 the	 great	 animal	 leaders	 of	 the	 many

tribes.The	time	was	at	hand.

Yvot-Sing

Min	Mountains,	China

Holosphere

Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 sat	 perched	 on	 his	 forest	 throne	 tree,	 gazing	 at	 all around	him.	The	giant	panda	had	black	fur	matted	by	his	eyes	and	snout.	A	cloud

of	 white	 stretched	 over	 the	 contours	 of	 his	 massive	 face,	 stretching,	 with	 large black	spots,	along	the	rest	of	his	massive	body.	The	golden	armor	that	gave	the

emperor	 his	 name	 hid	 most	 of	 that	 fur,	 however.	 That	 armor	 sent	 a	 clear message:	here	was	an	emperor	preparing	for	war.

The	Golden	Nightmare	steadied	his	eyes	until	they	landed	on	Moon	Shadow’s

hologram.	“It	is	too	bad	that	we	cannot	meet	our	esteemed	animal	brothers	and

sisters	face	to	face	for	so	solemn	an	occasion,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.	“But

the	nanotechnology	of	the	enemy	is	everywhere,	and	the	 rulku	have	hemmed	us in	by	the	mountains	of	 Yvot-Sing.	Any	move	my	animal	tribes	make	constitutes an	act	of	war.”

Holograms	 of	 Zulta,	 the	 elephant	 king;	 of	 Yorba,	 king	 of	 the	 gorillas;	 of Thraxis,	 queen	 of	 the	 Amazon;	 of	 Moon	 Shadow,	 queen	 of	 Animus;	 of	 White Claw,	king	of	the	northern	bears	of	 Animus;	and	of	The	Night	Eye,	a	murder	of crows,	filled	the	tree	colony	The	Golden	Nightmare	and	his	spider	monkeys	had

worked	 so	 feverishly	 to	 build.	 The	 cry	 of	 eagles	 signaled	 the	 presence	 of Thunder	 Killer,	 and	 only	 a	 solemn	 silence	 accompanied	 Sky	 Death,	 who	 sat	 at Moon	 Shadow’s	 side.	 The	 image	 of	 a	 half	 man,	 half	 beast,	 Nurvlyn,	 sat	 in	 the last	tree	chair.	Snow	fell	upon	the	sanctuary	of	the	great	panda	king,	but	he	kept his	eyes	on	the	world	of	animals	before	him,	waiting	for	the	next	king	or	queen

to	speak.

“My	eagles	tell	me	that	Azaz	The	Grizzly	King	means	to	lead	a	campaign	to

the	Pacific	Ocean,	and	that	he	may	start	as	soon	as	tonight,”	Thunder	Killer	said.

“He	 has	 reached	 out	 to	 Animus,	 inviting	 us	 to	 join	 in	 The	 Great	 Northern Campaign	for	the	Liberation	of	All	Animals,	as	he	calls	it.”

“I	met	with	Azaz,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“He	means	to	unite	the	animals	under

a	single	crown:	his.”

“Yet,	 he	 acts	 with	 strength,”	 Yorba	 said.	 “He	 shows	 us	 that	 the	 might	 of	 the rulku	is	not	so	great	as	we	first	imagined.	The	longer	we	wait,	the	stronger	they become,	and	the	more	they	plot	to	kill	all	of	our	kind.”

“The	 streets	 of	 Europe	 flow	 with	 the	 blood	 of	 my	 children,”	 The	 Night	 Eye said.	The	flock	swarmed	in	a	circling	mass	of	ravens,	crows,	and	kites,	each	bird

a	separate	choral	note.	“We	have	engaged	in	skirmishes,	but	there	are	too	many

of	their	machines.”

Nurvlyn	 sat	 for	 a	 moment,	 took	 a	 deep	 breath,	 and	 added,	 holding	 up	 a	 few nanobots,	 “There	 is	 something	 you	 should	 know.	 My	 kind	 will	 never	 rest	 until the	 unnatural	 order	 and	 rule	 of	 mankind	 is	 restored.	 Mankind	 will	 use	 their machines	and	drive	you	to	camps,	subject	you	to	experiments	and	to	torture,	and

kill	 you,	 curing	 the	 disease	 they	 say	 has	 overtaken	 the	 animal	 world.	 These nanobots,	courtesy	of	the	great	ruler	of	the	oceans,	King	Blu,	are	the	weapon	that you	need.”

“The	 rulku	lies,	like	all	 rulku, ”	Yorba	said.

“Quiet,	Yorba,”	Zulta	ordered.	“Let	the	wizard	speak.”

“Replicating	 and	 releasing	 these	 to	 the	 world	 of	 machines	 will	 render	 them useless,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“It	will	not	kill	my	people,	but	it	will	end	their	tyranny over	nature.”

“At	what	cost	to	us?”	Thraxis	asked	with	a	prolonged	hiss.	“The	Great	Sun	of

the	Ocean	has	been	busy	in	the	waters	that	surround	my	jungle.	We	see	the	sea

lights	day	and	night,	hard	at	work.	I	suspect	that	King	Blu	means	to	control	us

and	the	war,	or	at	the	very	least,	track	us	with	the	same	technology	the	 rulku	use.

Entrapment	is	always	the	best	way	to	kill	your	prey.”

“It	isn’t	The	Great	Sun	King	of	the	Ocean;	it’s	this	 rulku,”	Yorba	said.	“With one	hand,	this	Nurvlyn	becomes	our	father.	With	the	other,	he	would	become	our

master.”

Nurvlyn	 took	 a	 deep	 breath.	 “Millennia	 of	 abuse	 are	 behind	 King	 Yorba’s words,	and	the	fault	for	that	lies	with	my	kind,”	he	said.	“But	I	assure	you,	my

time	 is	 almost	 up.	 The	 great	 queen	 of	 the	 trees,	 Methuselah,	 and	 the	 mystical King	Blu	himself,	assure	me	that	my	death	is	at	hand	before	this	war	is	over.	You

must	 remember,	 Yorba,	 that	 I	 was	 a	 failed	 experiment,	 a	 bridge	 between	 the animal,	 plant,	 and	 human	 worlds,	 with	 one	 intent:	 to	 control	 the	 animals	 as soldiers	in	our	 rulku	wars.	My	one	remaining	motive	is	to	set	things	right.	This technology	 will	 give	 you	 a	 chance.	 But	 I	 do	 not	 pretend	 that	 I	 will	 help	 you exterminate	my	kind,	as	Azaz	would	have.	I	am	not	the	traitor	Yorba	holds	me	to

be.	I	am	the	way	of	evolution.	Instead,	I	must	find	my	successor	or	let	him	find

me.	 He	 will	 work	 to	 set	 the	 world	 of	 the	 rulku	 right	 again	 when	 they	 lose	 this war	by	allowing	them	to	join	with	nature,	to	be	as	I	am.”

Nurvlyn	took	another	breath,	adding,	“I	have	said	what	I	needed	to	say,	and	I

have	done	what	I	have	needed	to	do,	for	you	my	children,	for	this	earth,	its	skies, and	its	oceans.	The	declaration	of	war	is	for	you	to	decide.	Look	to	me	no	more

unless	 it	 is	 in	 the	 nature	 that	 surrounds	 you.	 A	 wizard	 comes	 and	 goes	 as necessity	moves	him.	All	I	ask	is	that	you	remember,	when	this	is	all	over,	that

not	all	 rulku	are	evil,	and	that	for	life	to	survive,	we	must	be	as	we	always	were, as	one.”

With	 that,	 Nurvlyn’s	 hologram	 disappeared.	 There	 was	 chatter	 among	 the

animals	as	the	refashioned	nanobots	hovered	about	The	Golden	Nightmare.

“It	seems	we	have	a	fateful	decision	ahead	of	us,	my	brothers	and	sisters,”	The

Golden	Nightmare	said.	“I	hear	the	nanobots	speaking	to	me.	They	say	they	can

be	embedded	in	the	steel	beasts	of	the	 rulku	by	the	next	full	moon.”

“I	say	we	use	them,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

The	 other	 kings	 and	 queens	 of	 the	 animals	 looked	 at	 Moon	 Shadow	 with

surprise.

“I	 favor	 diplomacy	 of	 like	 minds,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “But	 I	 believe

Nurvlyn.	 The	 rulku	 will	 not	 stop.	 We	 must	 not	 be	 fools,	 as	 Azaz	 is.	 We	 must coordinate	our	strikes	and	make	sure	we	attack	as	one.”

“And	who	will	decide	for	us?	You?”	Thraxis	asked.

“We	 must	 appoint	 our	 top	 generals,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said,	 “who	 must	 be	 in

constant	communication.	They	must	use	nanobots	to	create	a	web	of	technology

that	 makes	 us	 one.	 I	 say	 we	 each	 appoint	 a	 general.	 The	 kingdom	 of	 Animus appoints	White	Claw,	king	of	the	polar	regions.	He	is	as	much	a	leader	as	I	am.”

“Moon	 Shadow	 speaks	 well,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said.	 “Outsmarting	 the	 rulku with	their	own	hunting	strategy	is	our	only	way.”

“I	 agree,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said.	 “Then	 it	 is	 time,	 my	 allies,	 for	 the vote.	Do	we	choose	to	go	to	war?”

“Aye,”	Thunder	Killer	said.

One	by	one,	the	animals	agreed.	Until	it	was	Yorba’s	turn	to	speak.

“And	 what	 of	 Azaz?”	 Yorba	 asked.	 “Before	 I	 vote,	 I	 want	 to	 know:	 Do	 we send	animals	to	support	him?”

“Animus	 will	 not,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “We	 haven’t	 enough	 trained	 soldiers to	lose	to	his	endless	campaigns.	However,	we	will	stand	behind	you,	our	allies,

if	you	declare	war,	and	commit	our	soldiers	of	the	North	to	whatever	cause	this

council	sees	fit.”

“I	agree,”	Zulta	said.	“Let	us	allow	Azaz	to	join	us	if	he	wishes,	as	an	equal,

but	not	as	our	ruler.	But	only	if	he	takes	his	orders	from	the	council,	as	we	will.

No	 more	 rogue	 attacks.	 And	 no	 genocide.	 Too	 long	 have	 my	 elephants	 seen where	that	kind	of	 rulku	thinking	will	lead	us.”

Yorba	snorted.

“It	comes	down	to	you	and	Thraxis,”	Zulta	said.

“I	 agree,”	 Thraxis	 said.	 “In	 the	 jungle,	 each	 anaconda	 hunts	 alone	 and

survives	 by	 her	 intellect	 and	 might.	 Let	 it	 be	 so	 with	 Azaz.	 He	 must	 have	 the intellect	to	join	us	or	die	on	his	own.	This	is	 Ozu. ”

“I	 agree,	 for	 now,”	 Yorba	 said,	 turning	 to	 Zulta.	 “We	 will	 protect	 your mountains	and	your	jungles,	and	we	will	strike	as	one	on	the	next	full	moon.”

The	 council	 sat	 for	 a	 long	 while,	 digesting	 all	 that	 had	 been	 spoken,	 before strategy	was	discussed.





CHAPTER	12

Zukul-Ryle

Washington,	D.C.,	USA

Holosphere

On	 screens	 the	 world	 over,	 prime	 ministers	 from	 six	 of	 the	 seven	 continents stood	 in	 a	 circle	 as	 Prime	 Minister	 Rush	 delivered	 the	 news.	 “Last	 night,	 our drones	detected	large	movements	of	evolved	animals	on	a	global	scale.	This	includes	the	northern	nation	of	 Animus.	In	The	Rocky	Mountains,	King	Azaz	still leads	his	Blood	Paw	against	peaceful	cities	of	men,	women,	and	children.	Per	the

terms	of	our	treaty	with	the	rising	animal	nation-states	of	the	world,	there	is	to	be no	aggression	between	the	world	of	mankind	and	the	world	of	evolved	animals.

We	 consider	 movement	 beyond	 the	 borders	 of	 Animus	 to	 be	 an	 act	 of	 war.	 We encourage	 all	 animals	 to	 return	 to	 their	 reservations	 within	 one	 day	 of	 this message.	We	will	be	sending	ships	and	military	personnel	to	make	sure	that	the

peace	is	upheld.	Rest	assured,	our	brave	men	and	women	in	the	military	will	not

strike	first.	However,	open	aggression	will	not	be	tolerated.	As	always,	we	seek	a peaceful	resolution	of	our	differences.”

Hunter	General	Brigand	sat	with	Hunter	Admiral	Lyons	of	the	ship	 Ascension

as	 the	 drone	 ship	 escorted	 the	 military	 to	 the	 eastern	 borders	 of	 Animus. 	 They watched	 Prime	 Minister	 Rush’s	 message	 to	 the	 world	 solemnly,	 breaking	 the silence	only	when	the	transmission	was	complete.

“When	 was	 the	 last	 time	 you	 saw	 battle?”	 Hunter	 General	 Brigand	 asked

Admiral	Lyons.

“This	 is	 a	 drone	 ship	 capable	 of	 air	 and	 sea	 missions,”	 Admiral	 Lyons	 said.

The	 admiral	 was	 a	 stocky,	 fluently	 sculptured	 man	 with	 a	 cleft	 chin	 and statuesque	figure	set	off	by	ruthless	blue	eyes.

“The	 Ascension	 was	 the	 leading	 ship	 in	 rounding	 up	 the	 animals	 and quarantining	them	to	the	camps	after	the	initial	attacks,”	the	admiral	said.	“She

has	seen	her	share	of	animal	blood.”

“As	have	I,”	Brigand	said,	looking	into	the	frigid	waters	as	if	etching	the	past

from	 the	 salty	 ice.	 “I	 still	 remember	 the	 early	 missions	 around	 the	 cities.	 I’ve never	 slaughtered	 more	 animals	 in	 my	 life	 than	 I	 did	 in	 those	 first	 few	 weeks.

And	now	this.”

“The	 animals	 brought	 this	 on	 themselves,”	 Lyons	 said,	 without	 the	 same

introspection.	“They’re	wild,	unruly,	uncivilized	creatures.	Giving	them	intellect and	the	capacity	to	reason	is	like	arming	a	Neanderthal	with	a	machine	gun	and

then	telling	the	savage	not	to	pull	the	trigger.	And	then	we	wonder	why	people

get	hurt.”

Brigand	 thought	 for	 a	 moment.	 He	 wondered	 if	 Lyons	 thought	 of	 the	 same question.	 When	 Lyons	 said	 nothing,	 watching	 the	 icy	 waters	 ahead,	 Brigand spoke.

“On	this	ship,	we	have	the	ability	to	wipe	out	all	of	 Animus,”	Brigand	said.

“If	it	comes	to	that,	yes,”	Lyons	said.

Brigand	looked	at	him.	“Are	you	ready	to	give	the	order?”

Lyons	looked	at	him.	“Don’t	tell	me	you’re	getting	soft,	Hunter	General,”	he

said.	 “You	 know	 better	 than	 I	 do	 how	 damaging	 these	 beasts	 are	 up	 close	 and personal.	Do	you	think	they’d	hesitate	a	single	second	to	rip	your	throat	out	if	it would	 benefit	 their	 own	 survival?	 For	 millennia,	 the	 natural	 world	 feared	 us.

They	will	learn	that	it	was	for	good	reason.”

Hunter	General	Brigand	kept	quiet.

“But	I’m	not	the	ranking	officer	here,	and	that	won’t	be	my	order	to	give,	will

it,	Hunter	General?”	Lyons	asked.

“No.	It	won’t.	It	will	either	have	to	come	from	the	ministers’	council	or	from

me.”

Lyons	 stared	 at	 the	 man	 for	 a	 moment,	 as	 if	 measuring	 the	 uncertainty	 upon his	face.	“History	often	comes	down	to	a	single	moment	that	changes	the	world,”

he	said.	“My	advice	to	you,	if	I	may	be	so	bold,	sir,	is	to	remember	that	billions of	 lives	 hinge	 on	 the	 decision	 that	 our	 fleets	 the	 world	 over	 make	 in	 a	 single moment.	We	either	go	down	as	history’s	hero	or	as	history’s	fool.”

“I’m	well	aware.”

Lyons	 smirked.	 “I’m	 sure	 the	 Beast	 of	 British	 Columbia	 would	 be,”	 he	 said.

“What	was	it:	a	thousand	animals	in	a	single	day?	You	ran	at	least	three	animal

camps	in	your	time,	didn’t	you?”

“I	did,	and	I	saw	innocent	animals	burn	because	of	the	orders	of	men	like	you,

at	the	hands	of	men	like	me.	I	won’t	let	the	world	come	to	what	I	saw	there:	an

endlessly	churning	fire.”

“Either	 we	 kill	 them,	 or	 they	 kill	 us,”	 Lyons	 insisted.	 “That’s	 nature’s	 own way.”

Brigand	 kept	 quiet	 as	 the	 ice	 mountains	 off	 the	 edge	 of	 Animus	 came	 into view.	He	looked	through	the	nanotechnology	of	his	enhanced	eyes.	The	horizon

was	empty.	Not	even	a	sterling	stirred	overhead.



“Lieutenant	Yolsen,”	Brigand	called	out	to	his	assistant.

“Sir,”	the	lieutenant	asked.

Lieutenant	 Yolsen	 was	 tall,	 unnaturally	 thin,	 with	 a	 ruggedness	 of	 features born	from	years	of	fighting	animals	on	the	ice.

“Prepare	to	send	a	message,”	Brigand	commanded.	“We	demand	to	meet	with

the	leading	council	of	 Animus	immediately	to	avert	war.”

The	lieutenant	sent	his	nanobots	to	meet	with	any	animal	technology	he	could

find.	For	hours,	the	men	waited.

“No	 answer,	 sir,”	 the	 lieutenant	 said.	 “We’ve	 sent	 the	 message	 through	 the same	channels	we	always	use,	and	the	animals	aren’t	responding.”

“What	intel	is	there	from	our	spy	nanobots,	the	ones	embedded	in	 Animus?”

“We	checked,	sir,	and	they’ve	been	disabled.”

“Disabled?”

“No	 technology	 we’ve	 sent	 into	 their	 kingdom	 has	 communicated.	 Even	 the

aerial	drones	have	gone	as	dark	as	the	polar	sky,	sir.”

“They’re	expecting	us,”	Brigand	said.

“How	could	they	not,	if	they	have	eyes?”	Lyons	asked.

“Bring	us	back	past	the	ice,	admiral,”	Brigand	said.	“Send	your	reports	to	the

ministers’	council	immediately,”	he	ordered	Lieutenant	Yolsen.

With	those	words,	Brigand	went	back	to	his	cabin,	awaiting	orders.

Rul-Seerus

Mount	Asgard

Nunavut,	Canada

The	 great,	 black-tinged	 white	 feathers	 of	 the	 snowy	 owl	 came	 into	 view	 in	 the great	beyond.	Moon	Shadow,	Thunder	Killer,	and	White	Claw	looked	at	the	icy

twin	peaks	of	Mount	Asgard,	awaiting	the	descent	of	the	great	seer	and	prophet

from	the	skies.

“You	 come	 seeking	 answers,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said,	 descending	 to	 the	 lowest

peak,	where	the	animals	stood.	“Yet,	the	future	already	pierces	like	ice	on	the	tip of	an	eagle’s	wing.”

Snow	 Prophet	 stood	 up,	 at	 an	 impressive	 height	 for	 an	 owl,	 with	 his	 wings nearly	 five	 feet	 from	 tip	 to	 tip.	 His	 black-flecked	 beak	 added	 to	 the	 whiteness.

Whereas	 most	 owls	 of	 his	 species	 had	 dark	 eyes,	 his	 were	 as	 white,	 blind,	 and colorless	as	the	polar	clouds.

“The	Night	Eye	has	told	us	that	a	convoy	of	 rulku	is	in	our	seas,	just	as	one gathers	along	the	shores	of	Brittany	in	France,	others	by	the	Amazon	and	Congo,

and	 still	 other	 aerial	 navies	 amass	 in	 the	 Min	 Mountains	 in	 China,”	 Moon Shadow	said.	“The	 rulku	say	that	are	surveying	us,	and	they	seek	parley.”

“The	 rulku	 are	 a	 fearful	 predator,	 and	 like	 most	 predators	 protecting	 fresh kills,	they	will	strike,”	Snow	Prophet	said.	“I	see	a	war	that	does	not	end	until	an eagle,	 a	 serpent,	 and	 a	 bear	 meet	 not	 as	 friends	 but	 as	 foes.	 The	 bear	 seeks	 to usher	 in	 a	 long	 period	 of	 peace,	 but	 there	 will	 be	 war.	 I	 see	 time	 as	 King	 Blu feels	the	most	distant	of	tides.	There	can	be	no	peace	until	the	king	of	the	 rulku falls	from	his	perch	high	in	the	Potomac,	until	his	warriors	fight	for	life,	here	in the	ice	of	the	seas	past	 Kywy-Tolyn.	Only	then	will	animals	roam	free.	Only	then can	 Animus	truly	be.	And	even	then,	the	whale	king	will	be	plotting.”

“So,	your	counsel	is	to	wage	war?”	Thunder	Killer	asked.

“War	 is	 upon	 you	 already,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said.	 The	 majestic	 owl	 closed	 its eyes,	concentrating.	“The	 rulku	have	yet	to	reveal	their	most	fearful	magic.	They have	 a	 genetic	 bomb	 that	 can	 kill	 all	 life	 in	 Nunavut.	 Their	 hunter	 warrior hesitates.	 Much	 animal	 blood	 stains	 his	 heart.	 War	 pains	 him	 greatly.	 If	 you strike	 now,	 you	 may	 disable	 this	 weapon.	 If	 you	 wait,	 the	 other	 rulku	 hunters will	not	hesitate.”

“The	 rulku	 are	 not	 the	 only	 ones	 with	 a	 weapon	 capable	 of	 carnage,”	 Moon Shadow	said.

“The	nanotechnology	you	 speak	of	will	 cause	untold	suffering	 to	the	 rulku,”

Snow	Prophet	said.	“Untold	numbers	of	their	children	will	perish	should	you	use

it.	Instead	of	your	blood,	theirs	will	feed	the	oceans.”

“What	other	choice	do	we	have?”	White	Claw	asked.	“It’s	either	their	deaths

or	ours.”

“Why	ask	if	you	are	willing	to	see	no	other	answer?”	Snow	Prophet	inquired.

“You’re	 right,	 oracle,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “We	 knew	 the	 answer	 all	 along, down	 to	 the	 last	 animal.	 We	 had	 just	 hoped	 for	 some	 other	 way.	 We	 hoped	 for peace.”

“I	tell	 you	 that	before	 the	 moon	is	 at	 its	 peak	tonight,	 when	 I	cry	 out	 by	the midnight	sun,	this	war	will	begin,”	Snow	Prophet	said.	“Only	when	you	cry	out

under	 the	 same	 moon,	 with	 a	 thousand	 animals	 and	 rulku	 at	 your	 side,	 Moon Shadow,”	the	oracle	said,	stretching	its	wings	and	facing	White	Claw,	“will	this

war	of	the	animals	end.”

At	that	moment,	there	was	a	scurrying	sifting	through	the	snow.

“Even	 now,	 your	 harbinger	 arrives,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said.	 “His	 words	 will	 be like	blood	in	the	snow.”

Through	a	tuft	of	snow,	Pale	Ghost	emerged.



“What	is	it?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.

“The	 rulku	 hunter	 king	 off	 the	 coast	 has	 made	 his	 first	 move,”	 Pale	 Ghost said.	“They’ve	already	sent	their	steel	spies	into	our	land.	They	are	still	looking for	you.	What	do	you	command,	kings	and	queens?”

Thunder	Killer,	White	Claw,	and	Moon	Shadow	all	gazed	upon	one	another.

With	a	swift	nod	of	beak	and	snout,	the	matter	was	decided.

“Send	 out	 the	 nanobots.	 Let	 them	 take	 to	 the	 skies	 as	 locusts,”	 White	 Claw commanded.

“It	will	be	done	as	you	say,”	Pale	Ghost	replied,	scurrying	off.

With	 a	 mighty	 thrust	 of	 her	 great	 wings,	 Snow	 Prophet	 took	 to	 the	 air, readying	his	cry.

Yon	Kywy-Tolyn,	Past	Animus

The	Waters	Off	Of	Nunavut,	Canada

The	Great	Darkening,	as	the	 rulku	called	it,	blackened	the	skies	in	seconds,	as	if a	 thousand	 crows	 suddenly	 ascended	 and	 knocked	 down	 the	 sun	 from	 its

heavenly	mantle.	All	around	the	world,	there	was	a	primordial	buzzing,	as	if	the

skies	were	shaking	to	their	foundations.	Animals	turned	their	eyes	upward.	The

rulku	doubled	over,	cradling	their	ears,	seeking	solace	in	the	earth	below.

Streams	 of	 nanobots	 circled	 the	 air,	 descending	 like	 scourges	 upon	 the

technology	below.	The	nanobots	confiscated	the	augmented	ethernet,	along	with

the	 tanks,	 attack	 cruisers,	 computers,	 and	 weapons	 of	 the	 rulku	 below.	 From London	to	Shanghai,	the	navies	stood	still	as	their	own	weapons	turned	against

them.	 The	 Night	 Eye	 circled	 the	 skies	 in	 Europe,	 coordinating	 the	 nanobots against	their	 rulku	masters.	In	 the	great	Rockies,	 Azaz	and	his	 Blood	Paw	rose on	their	hind	legs,	growling	their	battle	cry	as	if	at	evolution	itself.	Animals	from all	 the	 continents	 rose,	 from	 the	 mightiest	 of	 the	 lions,	 Kama,	 in	 Africa,	 to	 the lowliest	of	the	mice	on	the	smallest	of	the	Pacific	islands.

Off	the	coast	 of	Nunavut,	Hunter	 General	Brigand	and	 Admiral	Lyons	 stood

watching	 helplessly	 as	 the	 one	 protected	 weapon	 the	 nanobots	 had	 not	 Yet infiltrated	 flashed	 before	 them.	 Brigand	 stirred,	 contacting	 the	 ministerial council,	who,	through	breaks	in	static,	ordered	immediate	counterattacks	and	the

deployment	of	any	weapon	at	the	soldiers’	disposal.	Brigand	and	Lyons	looked	at

each	other.	Both	sought	confirmation	of	the	orders,	but	there	was	only	static	on

the	line.

“What	 are	 you	 waiting	 for?”	 Lyons	 asked,	 searching	 out	 the	 uncertainty	 in Brigand’s	eyes.	“Attack,	or	they	will	finish	us.”

“If	we	attack,	we	kill	off	every	living	animal	in	 Animus,”	Brigand	said,	“and engage	in	a	full-scale	world	war.	Enable	the	nanosphere,”	he	ordered	the	last	of

the	nanobots	nearby	after	The	Great	Darkening	fully	unfolded.

A	 technological	 shield	 ascended	 in	 perfect	 spherical	 form	 around	 the	 ship.

“Contact	the	council	again.	Enable	the	cameras,”	Brigand	ordered.

Through	 cameras	 from	 every	 ship	 in	 the	 fleet,	 from	 Iluliisatt	 to	 Manaus	 to Perth	 to	 Beijing,	 there	 was	 the	 same	 sight:	 pristine	 darkness	 and	 a	 thundering cry,	 part	 ape,	 part	 bear,	 part	 wolf,	 part	 eagle,	 part	 of	 all	 Creation,	 shaking	 the skies.	 The	 cry	 became	 animate	 on	 the	 surrounding	 ice,	 yet	 the	 cameras	 went black.	The	last	image	Brigand	saw:	a	brood	of	Amazonian	anacondas	seizing	the

ships	 of	 Manaus	 and	 South	 China	 tigers	 and	 green	 tree	 vipers	 descending	 on	 a ship	in	Chinese	waters.

The	emergency	line	for	the	council	held	the	same	static-ridden	cry:	the	cry	of

evolution.

“Too	 late	 now,”	 Admiral	 Lyons	 said.	 He	 turned	 to	 Lieutenant	 Yolsen.

“Detonate	the	bioweapon.	Start	with	the	nanocloud.”

“Belay	that	order,”	Brigand	said	to	Lieutenant	Yolsen.

“Traitor,”	Admiral	Lyons	said.	“You	heard	the	council’s	orders.”

“All	of	 Animus	hangs	in	the	balance,”	Brigand	said.	“We	can’t	be	the	first	to attack,	or	we	risk	dooming	civilization	as	we	know	it.”

“You	 have	 your	 orders,	 lieutenant,”	 Lyons	 said.	 “Fire	 now,	 before	 we’re	 all dead.”

“Fire,	and	you	kill	us,”	Brigand	said.

Lieutenant	Yolsen	hesitated	for	a	moment	before	his	finger	descended	on	the

button.

At	that	moment,	a	pack	of	orcas	butted	the	ship	from	below	as	a	celebration	of

polar	bears	marched	towards	the	edge	of	the	ice.

“You’ve	doomed	us,”	Brigand	said	to	Lyons.	“They’re	watching	us.	You	just

made	the	first	move.	Now	the	entire	animal	kingdom	will	use	this	ship’s	footage

to	justify	a	war.”

“The	war’s	already	on	us,”	Lyons	said.	“Hunters,”	he	ordered.	“Get	ready	for

combat.	Kill	whatever	penetrates	that	shield.”

Brigand	punched	Lyons	squarely	in	the	stomach.	Lyons	doubled	over.	Brigand

grabbed	hold	of	him	and	tossed	him	into	a	wall.

In	 the	 darkness,	 there	 was	 a	 buzzing	 and	 a	 gnawing.	 The	 men	 armed

themselves	 with	 their	 laser	 rifles.	 They	 looked	 outside.	 A	 pounding	 of	 metal resonated	across	the	hull.	Within	moments,	the	shield	was	down.	The	coterie	of



polar	 bears,	 eagles,	 and	 wolves	 boarded	 the	 ship.	 Brigand	 ordered	 for	 his soldiers	 to	 lower	 their	 weapons.	 Most	 shot	 anyway.	 The	 lasers	 never	 fired.	 In fact,	none	of	the	technology	on	the	ship	showed	the	faintest	sign	of	life.

Lieutenant	Yolsen	lunged	forward.	The	head	polar	bear	smacked	him	against

the	deck,	knocking	him	unconscious.	Other	officers	fought,	but	the	eagles	went

for	their	eyes	and	the	wolves	tore	at	their	legs.	The	animals	tore	at	least	twenty men	 to	 shreds	 within	 minutes,	 including	 the	 limbs	 that	 were	 left	 of	 Admiral Lyons	and	Lieutenant	Yolsen.	At	that,	the	surviving	soldiers	followed	Brigand’s

examples	and	lied	down	in	submission.

“We	surrender,”	Brigand	said.

The	 polar	 bear	 king	 growled	 out	 something	 to	 his	 fellow	 bears.	 The	 wolves nodded	 and	 joined	 in.	 Some	 nanobots	 from	 the	 bears	 flew	 to	 the	 ears	 of	 the surrendering	men.

“Can	you	understand?”	the	chief	polar	bear	asked.

“If	 you’ll	 let	 me	 use	 my	 nanotechnology,”	 Brigand	 said,	 doing	 so.	 “I	 am Hunter	General	Brigand.	We	were	on	a	surveillance	mission	to	find	out	why	we

lost	contact	with	the	nation	of	 Animus.”

“You	 mean	 that	 you	 came	 to	 find	 out	 why	 your	 spy	 technology	 no	 longer worked,”	the	polar	bear	said.	“We	will	see	your	own	cameras.	We	will	let	your

own	 technology	 condemn	 you.	 Rise.	 Come	 with	 us.	 We	 will	 bring	 you	 before our	council.	They	will	decide	your	fate.”

Brigand	ordered	his	men	to	comply,	but	the	blood	and	skin	saturating	the	ship

made	a	better	argument.	The	men	stood	and	went	without	issue.

“King	Claw?”	Brigand	asked	the	head	bear.

“White	Claw,	in	your	tongue,”	the	polar	bear	said.	“You	could	not	pronounce

my	name	in	its	original	tongue.”

“What	we	do	here	today	will	change	the	course	of	history,”	Brigand	said.	“We

must	be	careful.”

“Animal	 blood	 has	 stained	 history	 already,”	 White	 Claw	 said.	 “The	 day	 of Man	and	his	history	is	over.	You	are	now	as	I	was,	a	polar	bear	starving,	clinging to	the	last	bit	of	melting	ice.	Come	now.	Walk	before	I	take	your	legs.”

Brigand	walked	out	towards	the	open	ice,	where,	through	miles	of	snow	and

icy	peaks,	the	towering	gates	of	 Animus	stood	waiting.





CHAPTER	13

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

North	America,	South	America,	and	Beyond

Moon	 Shadow	 stood	 in	 the	 middle,	 flanked	 by	 White	 Claw,	 Sky	 Death,	 and Thunder	Killer	as	she	spoke.	Between	them,	on	their	knees,	was	an	unconscious

Brigand	and	the	last	of	his	hunters.

“Animals	of	the	world,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“The	 rulku	have	infiltrated	and

attacked	 the	 nation	 of	 Animus.	 Long	 have	 they	 been	 spying	 on	 animals	 and seeking	how	they	might	subdue	us.	Too	long	have	animals	been	at	the	whims	of

the	 rulku. 	 Now,	 they	 have	 been	 beaten.	 Rise	 and	 take	 your	 place	 as	 kings	 and queens	of	the	earth.	This	is	a	formal	declaration	of	war.	Every	 rulku	is	now	an enemy	of	 Animus.”

Before	 the	 words	 even	 made	 their	 way	 through	 the	 nanotransmitters	 to	 the larger	world,	The	March	of	the	Pets	began.	Those	that	had	been	kept	in	cages,	in

zoos,	 and	 those	 still	 held	 secretly	 by	 the	 rulku, 	 despite	 the	 banning	 of	 pets altogether,	took	to	the	streets	of	the	cities,	towns,	waters,	and	countryside	from Nunavut	all	the	way	to	the	beaches	of	Argentina	and	farther	still.	The	attack	of

the	animals	had	rendered	anything	needing	an	electric	spark	lifeless.	From	robot

servants	to	cars	to	tanks	to	laser	weapons,	nothing	functioned.	And	so,	as	at	the

beginning	 of	 time,	 the	 animals	 went	 about	 the	 streets	 and	 hunted.	 Some,	 like Dasu,	 a	 mountain	 lion	 raised	 from	 captivity,	 mourned	 for	 the	 loss	 of	 their parents.	 Still,	 the	 cry	 of	 the	 new	 earth	 led	 them	 on.	 Dasu,	 with	 a	 coterie	 of former	house	dogs	and	cats,	attacked	the	supermarkets,	waylaid	police	stations,

and	 forced	 the	 rulku	 into	 homes	 as	 the	 animals	 cried	 and	 marched	 through	 the streets.

“And	what	now?”	Fiona,	a	Siamese	cat,	asked	Dasu.

Fiona’s	 eyes,	 predatorial	 but	 not	 without	 intellect,	 spoke	 the	 rest	 of	 his thoughts	as	loudly	as	if	he	had	hissed.

“We	 must,”	 Dasu	 said.	 “If	 we	 leave	 them	 alive,	 they	 will	 just	 grow	 strong enough	to	attack.	We	must	make	sure	the	day	of	Man	never	returns.”

The	 mountain	 lion	 rose	 up	 on	 his	 hind	 legs,	 rallying	 the	 dogs,	 cats,	 house



birds,	and	scores	of	former	pets.	The	mob	of	animals	turned	back.	Just	as	mobs

of	animals	did	throughout	the	world,	Dasu,	Fiona,	and	countless	others	turned	on

their	 former	 masters,	 mauling	 them	 in	 their	 homes.	 Scientists	 like	 Dr.	 Sifa	 and Dr.	 Okada	 were	 among	 those	 targeted	 and	 killed.	 Even	 Dana	 Kahr,	 surrounded as	she	was,	was	not	immune	to	poisoning	from	a	secret	pet	dog	she	kept	despite

all	the	warnings.	Dr.	Kahr’s	lifelong	companion,	White	Star,	licked	the	doctor’s

face,	 seeing	 the	 poisoning	 as	 an	 act	 of	 mercy	 before	 Dasu	 came	 through	 the doors.	When	the	legions	of	animals	poured	through,	White	Star	drank	the	same

poison,	 taking	 his	 life.	 And	 it	 was	 not	 just	 the	 architects	 of	 the	 animal	 death camps	that	suffered	and	died.	In	Fowler’s	residence,	a	slender	woman’s	body	and

the	head	of	a	small	boy	were	found	among	the	mauled.	Everywhere,	old	ladies

screamed.	Children	cried.	And	still,	the	animals	attacked.

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California,	USA

In	the	snaking	sands	of	the	western	desert,	Methuselah	stood	as	she	had	always

stood,	indifferent	to	the	streams	of	nanobots	in	the	air	as	she	had	been	to	a	bevy of	condors	thousands	of	years	ago.	Next	to	her,	kneeling,	was	an	emaciated	man,

part	human,	part	plant,	part	animal,	breathing	in	erratic	cadences.

“I	 tried	 to	 warn	 mankind	 once,”	 Nurvlyn	 said,	 “when	 I	 was	 but	 a	 scientist.

Before	 they	 experimented	 on	 me.	 Before	 the	 man	 that	 I	 was	 died.	 Beware	 the birds	that	fly	overhead.	Beware	the	oceans	where	you	dump	your	filth.	Beware

the	 beasts	 of	 the	 rivers	 that	 you	 poison.	 Beware	 the	 predators	 that	 your	 towns endlessly	push	back.	Beware	what	stands	below,	for	it	will	soon	rise	above.”

“Your	consciousness	is	shifting	yet	again,”	Methuselah	said.	“You	are	seeing

the	days	of	your	human	life	as	a	moment,	one	particle	of	dust	measured	against

the	sands	of	eternity.”

“And	 what	 do	 you,	 who	 live	 as	 Snow	 Prophet	 sees,	 envision	 for	 this	 great conflict?”

“The	world	shifting	from	the	first	level	of	consciousness	to	the	second.”

“And	what	is	that?”

Methuselah	 paused,	 before	 adding:	 “The	 seven	 levels	 of	 consciousness	 are

always	 with	 us.	 Yet,	 few	 see	 them	 permeating	 all	 life.	 The	 first	 is	 a	 singular consciousness,	 that	 of	 a	 being	 only	 aware	 of	 its	 own	 needs.	 The	 second	 is awareness	 of	 interdependency.	 Creatures	 realize	 they	 need	 others	 as	 much	 as

they	need	themselves.	The	third	is	co-consciousness,	what	you	call	extrasensory perception,	 where	 the	 individual	 connects	 mentally,	 psychically,	 to	 other

creatures	 in	 existence.	 The	 fourth	 level	 is	 when	 this	 web	 of	 collective consciousness	unites	a	single	species.	The	fifth	level	is	when	all	species	unite	in a	 planetary	 consciousness.	 The	 sixth	 is	 a	 consciousness	 that	 is	 one	 with	 the universe,	the	realization	that	everything	is	alive	and	the	connection	to	all	life	and matter,	living	or	dead.	The	seventh	is	a	consciousness	that	unites	to	what	you	call God,	all	that	is,	in	this	universe	and	all	others.”

“Is	the	seventh	level	your	consciousness?	Is	that	what	I	am	to	join?”	Nurvlyn

asked.

“I	 am	 at	 every	 level	 and	 no	 levels	 all	 at	 once,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “True enlightenment	takes	billions	of	years,	measured	in	time.	Only	gods	achieve	this

sooner.	That	is	why	you	struggle.”

“I	feel	it	in	the	marrow	of	my	bones.”

“That	is	death,	as	you	humans	call	it.	It	is	coming.”

Nurvlyn	 shut	 his	 eyes,	 quieted	 himself,	 praying	 to	 The	 Holy	 Spirit	 in	 the world	that	surrounded	him.

As	Nurvlyn	did	so,	the	marksman	approached	his	quarry,	unhidden	against	the

desert	sands.

“I	sense	you	before	I	see	you,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“Approach.”

Fowler,	 the	 sweat	 of	 weeks	 of	 hunting	 upon	 him,	 emerged.	 Nurvlyn’s	 eyes remained	closed,	concentrating.

“You’ve	come	to	kill	me.	You’ve	come	too	late,”	Nurvlyn	said.

“My	 wife	 and	 child	 are	 dead	 because	 of	 the	 abomination	 you	 visited	 on	 our world,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “I	 could	 not	 make	 it	 back	 to	 them,	 but	 I	 can	 make	 it	 to you.”

“I	am	Nurvlyn,	or	what’s	left	of	him.”

Fowler	 held	 a	 blade	 close	 to	 Nurvlyn’s	 neck.	 “I	 wish	 I	 could,”	 he	 said, thinking	of	his	dead	family.	“But	I	must	follow	orders.	I	must	bring	you	back	to

prevent	this	war.”

“The	 one	 that	 has	 already	 begun?”	 Nurvlyn	 asked.	 “It	 was	 always	 here.	 We just	never	noticed	it.	It	will	be	here	long	after	I’m	gone.	But	it	was	not	Hunter

General	Brigand	that	ordered	you	here.	It	was	Methuselah	that	summoned	you.”

“Even	the	trees,	then,	have	intelligence?”

“Everything	has	life	and	intellect.	We	just	measure	it	differently.	Methuselah

was	my	mentor.	She	will	soon	be	yours.”

“Not	if	I	kill	you	first,”	Fowler	said,	steadying	his	blade.

“Grief	 and	 anger	 consume	 you.	 You	 must	 let	 them	 go.	 Your	 wife	 and	 child live	still,	just	in	a	distinct	form.”



Nurvlyn	opened	his	eyes	and	rose	from	kneeling.

“I	 want	 to	 believe	 you,”	 Fowler	 said,	 his	 hand	 trembling.	 “But	 the	 pain—I can’t	stop	feeling	as	the	animals	feel,	hearing	their	thoughts.”

“You’re	 awakening.	 Sometimes,	 awakenings	 are	 painful,	 as	 with	 all	 things

that	grow.	Drop	the	knife	and	join	me.”

Fowler	stared	at	the	blade’s	serrated	edges	for	a	brief	moment.	He	dropped	the

blade.

“I	was	the	first,	a	new	Adam	for	a	new	age,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“You	will	be	the

next.	 We	 are	 the	 first	 of	 a	 new	 line	 of	 rulku. 	 You	 will	 continue	 my	 work.	 As	 I gave	 balance	 to	 the	 animals,	 you	 will	 give	 balance	 to	 the	 humans	 in	 the	 last moment	of	this	war.	One	day,	where	I	go,	you	will	follow.”

Fowler	weighed	the	emaciated	man	in	front	of	him.

“Can	you	help	me	with	the	pain?”	Fowler	asked.

“Methuselah	 can.	 Join	 me	 for	 dinner.	 We	 have	 much	 to	 discuss.”	 Nurvlyn

moved	ahead,	but	Fowler	stood,	fixed,	yet	wavering.

“You	 can	 always	 kill	 me	 or	 abduct	 me	 later,	 though	 I	 wouldn’t	 survive	 the journey.	Come	along.	Methuselah	needs	her	rest.”

With	that,	Nurvlyn	journeyed	towards	the	arching	sunlight	snaking	along	the

desert.	Fowler	followed.





TABLET	2:

THE	WAR	OF	THE	 RULKU





CHAPTER	14

Gungsung	Dor	Syval

Coastal	California,	USA

Six	Months	Later

The	last	of	Brigand’s	original	brigade	of	hunters	hung	limply	in	the	trees	near	the great	rocky	coasts	of	what	was	once	northern	California.	The	only	survivor,	kept

alive	for	the	final	kill,	was	Prime	Minister	Damien	Rush.	He	stood	against	The

Blood	Paw,	his	hands	trembling	as	he	held	the	last	of	the	old-world	rifles	in	his

hand.	The	foot	of	one	of	the	other	hunters	struck	him	as	it	jostled	in	the	Pacific breeze.	 Suddenly,	 with	 a	 metal	 helm	 and	 armor	 made	 of	 nanobots,	 which	 still buzzed	 around	 the	 massive	 creature,	 came	 Commander	 Vronkyl.	 The	 gray-brown	 grizzly,	 with	 tufts	 of	 blood	 on	 his	 fur,	 growled.	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 moved aside,	 in	 formation,	 as	 the	 great	 bear	 himself,	 Azaz,	 emerged.	 The	 bear	 king trampled	 the	 brush	 beneath	 him	 as	 he	 made	 his	 way	 to	 the	 edge	 of	 the	 beach.

Rush	 aimed	 his	 rifle	 and	 took	 several	 shots.	 Azaz’s	 fangs	 became	 a	 fearsome smile	as	the	nanobots	simply	warded	the	bullets	away.	Rush,	out	of	ammunition,

fell	to	his	knees.	So	overcome	was	he	by	trying	to	outrun	the	massive	bears	after

they	devoured	the	last	of	his	guards.

Azaz,	in	gold	armor	with	a	helm	like	an	ancient	sun	king,	stood	on	four	legs

and	 approached.	 “So,	 this	 is	 the	 end	 of	 the	 great	 Western	 resistance,”	 he	 said with	a	snarl.	“This	is	the	last	of	those	who	oppose	me,	a	prime	minister	and	his

toy	gun.”

The	Blood	Paw	growled	in	uproarious	laughter.

“You,	minister,	will	not	be	hanged	like	the	others,”	Azaz	said.	“I	will	eat	your

heart	to	honor	your	courage.”

Rush	 lunged	 after	 Azaz.	 Vronkyl	 intercepted.	 In	 one	 fatal	 sweep	 of	 his	 paw, Vronkyl	 knocked	 the	 once	 mighty	 politician	 to	 the	 ground.	 The	 warrior	 bear clamped	 down	 with	 his	 fangs	 upon	 the	 former	 prime	 minister’s	 neck.	 Damien Rush	 looked	 up	 to	 see	 Azaz’s	 red	 eyes	 before	 taking	 his	 last	 breaths.	 Azaz looked	 out	 to	 the	 Pacific	 Ocean	 and	 then	 again	 at	 the	 fallen	 minister	 before saying,	“I	now	know	why	your	Alexander	the	Great	once	cried.	To	fight	the	last

fight,	to	conquer	every	known	land	except	the	great	sea	itself,	which	defies	us,



that	is	a	sad	end.	A	fighter	lives	for	the	fight.	A	bear	lives	for	the	kill.”

“The	 East	 will	 rise	 yet,”	 Rush	 said,	 between	 breaths,	 as	 he	 choked	 on	 his blood.	“This	war	is	not	over.”

The	blood	poured	from	Rush’s	neck	and	mouth	as	he	died.

“He	speaks	true,	my	lord,”	Vronkyl	said.

“So	the	most	loathsome	of	my	spies	tell	me,”	Azaz	said.	“We	have	conquered

one	coast.	Let	us	turn	around	and	conquer	another.	I	will	push	the	 rulku	off	their mountain	top	in	Washington	and	topple	every	 rulku	monument	in	my	way.	I	will rule	from	ocean	to	ocean	until	my	name	becomes	the	only	name	of	power.”

“What	 of	 the	 remaining	 rulku, 	 my	 lord?”	 Vronkyl	 asked.	 “There	 are	 still hundreds	left,	some	old,	some	infirm,	some	children.”

“Form	camps	across	the	lands,	as	far	as	the	eye	can	see,”	Azaz	said.	“Let	them

serve	 us.	 Let	 us	 have	 places	 where	 bears	 can	 feast	 endlessly	 on	 fresh	 rulku meat.”	“As	you	wish,	my	king,”	Vronkyl	said.	“Long	reign	Azaz	the	Immortal,

king	of	kings!”

The	Blood	Paw	stood	up	on	their	hind	legs,	growling	in	salute.

Ze-Kyne

South	Pacific

Hunter	General	Xavian	read	the	menace	trickling	along	the	surface	of	the	waters

as	 word	 came	 in.	 He	 could	 hardly	 believe	 the	 Xrata	 The	 White	 Death	 and	 his legion	 of	 sharks	 ceased	 in	 their	 assault	 on	 the	 ships.	 The	 sharks	 only	 held	 the line.	Something	unseen	commanded	their	every	move.

“Sir,”	 Lieutenant	 Cyphus	 said,	 handing	 over	 a	 letter.	 “Word	 from	 Prime

Minister	 Damien	 Rush’s	 former	 advisers.	 He’s	 dead. Animus	 has	 expanded	 its borders	 throughout	 Canada. Animus	 is	 met	 only	 by	 Azaz	 and	 his	 rogue	 bear army	who	have	claimed	the	western	coast	and	press	to	the	East.	The	advisers	beg

for	 an	 immediate	 response.	 Nanotechnology	 has	 held	 their	 weapons	 hostage.

Nanobot	swarms	have	diluted	and	destroyed	even	our	bioweapons.”

“And	the	other	hunter	generals?”	Xavian	asked.

Lieutenant	 Cyphus	 shook	 his	 head	 before	 saying,	 “We	 don’t	 know	 what

became	 of	 Hunter	 General	 Brigand	 since	 the	 last	 message	 from	 Animus.	 We assume	 he’s	 being	 kept	 alive,	 but	 we	 don’t	 know.	 Hunter	 General	 Fvoris	 is fighting	The	Night	Eye	and	its	armies	of	Eurasian	wolves,	boars,	and	bears	led

by	the	wolverine	lord	Groth	The	Impaler.	Fvoris	has	killed	flights	of	birds,	but

with	 The	 Night	 Eye	 governing	 Groth’s	 every	 move,	 he’s	 taken	 shelter	 in	 The Alps,	planning	to	make	his	last	stand	in	London.”

Hunter	General	Xavian	examined	the	sky.	A	storm	would	roll	over	the	waters

in	moments.	Quick	action	would	be	unlikely.

“And	what	of	Hunter	General	Velazquez?”	he	asked.

“Thraxis	 has	 sent	 armies	 of	 snakes,	 jaguars,	 monkeys,	 and	 Peruvian	 hairless dogs	to	expand	well	beyond	the	Amazon.	We	lost	contact	with	Hunter	General

Velazquez.	 He	 was	 last	 seen	 in	 The	 Andes,	 fighting	 against	 Thraxis.	 We	 don’t know	 how	 many	 former	 countries	 Thraxis	 controls.	 We	 know	 that	 Thraxis

herself	 was	 last	 seen	 in	 southern	 Mexico.	 She	 uses	 a	 nanobot	 skin	 of	 silver	 to survive.”

“She	means	to	join	with	Azaz,”	Hunter	General	Xavian	said.

“If	 we	 don’t	 stop	 their	 assault	 within	 a	 few	 weeks,	 that	 will	 become	 a	 real possibility,”	Lieutenant	Cyphus	said.

“And	 what	 of	 Hunter	 General	 Uzwali?	 How	 is	 she	 holding	 up?”	 Xavian

asked.

“Zulta	 The	 Elephant	 Lord	 and	 Yorba	 The	 Gorilla	 King	 have	 pushed	 past	 the Congo	and	taken	down	small	regimes	up	and	down	the	coast.	The	general	herself

is	 facing	 off	 against	 Yorba,	 but	 so	 far,	 it’s	 too	 early	 to	 tell	 who	 will	 emerge victorious.”

“And	Hunter	General	Zhang?”	Xavian	asked	in	reply.

“The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 the	 giant	 panda	 emperor,	 pushes	 towards	 Beijing,”

the	lieutenant	noted.	“Zhang’s	guards	protect	her,	as	they	look	at	her	as	Rush’s

successor	once	the	Americas	fall.	Yet,	she’s	lost	most	of	her	troops.	Fortunately, The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 is	 far	 more	 reasonable	 and	 wiser	 than	 Azaz	 or	 Thraxis, despite	his	name.	The	panda	lord	contains	his	enemies,	but	he	doesn’t	eat	them,

like	Azaz	reputedly	does.	He	believes	in	coexistence	with	mankind.”

Hunter	General	Xavian	looked	over	the	few	letters	that	the	emissaries	sent.

The	cry	for	help	was	universal.

“We	 need	 more	 fighters,”	 Hunter	 General	 Xavian	 said.	 “That	 leaves	 us	 little choice.	We	must	leave	Brigand,	Velazquez,	Uzwali,	and	Fvoris	to	fight	their	own

battles.	 More	 people	 are	 in	 Beijing	 than	 anywhere	 else.	 If	 we	 lose	 Beijing,	 we will	lose	the	war.	But	first,	what	about	the	news	from	Australia?”

“It’s	no	use,”	Lieutenant	Cyphus	said.	“Since	The	Great	Awakening,	Australia

has	cut	itself	off	from	the	world.	We	believe	Australian	Prime	Minister	Jarvis	to

be	 dead.	 Some	 of	 our	 ships	 have	 seen	 lights	 on	 as	 far	 as	 New	 Zealand.	 The Aussies	won’t	let	us	near	their	waters.	That	leads	our	captains	to	believe	that	The Great	Darkening	never	touched	Australian	soil.”

“Mankind’s	last	refuge,”	Hunter	General	Xavian	replied.



“If	our	fleet	goes	near	their	waters,	they	will	sink	us,”	Lieutenant	Cyphus	said.

Hunter	General	Xavian	searched	the	skies.	There	would	be	no	heading	north

tonight.

“We’ll	 stand	 longer	 than	 we	 will	 against	 those	 sharks	 and	 whatever	 ungodly creature	 guides	 them,”	 Hunter	 General	 Xavian	 said.	 “We	 should	 move	 while they	allow	it.”

“Maybe	that	is	their	plan,	to	get	to	Australia	through	us.”

Hunter	 General	 Xavian	 shook	 his	 head.	 “No,”	 he	 argued.	 “They	 could	 have killed	us,	but	they	and	their	nanobots	left	a	few	of	our	ships	unharmed	and	fully

powered.”

“It’s	almost	as	if	they	want	to	give	us	a	fighting	chance,”	Lieutenant	Cyphus

said.

“Perhaps,”	Xavian	replied.	“Their	minds	are	unreadable	to	me.”

Xavian	 took	 his	 eyes	 off	 of	 the	 circling	 line	 of	 shark	 fins.	 He	 examined	 the clouds	once	more,	as	they	released	misty	torrents	of	rain	and	hail.

“Set	course	for	the	Coral	Sea	and	Cairns,”	Xavian	ordered.

“We’ll	never	make	it,”	Lieutenant	Cyphus	argued.

“Quickly.	Before	the	sharks	and	whales	block	our	way,”	Xavian	insisted.

“Yes,	sir,”	Lieutenant	Cyphus	replied.

With	 that,	 Xavier	 watched	 the	 shark	 fins	 cut	 the	 waters	 between	 them.

Always,	 they	 moved	 with	 the	 fleet,	 never	 fully	 advancing,	 but	 ever	 ready,	 ever alert.

Uch-Alon

Chihuahuan	Desert,	Mexico

“My	empress	and	goddess,”	Vespian,	Thraxis’	boa	constrictor	commander,	said

in	greeting.

Waves	 of	 white,	 red,	 yellow,	 pink,	 and	 black	 patches	 undulated	 as	 she

slithered	 closer	 to	 her	 queen,	 The	 Great	 Snake	 of	 Being,	 who	 was	 mother	 to them	all.

“Yes,	commander,”	Thraxis	said.

Her	 tongue	 hung	 for	 a	 moment	 in	 the	 air,	 tasting	 the	 danger	 that	 surrounded her.	 Never	 in	 her	 life,	 before	 The	 Harkening,	 before	 The 	 Rapsys, 	 had	 Thraxis imagined	 the	 desert	 air	 could	 hold	 such	 life	 and	 death	 in	 the	 buffeting	 of	 its winds.	But	this	time,	she	smelled	him.	The	one	who	had	cleared	so	many	of	her

children	 from	 the	 great	 rain	 forests	 and	 swamps	 of	 the	 Amazon	 and	 then	 fled.

His	blood	was	near.

“The	 armies	 have	 slithered	 into	 the	 last	 holdout	 of	 Velazquez	 and	 his	 rulku killers	 in	 the	 Chihuahuan	 Desert.	 Our	 spider	 monkeys	 and	 jaguars	 hold	 him	 at bay.	He	has	sent	a	note	to	you,	written	in	the	language	of	the	 rulku. ”

“What	have	our	translators	been	able	to	make	of	it?”	Thraxis	asked.

“A	declaration	of	terms,	my	empress,	for	surrender,”	Vespian	answered.

“Terms?”	Thraxis	asked.

“The	head	snake	killer	requests	that	you	grant	he	and	his	people	the	desert,”

Vespian	 answered.	 “The	 rest	 of	 this	 land	 and	 the	 lower	 continent	 he	 cedes	 to you.”

Thraxis	did	not	reply	immediately.	She	tasted	more	of	the	air	with	her	tongue.

There	 was	 something	 else	 gliding	 along	 the	 edge	 of	 its	 winds.	 Fear.	 She	 tasted Man’s	fear.

“We	also	have	word	from	Azaz	in	the	North,”	Vespian	said.	“The	grizzly	king

assures	 you	 that	 his	 campaign	 will	 take	 the	 land	 between	 oceans,	 down	 to	 the Chihuahuan	Desert,	the	area	that	the	 rulku	called	Mexico.”

“Azaz	dares	mark	his	territory	with	me?”	Thraxis	asked.

“King	 Azaz	 requests	 an	 understanding	 between	 animals,”	 Vespian	 said.	 “He

says	 that	 he	 will	 leave	 you	 from	 the	 desert	 of	 the	 northern	 country	 down.	 The entire	southern	continent	will	be	yours.	King	Azaz	proposes	an	alliance.”

“Have	 you	 ever	 studied	 prehistoric	 times,	 Commander?”	 Thraxis	 asked,

slithering	closer.	“Before	mammals	ruled	the	world.	Before	the	rise	of	the	 rulku.

Before	 there	 were	 gorilla	 kings	 and	 mad	 bear	 gods,	 there	 were	 reptiles	 large enough	 to	 lord	 over	 Time	 itself.	 They	 didn’t	 crawl	 on	 the	 earth	 but	 rose	 high, like	 me.	 The	 dinosaurs,	 as	 the	 rulku	 named	 them,	 took	 their	 prey	 in	 their	 jaws and	ripped	it	to	shreds.	The	world	was	theirs.	For	millions	and	millions	of	years, our	ancestors	ruled	this	world	like	the	apex	predators	they	were.	I	swear	to	you

now:	reptiles	will	rise	to	their	rightful	place	and	rule	this	world	again.”

Thraxis	turned	from	her	view	of	the	desert	to	look	the	bowing	boa	constrictor

in	her	eyes.	“Let	us	agree	to	Azaz’s	terms	so	long	as	I	am	given	final	say	as	to

where	 the	 northern	 border	 lies,”	 Thraxis	 decreed.	 “We	 will	 work	 with	 this delusional	 dancing	 bear	 until	 we	 no	 longer	 need	 him.	 Then	 we	 will	 do	 to	 him and	to	all	mammals	what	they	have	done	to	us.	We	will	slice	them.	We	will	eat

them.	We	will	usher	in	the	new	age	of	the	reptile,	one	that	will	never	end.”

“Yes,	my	empress,”	Vespian	said.	“Shall	I	deliver	our	consent	to	Azaz?”	“No,”

Thraxis	 commanded.	 “I	 will	 send	 my	 own	 words	 through	 our	 nanoweb.	 As	 for the	 rulku	snake	killer,	lead	me	to	him.”

Vespian	nodded.	The	snake	commander	hissed	out	her	orders	to	the	legions	of



emerald	 tree	 boas,	 anacondas,	 and	 pit	 vipers.	 Their	 nanobots	 passed	 the

commands	 on	 to	 the	 jungle	 armies,	 including	 the	 howler	 and	 spider	 monkeys.

They	passed	the	commands	down	to	the	caimans	that	marched	steadily,	if	slowly,

through	the	perilous	new	terrain.	All	bowed	before	the	giant	anaconda	queen	as

she	put	on	her	silver	nanorobotic	armor	that	slithered	around	her	scales,	keeping

her	body	temperature	constant.	Thraxis’	yellow-green	eyes	had	purple	pupils	that

focused	 coldly	 on	 even	 the	 slightest	 movement.	 Slithering	 to	 the	 front	 of	 the lines,	 preceded	 only	 by	 Vespian	 and	 her	 vipers,	 Thraxis	 emerged	 to	 her	 full height,	some	ten	off	the	ground.

Hunter	 General	 Velazquez	 stepped	 forward.	 Velazquez	 waved	 off	 his	 men.

“Empress	 Thraxis,	 I	 presume,”	 he	 said.	 “We	 surrender.	 We	 ask	 only	 that	 you allow	us	a	place	to	live,	somewhere	secluded,	in	the	remote	deserts.”

Velazquez	relied	on	Vespian	and	nanotechnology	to	translate	his	words.

“Somewhere	free	of	snakes,	I	would	imagine,”	Thraxis	muttered	to	Vespian.

Vespian	did	not	translate	this.

“The	 rulku	 are	 such	 timid	 prey.	 Like	 mice,”	 Thraxis	 said.	 “They	 lash	 out, starting	 wars	 they	 can’t	 finish.	 Such	 has	 been	 their	 way	 for	 hundreds	 of thousands	of	years.	Here,	commander,	we	finish	our	wars	the	way	we	finish	our

prey.”

Thraxis	nodded	at	Vespian,	who	translated.

Velazquez	motioned	to	his	soldiers,	but	it	was	too	late.	Vipers	struck	his	neck,

and	he	fell.	The	hundreds	of	soldiers	left	fired	whatever	guns	they	had	left,	but

the	snake	army’s	nanobots	swarmed	the	weapons	of	the	 rulku	 within	 moments, incapacitating	 them.	 Velazquez’s	 soldiers	 lunged.	 The	 caimans,	 jaguars,	 boa constrictors	and	anacondas	finished	them,	pouncing,	strangling,	and	consuming

them	until	the	army	of	the	 rulku	was	no	more.

“Watch	your	men	and	women	die, rulku	killer,	the	way	I	watched	for	eons	as you	 killed	 my	 children,”	 Thraxis	 said,	 slithering	 closer	 to	 Velazquez’s	 dying body.

“If	only	I	had	killed	more,”	Velazquez	said,	in	gasps,	as	the	poison	set	in.

Thraxis	wrapped	around	him,	squeezing	the	life	out	of	Velazquez,	staring	him

coldly	 in	 the	 eye	 every	 second	 as	 she	 did	 so.	 Before	 Velazquez	 died,	 Thraxis unhinged	her	jaws.	Paralyzed	and	fighting	for	his	last	breaths	of	air,	Velazquez

screamed.	His	black	eyes	showed	the	fear	that	Thraxis	had	smelled	all	about	the

air	 moments	 earlier.	 Thraxis’	 mouth	 went	 over	 his	 legs,	 slowly	 swallowing	 the man	whole.





CHAPTER	15

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

Brigand,	 the	 prisoner,	 had	 been	 working	 with	 nanotechnology	 all	 day	 in	 the frigid	Nunavut	tundra	when	he	saw	the	polar	bear	in	the	distance.	The	creature,

with	a	purple	haze	in	its	great,	icy	eyes,	stared	down	at	him	before	signaling	to

an	 eagle.	 The	 eagle	 flew	 by	 once,	 examining	 the	 work	 of	 the	 rulku,	 before landing	 on	 the	 ice	 directly	 behind	 where	 Brigand	 worked	 on	 the	 force	 field fence.

The	 eagle	 shrieked,	 but	 the	 nanobots,	 now	 hovering	 all	 around	 the	 massive bald	eagle,	translated.

“Prisoner,	you	have	done	well,”	the	eagle’s	nanobots	said.	“The	containment

facility	for	man	beasts	will	keep	them	from	coming	to	greater	harm.	Come	now.

The	bear	king	White	Claw	wishes	to	speak	to	you.”

The	 eagle	 spread	 its	 wings,	 a	 spread	 long	 enough	 to	 blot	 out	 the	 sun,	 as	 it hoisted	itself	up	in	the	air	and	disappeared	into	the	clouds.

Brigand	 turned	 and	 walked	 towards	 the	 polar	 bear.	 The	 respected	 wolf,	 the one	they	called	Moon	Shadow,	stood	at	his	side.	Next	to	Moon	Shadow	stood	the

bulbous	turkey	vulture	that	Brigand	understood	to	be	the	brains	behind	the	polar

bear’s	unwieldy	might.

“What	do	you	want	of	me?”	Brigand	asked.

“Sit	on	the	ice,”	White	Claw	growled	through	his	nanobots.	“We	have	much	to

discuss.”

Brigand	sat,	staring	blankly	ahead,	saying	nothing.

“We	 have	 reviewed	 the	 ship	 records,”	 White	 Claw	 said.	 “We	 have	 even	 sent them,	 along	 with	 your	 weapons,	 for	 greater	 analysis	 to	 the	 ocean	 lords.	 The video	is	clear.	You	had	the	chance	to	use	your	weapon,	to	kill	all	life	on	this	land, yet	you	chose	not	to	do	it.	I	wanted	to	ask	you:	why?”

“I’m	sure	the	tape	shows	my	words,”	Brigand	said.

“In	 your	 own	 words,”	 Sky	 Death	 said	 between	 cackles.	 “Now.	 As	 your	 king commands.”

“This	 thing	is	not	my	king.”

The	 eagle	 from	 the	 sky	 swooped	 down	 like	 a	 mighty	 thunderbird,	 lifting Brigand	and	then	thrusting	him	on	his	knees.

“That’s	 enough,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “We	 have	 the	 power	 to	 kill	 you	 and

your	kind,	Hunter	General.	I	would	advise	you	to	speak.”

“The	reason	I	didn’t	annihilate	you	all	is	simple.	If	I	learned	one	thing	from

the	 smoke	 of	 the	 crematoria,	 it’s	 this:	 We	 get	 nowhere	 by	 killing	 one	 another,”

Brigand	said.	“We	survive	by	working	together.	If	I	kill	you,	a	part	of	the	world

dies	with	you.”

White	Claw	and	Moon	Shadow	stared	at	each	other.

“I	 suppose	 that’s	 not	 something	 beasts	 like	 you	 understand,”	 Brigand	 said.

Thunder	Killer	knocked	the	man	with	a	wing,	but	Brigand	kept	where	he	was,	on

the	ice,	still	kneeling.

“We	 have	 need	 of	 an	 emissary	 to	 the	 rulku,” 	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “The animals	are	creating	a	land	for	those	who	surrender,	a	safe	zone.	White	Claw	and

I	 would	 like	 for	 you	 to	 be	 the	 voice	 of	 your	 people.	 We	 would	 like	 you	 to encourage	 them	 to	 surrender	 for	 their	 own	 survival.	 We	 have	 heard	 words	 of revolt	among	your	people.”

Brigand	said	nothing.	He	simply	stared	directly	ahead.

“It’s	either	that	or	more	hard	labor,”	White	Claw	said.	“You	decide.”	Brigand

rose	 from	 his	 knees.	 He	 stared	 White	 Claw	 in	 the	 eye.	 Brigand	 turned	 and walked	back	through	the	ice.

When	he	was	gone,	White	Claw	turned	to	Moon	Shadow	and	said,	“What	did

I	tell	you?	He’s	a	fighter.	The	 rulku	general	only	waits	for	the	right	time	to	strike.

He’d	rather	go	down	fighting.”

“In	 time,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “He’s	 a	 leader	 first	 and	 foremost.	 Once	 this Brigand	sees	his	people	in	need,	he	will	lead	them.	That’s	what	leaders	do.”

“That	 may	 not	 be	 long,”	 Sky	 Death	 said.	 “Azaz	 and	 Thraxis	 are	 making

incredible	gains.	Our	spies	tell	us	that	they	may	seek	to	unite	and	test	our	border defenses.	 And	 always	 there	 is	 King	 Blu,	 who	 watches	 steadily,	 but	 says

nothing.”

“A	 snake	 and	 a	 bear	 tolerate	 each	 other	 only	 so	 long	 as	 they	 need	 to.

Eventually,	their	insatiable	hunger	will	consume	them,	turning	them	against	each

other,”	Thunder	Killer	said.

“Let’s	 hope	 they	 don’t	 kill	 every	 last	 rulku	 before	 that	 happens,”	 Moon Shadow	said.

“The	device,”	White	Claw	asked	Thunder	Killer,	“did	you	place	it	upon	him?”

Thunder	 Killer	 nodded.	 “Wherever	 he	 goes,	 we	 will	 know,”	 the	 eagle	 king said.	“He	will	be	our	emissary,	whether	he	wishes	to	be	or	not.”

The	council	sat,	watching	Brigand	until	he	disappeared	behind	the	great	wall



of	the	North,	the	nanobots	circling	around	him.

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California,	USA

The	 sun	 split	 along	 the	 rock	 crevices,	 igniting	 the	 sands.	 Fowler	 watched	 as Nurvlyn	kneeled	next	to	the	majestic	bristlecone	pine	that	had	served	as	a	ward

of	 the	 ages.	 He	 saw	 only	 the	 movement	 of	 the	 needles	 in	 the	 wind,	 but	 saw Nurvlyn	 speaking	 in	 a	 strange	 new	 tongue.	 After	 the	 sun	 shifted	 and	 morning waned	with	cloud	and	sun,	Nurvlyn	turned	to	Fowler.

“Methuselah	wishes	to	speak	with	you	now,”	Nurvlyn	said.

“So,	this	Methuselah	is	the	greatest	intelligence	on	the	planet?”	Fowler	asked.

“A	tree	out	in	the	wilderness,	away	from	animals.	How	am	I	supposed	to	speak?

I	can’t	understand	what	you	said.”

“Center	 yourself	 and	 listen,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “She	 will	 find	 a	 way	 to	 speak	 to you.”

For	 a	 good	 few	 moments,	 Fowler	 stood	 by	 the	 tree,	 examining	 its	 snaking branches.	Nurvlyn	kneeled	again,	lost	in	meditation.

“Strange	animal,”	Methuselah	said.	“You	run	around	always.	To	find	peace	in

others,	you	must	first	find	peace	within	yourself.”

“Peace,”	 Fowler	 said,	 thinking	 of	 his	 dead	 wife	 and	 son.	 “I’d	 forgotten	 the word.”

Fowler	 paced	 for	 a	 moment,	 saying,	 “You	 know	 I	 must	 bring	 Nurvlyn	 back, right?	Understanding	him	is	the	only	way	we	can	end	the	nanovirus	that	plagues

the	animals.”

“He’ll	never	make	the	journey,”	Methuselah	said.	“By	the	time	the	last	stroke

of	war	ends,	Nurvlyn	will	join	with	us	in	a	new	consciousness.”

“I	must	try—for	the	lives	of	my	people,”	Fowler	insisted.	“So	that	they	don’t

end	up	like	my	family	did.”

The	breeze	blew	by,	and	Methuselah	added,	“Just	as	the	wind	shifts	the	sands,

so	 too	 has	 your	 nanovirus,	 as	 you	 call	 it,	 shifted	 consciousness	 on	 this	 planet.

You	cannot	stop	a	war	that	has	raged	since	you	first	crawled	from	the	sea.	What

you	can	do	is	to	be	flexible,	to	allow	the	breeze	to	shape	you.	You	can	learn	this from	me.”

“Shape	me?	People	are	dying—families,	kids,”	Fowler	argued.

“Nothing	 truly	 dies,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “Not	 forever.	 It	 just	 alters



consciousness.	 And	 that	 is	 what	 you	 and	 your	 people	 must	 do	 if	 you	 wish	 to survive.	 The	 mobiles	 must	 seek	 to	 form	 a	 more	 perfect	 union	 with	 nature.	 You must	find	a	new	place	for	yourselves.	You	must	adapt	to	survive.	You	must	move

beyond	revenge.	Whereas	tyrants	like	Azaz	and	Thraxis	fight	with	anger	flared

by	 eons	 of	 evolutionary	 advantages,	 you	 must	 fight	 with	 wisdom.	 And	 with peace.	Only	those	who	fight	from	a	place	of	peace	can	ever	truly	win	a	war.”

For	 a	 moment,	 Fowler	 felt	 mystified.	 Not	 so	 much	 by	 the	 words	 of

Methuselah,	 but	 by	 her	 presence.	 He	 could	 smell	 in	 her	 bristlecone	 pines	 the wisdom	of	ages	and	feel	in	her	presence	a	spirit	that	towered	over	even	the	sky.

“I	feel	your	rage	and	your	pain,”	Methuselah	said.	“You	are	right	to	feel	them.

Still,	 you	 must	 heal	 them	 before	 you	 fight.	 Listen	 to	 me,	 Fowler:	 the	 time	 to investigate	 nanotechnology	 is	 over.	 The	 time	 to	 adapt	 is	 at	 hand.	 On	 this,	 the survival	of	all	of	humanity	depends.”

“So,	I	will	fight	Azaz	one	more	time?”	Fowler	asked.

“Yes.	 You	 will	 see	 each	 other	 again,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “Only	 this	 time,	 you must	 show	 the	 wisdom	 of	 peace.	 You	 must	 be	 like	 a	 tree,	 firmly	 planted,	 yet bending	 in	 the	 winds	 of	 the	 storm.	 When	 you	 fight	 Azaz	 with	 total	 tranquility and	peace	of	mind,	he	will	fall.	The	hands	of	many	will	be	upon	him.”

“Azaz	is	powerful,”	Fowler	said,	“more	powerful	than	me.”

“Nothing	 is	 more	 powerful	 than	 love,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “You	 must	 learn	 to love	 everything	 in	 every	 moment	 as	 you	 loved	 your	 wife	 and	 child.	 When	 you love	all	that	is,	even	your	enemies,	you	will	be	ready	for	Azaz,	Thraxis,	and	their kind.”

Fowler	stood	for	a	moment,	reflecting	upon	Methuselah’s	words.

“That	is	enough	talk	for	now,	my	son,”	Methuselah	said.	“Now,	join	Nurvlyn.

Kneel	and	rest	your	mind.	Only	then	will	you	feel	the	peace	flow	in	your	veins.”

Fowler	kneeled.	In	the	desert	quiet,	he	felt	what	Methuselah	had	described.	A

pain,	 an	 unquiet	 rage,	 eating	 at	 him	 from	 within.	 How	 he	 longed	 to	 kill,	 to dismember	 the	 bear	 and	 snake	 that	 killed	 so	 many	 of	 his	 people,	 including	 his own	flesh	and	blood.	How	he	longed	to	look	White	Claw	in	the	eye	on	the	field

of	battle.	Still,	Fowler	offered	up	all	of	that	to	the	winds,	and	he	felt	the	winds caress	 him	 for	 his	 dubious	 gift.	 For	 the	 first	 time	 since	 he	 was	 a	 child,	 Fowler felt	something	other	than	war.

Ze-Kyputy

Pacific	Ocean,	Australia

As	the	ships	of	thinking	metal	sailed	closer,	the	nanobots	spread	out	in	greeting, taking	to	the	sky	and	the	waters	in	golden	epiphany.	A	whole	shield	of	red	lights, nanobots	 of	 another	 order,	 approached	 on	 the	 waves,	 flashing	 a	 message	 of warning.	 Xavian	 and	 Cyrus	 looked	 at	 each	 other,	 the	 afterglow	 of	 an	 uncertain fate	 hanging	 in	 their	 eyes.	 The	 nanobots	 on	 each	 side	 amassed,	 the	 red	 lights becoming	 a	 massive	 sea	 dragon,	 the	 ones	 defending	 the	 boats,	 a	 chimera	 of endless	 color.	 The	 ephemeral	 monsters	 fought	 until	 Xavian	 sent	 a	 single

message,	news	of	the	fall	of	mankind.	Then	the	creatures	disassembled,	and	the

waters	became	lightless.

“Leave	 for	 your	 own	 safety,	 and	 for	 ours,”	 an	 airy	 voice	 said	 through	 the blinking	of	the	nanobots.

“We	need	help,”	Xavian	said,	“or	the	war	is	truly	over.”

“There	is	no	war	here,”	the	voice	said.	“Only	pestilence	and	plague.”	Hunter

General	Xavian	searched	out	the	night	for	some	sign	of	his	adversary.	All	he	saw

was	black	clouds	upon	black	waters.

“Yet	you	survive,”	Xavian	said.

“Only	a	few,”	the	voice	said.	“So	many	fell	that	mankind	made	peace	with	the

enlightened	animals	who	survived.	You	speak	of	war.	You	don’t	yet	realize	what

it	is	you	and	your	animal	enemies	will	face.	Go	now.	Save	yourselves.”

“I	must	speak,”	Xavian	insisted.

“Very	 well	 then,”	 a	 hooded	 figure	 said	 upon	 an	 advancing	 skiff.	 “It’s	 your death.	Join	me	on	the	metal	island.	I	would	like	to	hear	news	about	the	war.	Not

much	news	reaches	us,	not	now.”

“That	may	have	been	a	blessing,”	Xavian	replied.

Xavian	 motioned	 Lieutenant	 Cyphus	 and	 the	 crew.	 The	 crew	 altered	 their

course,	 towards	 a	 gathering	 of	 nanotechnology	 so	 vast	 it	 breached	 the	 waters.

There,	 between	 a	 hazy	 white	 screen	 of	 light	 generated	 by	 the	 nanotechnology, Xavian	 saw	 not	 a	 man,	 but	 a	 giant	 crocodile	 with	 humanoid	 limbs	 and	 a	 great tail.	He	froze.

“I	am	an	animal,”	the	creature	said.	“But	part	of	me	is	still	human.”

“This,”	Xavian	said,	“is	the	plague	you	speak	of?”

“This	is	the	body’s	response	in	a	select	few,”	the	creature	said.	“The	plague,

sparked	by	nanotoxins,	kills	everything	it	comes	into	contact	with.”

“My	God,”	Xavian	said.

“Isolated	 as	 we	 are,”	 the	 creature	 said,	 “many	 of	 our	 animal	 species	 still thrive,	as	they	have	for	thousands	of	years,	unaffected,	unawakened,	occupying

our	 dry	 lands	 and	 our	 jungles.	 But	 there	 is	 the	 land	 of	 human	 survivors,	 to	 the east.	All	other	lands	are	mine.”

“What	shall	I	call	you?”	Xavian	asked.



“I	am,	in	your	tongue,	King	Croc,”	the	creature	answered.	“My	jaws	would	be

your	death,	but	I	am	not	hungry.	My	crocodile	children	only	sail	so	far.	Besides,

the	human	left	in	me	still	pities	you.	It’s	like	looking	back	at	a	primitive	animal doomed	before	its	time.”

Xavian	 said	 nothing.	 He	 looked	 and	 realized	 thousands	 of	 crocodiles	 now

surrounded	his	ships.

“I	can’t	let	you	on	my	land,”	King	Croc	said,	“or	I	risk	infecting	my	people—

and	you.	This	is	the	deal	we	struck	with	the	great	lord	of	the	sea	to	survive.	I	will discuss	 with	 my	 people	 what	 shall	 become	 of	 you.	 You	 must	 stay	 here	 for tonight.”

With	 that,	 there	 was	 a	 splash,	 and	 the	 great	 crocodile-human	 hybrid	 was	 no more.

Cyphus’	eyes	met	Xavian’s.	But	even	they	were	not	full	of	recrimination,	but

of	fear.	Neither	said	a	word.	They	only	retreated	back	into	the	folds	of	men.





CHAPTER	16

Klang	Uktor

Congo,	Africa

Only	matted	jungle	ferns	sheltered	Uzwali’s	forces	from	the	advancing	gorillas.

What	 ground	 the	 rulku	 gained,	 they	 lost	 to	 Kama’s	 legion	 of	 lions,	 Zulta’s elephantine	 army,	 and	 Yorba’s	 apes.	 Even	 Gray	 Eyes,	 with	 her	 reticulating serpentine	body,	haunted	them,	preaching	doom	from	the	treetops	above.

“It’s	over,”	Bisa,	Uzwali’s	second-in-command,	said.

Bisa	was	a	lean,	muscular	woman,	as	powerful	mentally	as	she	was	physically.

For	her	to	give	up	the	fight	meant	that	there	was	no	fight	left.

“We’re	 outnumbered,”	 Bisa	 said.	 “Every	 pulse	 in	 the	 jungle	 is	 against	 us.

Have	you	contacted	the	ministerial	council	yet?”

Hunter	General	Uzwali	searched	the	arching	jungle	palm	fronds	separating	her

from	the	death	songs	of	the	gorillas.	Their	cries	were	audible	above	the	calls	of

birds	and	insects	in	the	distance.

“I	can	reach	no	one,”	Uzwali	said.	“It’s	as	if	the	world	went	silent	all	at	once.”

“What	shall	I	tell	the	soldiers?”	Bisa	asked.

Uzwali	 shook	 her	 head.	 Once,	 in	 the	 times	 before	 the	 end	 of	 times,	 she	 had been	an	Olympian.	She	was	one	of	the	greatest	long-distance	runners	and	javelin

throwers	 of	 her	 generation.	 But	 this	 was	 a	 different	 marathon,	 stained	 in	 the blood	of	the	innocent.	Uzwali’s	men	and	women	had	lost	hope,	and	she	had	no

more	hope	to	give.

“I	can’t	order	their	surrender,”	Uzwali	said.	“Not	yet.	From	all	accounts,	this

Yorba	The	Ape	King	is	prideful	and	angry.	If	I	can	challenge	him,	if	I	can	take

him	out,	we	might	at	least	make	it	easier	for	whatever	militia	takes	up	the	fight

after	we’re	dead.”

Bisa	shook	her	head.	“Respectfully,	hunter	general,”	she	said,	“you’d	stand	no

chance	against	a	mountain	gorilla.	Yorba	would	tear	you	apart	one	limb	at	a	time

and	enjoy	hearing	your	cries	for	mercy.”

Uzwali	searched	for	Bisa’s	eyes.	“You	realize	that	I’m	not	expecting	it	to	be	a

fair	 fight,”	 she	 said.	 “Whatever	 happens	 when	 the	 gorillas	 get	 to	 us,	 keep whatever	 working	 weapons	 you	 still	 have	 close	 by.	 We	 must	 kill	 Yorba	 if	 we

have	any	hope	of	saving	this	continent	from	untold	years	of	bloodshed.”

“The	gorillas	will	never	allow	it,”	Bisa	said.

“We	must	outwit	them,”	Uzwali	insisted,	“even	if	it	means	our	deaths.	It’s	the

only	 way	 to	 buy	 time	 to	 allow	 our	 men	 and	 women	 to	 retreat	 and	 hide

themselves	from	slaughter.	Are	we	agreed?”

Uzwali	stared	at	Bisa	until	Bisa	nodded	back.	“Yes,	my	general,”	Bisa	said	in

a	near	whisper.

“In	 the	 meantime,”	 Uzwali	 ordered,	 “take	 to	 the	 trees.	 Kill	 whatever	 snakes you	must	and	get	ready.	Take	out	a	few	gorillas.	Then	flee.”

The	last	of	the	militia	stood	waiting.	Gray	Eyes,	the	harbinger	of	doom,	was

the	first	to	appear	in	the	branches	overhead.

“Little	animal	lost,”	Gray	Eyes	hissed	and	sang,	in	his	serpentine	voice,	“why

so	 sad?	 How	 long	 ago	 you	 wandered	 astray,	 and	 now	 we’ve	 found	 you.	 Death you	gave	to	us;	death	we	shall	repay.”

The	 boa	 constrictor	 dropped,	 crushing	 one	 of	 Uzwali’s	 militia	 men.	 The

soldier	 struggled	 to	 free	 himself	 from	 the	 massive	 python.	 Uzwali	 signaled	 her men	 to	 attack	 the	 great	 snake.	 Before	 their	 guns	 could	 fire,	 a	 pack	 of	 hyenas came	in	from	behind,	cackling.	Uzwali	turned	her	militia’s	guns	on	the	hyenas,

only	 to	 be	 knocked	 down	 by	 spider	 monkeys	 swinging	 overhead.	 The	 militia turned,	 using	 its	 few	 working	 guns	 to	 reduce	 the	 numbers	 of	 monkeys	 and hyenas.	 Kama	 and	 the	 pride	 of	 lions	 pounced.	 The	 lions	 took	 down	 several	 of Uzwali’s	 last	 soldiers,	 clamping	 down	 on	 their	 necks	 with	 their	 massive	 feline jaws.

“Hide,”	 Uzwali	 whispered	 to	 Bisa	 and	 her	 nearest	 soldiers.	 “Ready

yourselves.”

At	her	words,	Gray	Eyes,	releasing	his	prey,	rose	to	his	full	form,	the	nanobots

like	 a	 second	 skin	 around	 him.	 Gray	 Eyes	 struck,	 seeking	 to	 coil	 around Uzwali’s	body	until	Uzwali	pulled	her	machete	and	cut	at	the	snake.	The	python

applied	more	pressure,	releasing	its	jaws,	ready	to	consume	the	hunter	general’s

arms.	 Uzwali	 grabbed	 hold	 of	 the	 snake	 seer’s	 head.	 Looking	 into	 his	 vacant, ashen	 eyes,	 she	 said,	 “Tell	 me,	 oracle,	 can	 you	 see	 your	 own	 death	 in	 my reflection?”

Uzwali	struck	again.	Gray	Eyes	retreated	to	the	shadows	and	the	trees.	Uzwali

stood	back,	regaining	her	breath,	when	a	shadow	overtook	her.	Up	ahead	stood	at

least	fifty,	if	not	more,	mountain	gorillas	pounding	their	chests	and	chanting	for war.	 One	 apelike	 cry,	 shriller	 than	 the	 rest,	 parted	 them.	 Among	 the	 gorillas, Uzwali	saw	the	great	dark	ape	who	stood	like	a	lost	idol	among	the	number.	His

eyes	 were	 a	 deep	 purple	 and	 held	 centuries	 within	 them.	 Uzwali	 stared	 at	 this creature	removed	from	time,	awaiting	his	words.

“Yorba	The	Conqueror,”	Uzwali	said.

“Uzwali	The	Conquered,”	Yorba	replied.

The	gorillas	chanted	and	grunted	in	an	unholy	union.

“Let	me	die,”	Uzwali	said,	“fighting	a	king.	Let	me	not	fall	at	the	hands	of	a

false	prophet,”	she	said,	eying	the	shadow	of	the	snake	seer	in	the	trees.	“Please.

Make	me	pay,	but	spare	my	men	and	women.”

“You	who	poach	my	lands,	who	kill	my	brethren	and	children,	you	dare	to	ask

anything	of	me?”	Yorba	inquired.	“How	many	snakes	and	apes	have	you	killed?

How	much	of	Mother	Earth’s	blood	lies	at	your	feet?”

“Nowhere	 near	 enough,”	 Uzwali	 said,	 standing	 erect.	 “One	 kill	 remains.	 I challenge	you	to	a	fight	to	the	death.	Just	you	and	me.	Unless	the	great	ape	king

is	not	as	mighty	as	they	say.”

“Typical	 rulku, ”	 Yorba	 said.	 “You	 must	 earn	 the	 fight	 that	 you	 so	 savor.”

Yorba	snapped	his	gorilla	fingers.	A	new	figure	emerged.	The	giant	lion,	with	a

mane	of	metal	and	fire,	emerged,	its	purple	eyes	set	in	a	blaze	against	its	yellow-white	fur.	The	cry	of	the	proverbial	king	of	the	jungle	was	unmistakable.	Uzwali

saw	herself	face	to	face	with	Shikar,	Kama’s	best	warrior.

“So	be	it,”	Uzwali	said.

The	 lion	 steadily	 paced	 around	 its	 prey.	 With	 snarls	 and	 deep,	 guttural	 cries, the	lion	prepared	itself	for	the	pounce.	Uzwali	readied	herself,	never	taking	her

eyes	 off	 the	 mightier	 predator.	 The	 moment	 the	 lion	 moved,	 Uzwali	 closed	 her eyes,	 communicating	 to	 her	 nanobots	 with	 her	 thoughts.	 The	 lion	 used	 its nanobots	 to	 add	 a	 whiplike	 edge	 to	 its	 tail	 and	 to	 lengthen	 its	 claws.	 Uzwali waited	 until	 the	 whip	 struck.	 Her	 nanobots	 wrapped	 around	 the	 tail,	 forming	 a sharp	 spear.	 They	 struck	 the	 tail,	 stabbing	 at	 the	 nanobots	 until	 they	 fell.	 Only the	lion	remained.

Uzwali	 waved	 the	 animal	 on.	 Shikar	 lunged	 forward,	 taking	 Uzwali	 down.

The	mighty	lion	shook	and	dragged	the	blood	from	its	prey	until	it	could	get	a

clear	 shot	 at	 the	 neck.	 Overpowered	 and	 unable	 to	 strike,	 Uzwali	 waited.	 The lion	leaped.	Uzwali	shut	her	eyes.	The	nanobots	formed	a	spear	once	more.	The

lion	lunged	to	its	own	incapacitation.

“Blood	for	blood,”	Uzwali	said.

The	lion	regained	itself.	Even	in	the	throes	of	an	inevitable	death,	Shikar	saw

Uzwali’s	 neck,	 warm	 and	 exposed.	 The	 champion	 of	 lions	 lunged	 when	 shots rang	out	from	the	trees.	The	lion	dropped,	mortally	wounded.	Gorillas	fell	before

their	bodies	hit	the	jungle	floor.

“Not	so	weak	as	she	would	seem,”	Yorba	said,	eying	Uzwali.	“To	the	trees,”

Yorba	commanded	the	snakes,	monkeys,	and	gorillas.	“Let	them	all	fall	to	their

deaths	before	the	night	is	out.”



Yorba	approached	Uzwali,	took	her	by	her	bloodied	arm.	“And	you,”	he	said.

“Come	with	me.	You	will	soon	get	your	wish,	but	not	before	you	see	every	last

drop	of	your	people’s	blood	spill	before	your	eyes.”

Shots	 rang	 out	 as	 the	 human	 fighters	 fell.	 Great	 cries	 of	 anguished	 triumph took	to	the	trees.	Yorba	dragged	Uzwali	along,	towards	the	last	vestige	of	jungle

mountains	shadowed	in	the	distance.

Yvot-Sing

Beijing,	China

Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 the	 heralded	 panda	 emperor,	 sat	 in	 his	 palace	 of stone,	 meditating.	 He	 sought	 something	 higher,	 some	 sign	 from	 his	 ancestral kings	about	the	battle	ahead.	Yet,	the	stone	was	silent,	and	the	earth	more	silent still.

“My	lord,	we	are	ready	to	advance,”	Jiao,	the	Siberian	tigress,	said.

The	 tigress	 bowed	 her	 orange,	 white,	 and	 black	 head.	 Jiao’s	 emerald	 eyes reflected	the	vision	of	the	beast	before	her.

The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 tall	 as	 a	 small	 tree,	 got	 up	 from	 the	 earth.	 With	 his white	and	black	matted	fur,	with	unnatural	touches	of	silver,	Yu	looked	like	some

deity	hastily	placed	boulder	upon	boulder	into	a	makeshift	body	and	gave	it	an

uncertain	 breath	 of	 life.	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 already	 far	 into	 his	 fifties	 in rulku	 years,	 was	 something	 of	 an	 anomaly.	 Yu	 was	 the	 oldest	 known	 panda	 to ever	live,	one	whose	technological	magic	had	left	a	dubious	number	of	years.

“What	news	from	our	allies?”	The	Golden	Nightmare	asked.

“Azaz	 marches	 on	 Washington	 in	 the	 West.	 The	 Night	 Eye	 and	 Groth	 the

Impaler	 march	 towards	 the	 east	 of	 Europe.	 Thraxis	 has	 taken	 the	 lower

Americas.	Yorba	claims	supremacy	in	most	of	the	African	continent.	Zulta	rivals

him.	 In	 the	 North,	 no	 one	 challenges	 White	 Claw	 and	 Moon	 Shadow.	 At	 sea, King	Blu	allowed	a	few	fleets	to	pass.	Most	ships	have	anchored	where	they	are.

Zhang’s	forces	are	crumbling.	She	means	to	face	us	in	Beijing.”

“It’s	total	domination	then,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.	“Sounds	all	too	easy.

Nothing	ever	is	where	the	man	beasts	are	concerned.”

Jiao	raised	her	head	and	said,	“There	is,	of	course,	one	phantom	fleet.”

“A	ghost	fleet?	Where	was	it	last	seen?”	The	Golden	Nightmare	asked.	Jiao	let

up	 a	 half-roar,	 one	 equal	 measure	 of	 annoyance	 and	 trepidation.	 She	 said,	 “Off our	 coasts,	 sir,	 off	 of	 mainland	 China	 in	 the	 South	 Sea.	 It	 disappeared.	 Some



speculate	it	drifted	into	Oceania.	Others	say	that	it	went	to	the	lost	continent	the rulku	call	Australia.	We	believe	King	Blu	and	his	sharks	may	be	protecting	the fleet	for	reasons	we	cannot	claim	to	know.”

“The	Night	Eye	has	spies	even	in	the	southern	seas,”	The	Golden	Nightmare

said.	“They	relay	tales	of	abomination	in	Australia.	Tales	of	a	crocodile	god	that devours	men	whole.”

“All	rumors,”	Jiao	said.	“Still,	Xrata,	King	Blu’s	top	admiral,	won’t	let	any	of

our	spies	through.”

“Most	irregular,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.	“But	we	must	worry	about	the

ocean	king	later.	Right	now,	we	must	prepare	our	armor.”

The	Golden	Nightmare	closed	his	great	purple	eyes.	A	haze	of	silver	and	gold

mesh	 armor	 fit	 over	 his	 limbs	 and	 body.	 The	 remaining	 nanobots	 swirled	 in	 a silver-white	wind	below	the	emperor’s	massive	body,	lifting	the	great	panda	up

Buddha-like	as	he	hovered	in	the	sky.

“How	many	have	fallen?”

“The	 rulku	killed	thirty	of	my	tigers	and	fifteen	of	your	bears	in	our	last	battle in	the	forests,”	Jiao	said.	“A	mass	of	 rulku	have	marched	to	their	fallen	city	of Beijing	for	one	last	push.	Zhang	is	among	them.”

“How	many	of	their	kind	have	died?”	The	Golden	Nightmare	asked.

“Thousands,”	Jiao	answered.

The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 held	 Jiao’s	 eyes	 as	 he	 said,	 “I	 would	 not	 wipe	 them from	 the	 face	 of	 the	 earth.	 Create	 a	 camp	 only,	 close	 to	 me,	 in	 the	 Min Mountains.	 Let	 them	 choose	 between	 a	 nature	 reserve	 and	 death.	 I	 would	 not have	the	blood	of	so	many	of	Earth’s	creatures	on	my	hands.”

“You’re	too	kind,	my	lord,”	Jiao	said,	in	a	low,	guttural	roar.

“Send	 my	 spider	 monkeys,	 gibbons,	 and	 macaques	 to	 make	 a	 lot	 of	 noise

first,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.	“Your	Siberian	tigers,	wild	boars,	and	snow

leopards	 will	 follow,	 killing	 any	 who	 do	 not	 lay	 down	 arms.	 The	 pandas	 will then	come	in	to	secure	the	lands.”

“As	 you	 wish,”	 Jiao	 said.	 The	 nanobots	 gave	 an	 extra	 metallic	 tinge	 to	 her massive,	spear-like	teeth.	“Let	The	Great	Hunt	begin.”





CHAPTER	17

Hi-Ren

Madrid,	Spain

The	flitting	murder	of	crows,	ravens,	and	kites	known	as	The	Night	Eye	hovered

above	Groth	as	he	marched	into	the	streets	of	Madrid,	towards	shards	of	the	two

fallen	 Puerta	 de	 Europa	 towers.	 The	 brick,	 glass,	 and	 asphalt	 of	 the	 once cosmopolitan	city	lay	at	Groth’s	feet	like	ornamental	trappings.	Troops	of	bulls,

gray	wolves,	lynxes,	and	brown	bears	scavenged	the	area.

“What	do	you	see?”	Groth	asked	The	Night	Eye.

“Danger,”	The	Night	Eye	replied.

“We	 have	 killed	 thousands,	 my	 generals,”	 Blood	 Scar,	 the	 brown	 bear

commander,	said.	“How	many	are	left	to	present	us	with	a	fight?”

“As	long	as	the	 rulku	have	as	much	as	a	spear	in	their	hands,	they	are	deadly,”

Groth	said.	“Send	in	the	wolves	and	wild	dogs,”	the	wolverine	lord	commanded.

“Tear	any	from	their	hiding	places.	We	will	make	Madrid	a	fitting	place	to	crown

the	 kings	 and	 queens	 of	 the	 new	 continent,	 The	 All-Seeing	 Night	 Eye.”	 The wolves	 and	 wild	 dogs	 went	 into	 the	 businesses,	 alleys,	 and	 homes	 of	 the	 great city.	They	tore	even	tiny	children	left	without	parents	into	the	streets.	Soon,	even the	 marching	 of	 rats	 pushed	 any	 remaining	 humans	 to	 the	 center	 of	 the	 streets, until	they	stood	surrounded	by	the	wolves	and	the	bears.

“We	accept	your	gift,”	the	crows	said	with	cackles.

The	All-Seeing	Night	Eye	became	a	flurry	of	activity,	diving	at	the	men,	the

women,	 even	 the	 tiniest	 of	 children,	 pecking	 and	 clawing	 at	 anything	 remotely human.	Soon,	they	were	a	great,	blinding	cloud	over	the	city,	until	the	streets	of Madrid	flooded	in	blood.	The	All-Seeing	Night	Eye	ascended	and	nodded	to	the

bulls	below.	They	charged,	stamping	whatever	could	not	escape,	until	every	last

cry	was	silenced.

Over	 the	 dead	 bodies,	 the	 ravens	 plucked	 hairs,	 even	 bones,	 assembling	 tiny crowns	that	they	placed	upon	their	elder	ravens	and	crows.

“Long	live	The	All-Seeing	Night	Eye,”	Groth	proclaimed.

“Long	 live	 our	 kings	 and	 queens,”	 Blood	 Scar	 and	 the	 wolves	 growled	 in unison.

“Thank	you,	faithful	servants	of	animal	kind,”	The	All-Seeing	Night	Eye	said.

“We	have	marched	on	the	last	of	the	great	European	capitals	and	killed	any	who

would	 oppose	 us.	 We	 have	 reclaimed	 this	 animal	 territory	 that	 the	 rulku	 called Europe	for	all	animals.	We	have	driven	the	 rulku	killer	Fvoris	back,	and	we	will hunt	 and	 kill	 him.	 Yet,	 every	 kingdom	 has	 its	 threats,	 and	 ours	 comes	 from across	the	oceans.	There	is	danger	unlike	any	the	animal	world	has	faced	in	these

years	 of	 vindication.	 Our	 spies	 on	 the	 southern	 continent,	 the	 one	 called Australia,	 know	 of	 a	 secret	 we	 shall	 lay	 bare	 to	 you,	 our	 most	 trusted	 soldiers, only.	 The	 rulku	 fight	 us	 to	 distract	 us.	 There	 is	 a	 rulku	 murderer	 who	 plans	 to allow	them	to	access	their	weapons	again.	We	must	kill	him	before	he	does.	Our

spies	in	the	Americas	tell	us	still	more.	Out	in	the	West,	by	the	great	ocean	King Blu	 reigns	 over,	 there	 is	 one	 who	 has	 The	 Fire.	 It	 is	 a	 burning	 crown	 of	 gold, white,	and	red	translucent	flame	that	gives	whoever	wears	it	power	to	rule	over

all	the	animal	kingdoms.	This	is	the	crown	we	seek	and	no	other.	This	you	must

bring	 to	 us	 before	 an	 animal	 unfit	 to	 rule	 the	 Earth	 takes	 possession	 of	 it.	 Are there	 any	 who	 can	 traverse	 the	 deserts	 of	 America	 who	 can	 find	 the	 keeper	 of The	Fire,	the	mythical	plant	goddess	Methuselah?”

The	animals	let	up	a	roar	until	there	was	a	shriek	that	pierced	them	all.

“Let	me	march	on	them.	Let	me	fight	them	until	their	blood	is	at	my	feet,”

Groth	said.	“I	shall	impale	every	last	 rulku	killer!”

“Faithful	 wolverine,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said.	 “You	 are	 mighty,	 but	 even	 you cannot	 swim	 in	 the	 great	 ocean	 between	 us	 and	 our	 quarry.	 For	 this,	 we	 have fashioned	 another.	 Forged	 by	 the	 hand	 of	 our	 once	 prisoner,	 The	 Mechanic,	 a master	of	 rulku	magic,	comes	Adar	Llwch	Gwin.”

The	 Night	 Eye	 ascended.	 Behind	 their	 cloud	 of	 wings	 and	 beaks,	 a	 creature stood	forth.

“This	is	a	journey	for	my	wings	and	a	fire	fit	for	my	eyes	alone,”	Adar	Llwch

Gwin,	a	giant,	 technologically	enhanced	eagle,	 said.	“For	this,	 you	created	 me, my	masters.”

Its	wingspan,	enhanced	by	nanotechnology,	took	up	the	entire	street,	creating

winds	with	the	slightest	of	movements.	Its	feet	resembled	those	of	a	lion,	and	it

had	reptilian	scales	about	its	sleek,	muscular	body,	like	a	Chinese	dragon	of	old.

The	 bears	 stood	 back.	 The	 wolves	 retreated	 to	 the	 shadows,	 their	 purple-red eyes	looking	out.	Even	Groth,	the	unyielding	wolverine,	kept	back.

“Fly,	 then,	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,”	 The	 All-Seeing	 Night	 Eye	 commanded.	 “Fly

over	the	waters	that	we	cannot	traverse.	Bring	us	The	Fire,	and	your	reward	will

be	 greater	 than	 you	 can	 imagine.	 But	 beware.	 King	 Blu	 has	 spies	 everywhere.

The	great	king	of	the	ocean	may	present	himself	as	an	isolationist,	but	he	would

gladly	 use	 The	 Fire	 to	 dominate	 us	 all.	 And	 not	 far	 behind	 him	 are	 the	 other



animal	lords,	Azaz	and	Thraxis,	who	would	gladly	hold	us	in	subjugation	should

they	learn	of	our	grand	prize.”

“And	you,”	The	Night	Eye	said	to	a	yellow-bellied	snake	that	slithered	forth.

“Use	your	nanoskin	and	swim	to	the	Australian	jungles.	Use	our	network	of	sea

snakes	and	fauna	to	find	the	maker	of	maladies,	the	 rulku	scientist	they	call	The Mechanic,	 and	 kill	 him	 before	 he	 kills	 us.	 We	 granted	 him	 his	 freedom	 in exchange	 for	 the	 fashioning	 of	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,	 but	 we	 did	 not	 grant	 him	 a long	life.	He’s	too	dangerous	to	live.”

The	snake	spy,	Vykra,	hissed	her	assent.

“And	 now,	 in	 celebration,	 let	 us	 create	 a	 mighty	 bonfire	 to	 honor	 our	 new kings	 and	 queens,”	 Groth	 ordered.	 “Let	 us	 feast	 on	 man	 flesh	 and	 impale	 the others,	as	a	sign	to	all	who	would	oppose	us!”

With	that,	the	wolves,	bears,	bulls,	and	lynxes	snarled	in	assent.

Victory	seemed	all	but	assured.

Still,	 The	 All-Seeing	 Night	 Eye	 ascended,	 watching,	 ever-vigilant,	 ever-

calculating.

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

Brigand	cradled	himself	in	his	habitat	cell.	The	once	great	general	cursed	about

how	 little	 animals	 with	 fur	 understood	 basic	 human	 needs	 for	 warmth	 and comfort.	The	night	sky	lorded	above	him—at	least	the	animals	had	created	their

internment	camp	with	a	clear	view	of	the	open	sky.	Brigand	saw	the	stars	pulsing

like	flint	set	afire.	Some	stars	were	so	distant	that	they	could	fall	from	The	Milky Way,	and	no	one	would	notice.	Brigand	wondered	if	that	was	Man’s	fate	as	well.

Would	 his	 species	 just	 fall	 away	 like	 every	 species	 before	 it?	 Would	 anyone notice?	Would	anyone	care?

Hunter	General	Wade	Brigand	was	once	more	than	a	commander,	more	than	a

warrior.	He	had	been	a	husband	and	a	father	before	the	end	of	times.

But	 his	 wife,	 Julie,	 would	 not	 stay	 with	 the	 man	 who	 lorded	 over	 the

crematoria	 night	 and	 day,	 and	 his	 daughter	 was	 too	 young	 to	 know	 any	 better.

Julie	left	with	Brigand’s	daughter,	never	to	be	heard	from	again.	Brigand	sought

endlessly	for	his	family	before	the	war	struck.	Yet,	all	he	could	tell	was	that	The Marching	 of	 the	 Pets	 consumed	 Julie,	 the	 man	 she	 married	 after	 him,	 and	 his daughter	 in	 one	 smoky,	 eternal	 night— retribution	 against	 the	 innocent	 for	 the

actions	of	the	guilty,	 Brigand	 thought.	 He	 had	 killed	 countless	 animal	 families.

Yet,	he	never 	 dreamed	they	had	the	power	to	rise	up	and	kill	his	own.

In	those	surreal	moments	between	wakefulness	and	dreams,	when	his	eyelids

closed	resoundingly,	only	to	quake	in	their	folds	of	skin	and	open	again,	Brigand

thought	he	saw	his	daughter’s	ghost.	He	called	out,	only	to	see	a	faint	blue	light on	the	horizon.	The	light	became	slightly	bigger,	slightly	more	luminous,	until	it became	 blinding.	 Brigand	 put	 his	 forearm	 over	 his	 eyes,	 covering	 up,	 when	 he heard	a	voice	not	entirely	unfamiliar.

“Rise,”	the	mystical	voice	said.	“You	have	much	work	to	do.”

Brigand	 studied	 the	 pulsating	 light.	 It	 was	 clearly	 a	 hologram.	 The

luminescent	figure	was	Fowler,	and	not	Fowler,	all	at	once.

“Hunter	Sergeant?”	Brigand	asked.	“What	the	hell	happened	to	you?	I	thought

you	were	dead,	like	so	many,”	Brigand	said,	thinking	of	his	former	family.	“At

this	point,	you	might	as	well	be.	We	lost	the	war	before	it	even	began.”	“Nothing

is	lost,”	Fowler	said.	“Even	the	head	that	wears	the	most	glorious	crown	one	day

falls	to	the	dust.”

“Where	are	you?”	Brigand	asked.	“Do	you	still	have	any	hunters?”

“My	time	is	short.	You	must	listen,”	Fowler	said,	still	glowing.	“I	am	far	from

you.	You	cannot	know	where.	But	I	will	be	with	you	soon.	Out	in	the	wild.”

“We	lost,	Fowler.	We	lost	everything,”	Brigand	said,	trying	not	to	break	down.

“We	ended	up	in	a	zoo.	Poetic	justice,	I	suppose,	for	underestimating	an	enemy

capable	of	all	the	sins	of	its	father,	and	still	more.”

“There	 is	 a	 land	 that	 the	 plants	 are	 protecting,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “You	 must	 lead any	survivors	there.	It	is	out,	away	from	Nunavut,	by	the	ocean.”

Brigand	thought	of	what	he	was	hearing.	He	wondered	if	there	was	a	burning

bush	somewhere,	but	there	was	no	Moses,	only	this	new	creature,	half-man,	half-

plant,	made	of	light.

“That’s	bear	country,	ruled	by	Azaz,”	Brigand	said.

“Azaz	campaigns	in	the	East,”	Fowler	said.	“He’s	spread	his	guards	thin	as	he

gains	new	conquests.”

Brigand	puzzled	over	Fowler’s	words.

“Why	would	plants	save	us?”	Brigand	asked.

“To	 protect	 something	 very	 dear,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “I	 can’t	 remain	 long.	 The animal’s	guards	will	detect	me.	Be	ready	to	leave	when	you	see	a	blue	pulse	take

to	 the	 sky	 tomorrow	 after	 midnight.	 It	 will	 disable	 the	 energy	 fields	 that	 hold you.	Run	as	quickly	as	you	can.	The	pulse	will	blind	the	animals.	But	only	for	an

hour.	In	that	time,	you	must	move	through	the	wilderness.	The	light	will	guide

you	to	your	new	home.	Do	you	understand?”

Fowler’s	ethereal	blue	radiance	flickered.	His	image	grew	more	transparent.



Brigand	nodded.

“You	may	be	mankind’s	last	hope	for	survival,”	Fowler	said.	“Fight	like	it.”

“Yes,	Hunter	Sergeant,”	Brigand	said.

As	Brigand	uttered	the	last	word,	Fowler	vanished.	Brigand	rolled	over	on	his

straw	bed.	He	was	torn.	This	message	could	very	well	be	a	trap.	Yet,	it	could	also be	his	only	chance.	The	animals	wouldn’t	keep	caged	humans	forever.	Even	zoos

of	 the	 forgotten,	 lost	 world	 retired	 some	 of	 their	 animals,	 eventually.	 But	 if	 a blinding	 light	 incapacitated	 the	 animals,	 Brigand	 and	 his	 hunters	 could	 kill	 the leaders	 of	 Animus	 and	 change	 the	 course	 of	 the	 war.	 Still,	 there	 would	 be	 so many	vicious	animals,	their	fangs	at	the	ready,	and	so	little	time.	Brigand	had	to think	 of	 saving	 his	 people.	 Their	 lives	 meant	 something	 more	 tangible	 than revenge	drawn	out	in	blood.

Yet—to	kill	White	Claw.	It	was	a	thought	a	man	could	fall	asleep	and	dream

of.





CHAPTER	18

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California,	USA

Fowler	kneeled,	taking	in	the	higher	communion	he	felt	with	the	nanotechnology

and	 with	 the	 nature	 that	 surrounded	 them.	 There	 was	 little	 separation	 of	 what was	once	called	nature	and	what	was	once	called	artificial.	Both	circled	him	in

the	 air,	 flower	 seeds	 and	 nanobots,	 and	 both	 had	 their	 resonant	 beauty.	 Yet, though	 Fowler	 had	 pushed	 for	 a	 higher	 communication	 with	 his	 nanobots	 than any	but	Nurvlyn	 had	achieved	before,	 there	was	something	 in	their	mechanical

hum	that	spoke	of	danger.

“Have	 you	 made	 contact	 with	 the	 humans	 inside	 the	 zoo?”	 Nurvlyn	 asked

Fowler,	kneeling	next	to	him.

“Yes.	With	my	old	commander.	“He	appears…changed.”

“Don’t	we	all?”	Nurvlyn	asked.

“But	what	is	this	change	in	the	skies?”	Fowler	asked	Nurvlyn,	who	kneeled	by

him,	the	plant-like	tresses	of	his	beard	spilling	over	his	robe	as	he	did	so.	“Why do	the	nanobots	flutter?	Why	does	the	air	turn	cold?”

“Methuselah	 has	 heard	 from	 her	 seven	 sisters,	 the	 plants	 of	 the	 world	 that tower	above	time,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“They	all	say	the	same:	the	animal	kings	and

queens	 of	 the	 world	 have	 discovered	 the	 sacred	 fire,	 and	 they	 search	 out	 its location	hungrily.”

“I	don’t	understand,”	Fowler	said.	“Don’t	they	wield	the	power	of	technology

already?”

“The	Mystical	Crown	of	Fire,”	Nurvlyn	said,	“is	a	term	that	survivors	of	The

Rapsys	gave	to	a	legend.	They	believed	that	the	creators	of	this	nanotechnology manufactured	 a	 device	 that	 would	 allow	 its	 operator	 to	 communicate	 with	 the nanotechnology	in	a	way	that	no	other	could.	It	would	give	one	command	of	the

animals.	The	animals	believe	that	mankind	had	this	power	but	lost	it,	and	that	is

why	they	lost	this	war.”

“But	this	is	a	virus,	part	technological,	part	organic,”	Fowler	said.	“How	could

this	be	so?”

“The	 nanobots	 were	 originally	 a	 way	 of	 weaponizing	 the	 animals,”	 Nurvlyn



replied.	“Originally,	mankind	sought	to	control	animal	soldiers	that	would	allow

one	nation	to	have	massive	new	armies	within	minutes.	I	was	experimented	on,

changed	to	what	I	am,	to	wear	this	crown,	as	they	call	the	headpiece.	Only	I	am	a

failed	experiment.	I	turned	away.	I	joined	the	animals.	I	saw	the	way	to	a	better

Earth.	And	so,	the	crown	rejected	me.	It	is	the	crown	that	chooses	its	master,	not the	 other	 way	 around.	 The	 crown	 will	 choose	 another.	 But	 we	 must	 protect	 it from	predators	until	it	does.”

“Why	not	wear	this	crown?	Why	not	end	this	war?”	Fowler	asked.

“It	is	not	for	mankind	to	wear,	or	it	will	defeat	the	balance	and	endanger	all	of

Earth	once	more,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“The	crown	will	emerge	when	the	time	is	right.

It	 will	 choose	 its	 master.	 Until	 then,	 Methuselah	 and	 the	 plants	 that	 protect	 her have	safely	hidden	it.”

“I’m	not	sure	I	understand,”	Fowler	said.

“You	 must	 before	 you	 go,”	 Nurvlyn	 replied.	 “You	 may	 never	 return	 here.

Understanding	 may	 help	 you	 protect	 what	 is	 left	 of	 mankind	 from	 extinction when	Azaz	strikes.	Before	you	go,	you	must	know	where	this	all	came	from,	so

that	you	may	know	where	it	is	all	going.”

Nurvlyn	rose,	conjuring	the	sands,	the	winds,	and	the	nanobots	into	a	massive

circle	 of	 smoke.	 Nurvlyn	 chanted	 and	 called	 until	 a	 fiery	 vision	 arose.	 Fowler joined	Nurvlyn	in	his	vision	quest	until	that	vision	became	his	own.

Sy-Kilas

Greenland

A	Vision	of	The	Prehistory

One	Generation	Ago

Little	 Kitsissut	 Animal	 Refuge	 was	 a	 world	 unto	 itself.	 South	 of	 Alanngorsuaq Fjord	 just	 outside	 of	 Cape	 Brill,	 it	 was	 Greenland’s	 only	 wildlife	 refuge	 and animal	experimentation	center.	During	the	summers,	when	he	was	avoiding	the

unceasing	 swarms	 of	 mosquitoes,	 Nathan	 Trola	 enjoyed	 watching	 the	 icebergs go	 by.	 He’d	 even	 sail	 up	 to	 a	 few	 smaller	 ones	 and	 mount	 them	 to	 watch	 the humpback	 whales	 breach	 or	 the	 sea	 eagles	 fly,	 their	 white-speckled	 brown plumage	 separating	 from	 the	 clouds	 as	 they	 descended	 for	 halibut,	 striking	 out past	 the	 icebergs,	 then	 joining	 with	 the	 clouds	 yet	 again.	 Isolated	 as	 he	 was, reachable	 only	 by	 plane,	 helicopter	 or	 ferry	 during	 the	 better	 weather,	 Nathan Trola	was	the	only	man	wintering	by	the	southern	edge	of	the	fjord	this	year.	The

nearest	human	was	a	sheep	farmer	off	of	Tasiusaq.	Little	Kitsissut,	as	this	island refuge	 was	 called,	 was	 isolated	 intentionally	 by	 the	 Danish	 government	 for	 the protection	of	nesting	animals.

Nathan’s	 job,	 and	 that	 of	 Wolfie,	 his	 plump,	 white	 wolf	 companion,	 was

simple,	if	time-consuming.	They	were	to	man	the	lighthouse	during	winter	and

chronicle	any	observable	animal	activity	when	the	two	weren’t	snowed	in.	This

could	 take	 hours	 upon	 hours,	 which	 was	 why	 Nathan	 seldom	 had	 a	 chance	 to keep	the	news	on	in	the	tiny	lighthouse,	when	he	was	able	to	get	the	Internet.	He

was	too	busy	chronicling	the	migratory	patterns	of	the	black-headed	Arctic	tern

on	 its	 travels	 of	 over	 seventy	 thousand	 kilometers	 a	 year.	 When	 he	 wasn’t checking	 on	 a	 wintering	 population	 of	 musk	 oxen,	 he	 was	 making	 the	 rounds, recording	whether	the	island’s	experimental	group	of	reindeer	had	enough	Arctic

char	to	survive	the	oncoming	nor’easter.

When	he	was	able	to	get	the	Internet	running	in	the	lighthouse,	Nathan	liked

to	keep	up	with	the	U.S.	news.	As	far	removed	as	he	was	from	the	States,	seeing

what	was	going	on	made	him	feel	closer	to	home.	After	all,	there	was	winter	in

the	rest	of	the	world	and	there	was	winter	in	Greenland.	It	was	not	unusual	for

Nathan	to	see	one	nor’easter	drop	twenty	feet	of	snow	and	then	have	another	two

feet	come	over	the	next	week.	Snow	and	below	freezing	temperatures	were	part

of	his	life,	sometimes	even	into	May,	and	Nathan	would	have	it	no	other	way.	In

truth,	 Nathan	 was	 even	 a	 bit	 disappointed,	 as	 Greenland’s	 weather	 hadn’t	 been all	 that	 bad.	 In	 summer,	 ice	 sheets	 melted—and	 fast.	 And	 since	 he	 left	 college and	started	work	on	Little	Kitsissut,	the	weather	had	been	eccentric.	It	had	been

autumn-like	 in	 the	 early	 winter,	 though	 still	 cold,	 but	 frigid	 in	 the	 later	 winter, throwing	 off	 the	 migratory	 patterns	 of	 deer	 and	 any	 number	 of	 avian	 species.

Nathan	 had	 noticed	 animals	 acting	 a	 little	 peculiar—staying	 longer	 in	 some locales,	developing	less	of	a	fear	of	humans—but	he	always	thought	it	was	due

to	climate	change	and	the	ever-pressing	demands	of	survival.

Nathan	 gave	 the	 matter	 no	 further	 thought	 until	 one	 evening	 in	 late	 January, when	he	sat	cooped	up	in	his	metallic	white	and	yellow	lighthouse.	He	managed

to	 jerry	 rig	 the	 Internet	 and	 pick	 up	 on	 a	 news	 site	 down	 near	 Kennebunkport, Maine,	 where	 his	 parents	 had	 a	 vacation	 home.	 He	 clicked	 on	 an	 animal	 story.

Nathan	always	loved	animal	stories.	The	video	came	up	immediately.	There	was

light	snow	dancing	before	the	camera	lens	like	a	gathering	of	white	moths	in	the

early	spring.	And	then	the	TV	camera	unveiled	another,	darker	image:	a	boy	in	a

yellow,	insulated	coat	standing,	half-absorbed	by	shadow,	at	the	edge	of	a	street.

“Stomper—come	on	in,	Stomper,”	the	pale	boy	called	from	a	street	right	by	a

house	in	the	rear	of	the	camera’s	angle.

Suddenly,	 there	 were	 the	 yellow	 eyes	 of	 a	 tan-gray	 coyote.	 It	 yipped	 and

yammered	the	way	the	little	dogs	do,	and	the	boy	was	facing	at	least	five	or	six in	 the	 shot.	 Next	 to	 them	 was	 the	 heavily	 respiring	 body	 of	 a	 chocolate	 lab, whimpering	as	it	bled	its	life	into	the	snow.	Nathan	found	the	image	disturbing,

particularly	how	close	the	coyotes	were	to	the	boy.	The	way	they	sunk	in	their

legs,	 bared	 their	 fangs,	 and	 arched	 their	 backs	 spoke	 of	 aggression.	 The	 boy backed	 up	 slowly,	 about	 to	 run	 inside	 the	 house,	 when	 a	 Northern	 goshawk descended,	diving	right	at	the	child.	The	child	stumbled,	only	to	see	a	few	black

squirrels	at	his	feet.	The	squirrels	jumped	every	which	way,	running	and	darting

as	manic	squirrels	do,	until	the	boy	tripped,	and	the	coyotes	attacked.	The	video

faded	to	black	as	the	television	announcer	said	that	the	child	did	not	survive	the attack.	Nor	did	his	dog.

Nathan	 shot	 a	 glance	 at	 Wolfie.	 Wolfie	 just	 barked	 for	 some	 more	 Science Diet,	which	Nathan	had	brought	up	from	the	States,	especially	for	him.	Nathan

filled	his	dish	mechanically.	He	shook	his	head	and	fixed	some	 muktuk	 with	soy sauce	to	bring	back	to	the	computer.	He	loved	animals	like	Wolfie,	but	he	was	a

firm	believer	in	controlling	coyote	populations.

Nathan	 clicked	 on	 a	 related	 link	 only	 to	 see	 another	 story	 out	 in	 British Columbia,	 this	 one	 straight	 out	 of	 Alfred	 Hitchcock’s	 The	 Birds. 	 A	 majestic golden	 eagle,	 its	 curling	 orange	 talons	 the	 size	 of	 a	 small	 toddler’s	 hand, swooped	 down	 and	 picked	 up	 a	 baby	 right	 from	 a	 baby	 carriage.	 The	 mother fought	 back,	 beating	 the	 large	 brown	 bird	 with	 her	 balled-up	 white	 fists,	 but	 a flock	 of	 nearly	 ten	 golden	 eagles	 descended,	 scratching	 and	 clawing	 her	 face until	she	curled	in	a	ball	to	save	her	own	life.	The	baby	was	later	found	clawed

to	death,	dropped	against	the	stone	steps	of	an	adjacent	house.

Nathan	 gasped.	 He’d	 seen	 images	 of	 coyotes	 attacking	 humans,	 typically

when	their	young	were	near,	but	he’d	never	heard	of	a	flock	of	more	than	four	or

five	golden	eagles,	let	alone	eleven,	coordinating	like	these	gigantic	birds	did.	It sounded	 crazy	 to	 Nathan—purely	 unconscionable—that	 such	 diverse	 birds	 and

mammals	could	coordinate	 an	attack.	It	 was	preposterous	to	 anyone	who	knew

even	 the	 least	 of	 the	 tendencies	 of	 animal	 behavior,	 whether	 it	 be	 the	 fauna	 of Greenland,	 Canada,	 or	 the	 States.	 Yet,	 attack	 they	 did—children	 first—which made	the	matter	especially	urgent.

Nathan	kept	watching	until	he	heard	a	voice	over	the	radio	transmitter.

“Nathan,	are	you	there?”	a	bodiless	voice	asked.

Nathan	picked	up	the	receiver.	“Little	Kitsissut	Lighthouse,”	he	answered.	“Is

anyone	 out	 there?	 Nor’easter	 conditions	 are	 likely	 in	 the	 next	 ten	 hours.	 I recommend	anchoring	immediately.”

“It’s	only	me,	Nathan.	Have	you	seen	the	news?”	the	voice	asked.

It	 was	 Edmund,	 Nathan’s	 old	 college	 roommate	 and	 fellow	 researcher.	 He’d

gone	 back	 to	 the	 mainland	 to	 prepare	 to	 head	 out	 and	 study	 polar	 bears encroaching	on	northern	Inuit	town	dumps	in	the	winter,	leaving	Nathan	to	man

the	refuge	with	his	girlfriend,	Dana,	due	to	arrive	tomorrow.

“I	 saw	 news	 bytes	 of	 isolated	 animal	 attacks	 by	 a	 few	 groups	 of	 threatened animals,”	Nathan	said.	“Are	you	okay?”

“The	 polar	 bears	 are	 still	 hunting	 any	 breaks	 in	 the	 ice	 for	 seals,”	 Edmund said.	 “So	 far,	 this	 celebration	 of	 bears	 hasn’t	 turned	 its	 attention	 to	 us.	 But	 the Inuit	 we’ve	 spoken	 to	 are	 reporting	 increasingly	 aggressive	 encroachments	 by starving	bears,	Nathan,	and	we’re	not	just	talking	about	a	few	attacks.”

“How	many?”	Nathan	asked.

“At	 least	 ten	 polar	 bear	 attacks	 and	 seven	 wild	 dog	 attacks	 in	 western Greenland,	 and	 a	 dozen	 reported	 in	 Canada	 and	 the	 States.	 First,	 it	 was	 non-hibernating	 black	 bears	 and	 moose	 in	 Alaska,	 Yukon,	 and	 British	 Columbia.

Then	 coy	 dogs,	 coyotes,	 and	 even	 condors	 in	 California.	 Eagles,	 hawks,	 and owls	 in	 Oregon	 and	 Washington	 state.	 The	 worst	 case	 was	 a	 series	 of	 alligator attacks	 in	 Florida.	 All	 on	 children	 eight	 or	 younger.	 My	 Danish	 friend	 said there’s	been	a	few	Daubenton’s	bat	attacks	in	his	homeland	too.”

Nathan	scoffed.	“Listen	to	yourself,”	he	said.	“That	makes	no	sense.	These	are

separate	 species	 with	 instincts	 that	 go	 back	 millions	 of	 years.	 Why	 would competing	predators	come	together	in	the	middle	of	winter	and	attack	children?

We’re	 assuming	 a	 connection	 between	 pockets	 of	 predators	 that	 just	 doesn’t exist.”

“Each	 of	 the	 areas	 showed	 a	 paucity	 of	 food	 in	 the	 surrounding	 wild,”

Edmund	 said.	 “But	 the	 animals	 aren’t	 all	 eating	 the	 children.	 That’s	 why	 I’m afraid	it	may	be	something	worse,	much	worse.”

“What?	That	they’re	just	thrill	killing?	Coyotes	have	been	known	to	do	that.”

“No.	Nathan,	have	they	told	you	why	you’re	on	an	island	that	isn’t	on	any	of	the

maps	of	Greenland?”

Nathan	said	nothing	for	a	moment,	before	gulping	and	saying,	“No.”

“You	don’t	find	that	odd	in	any	way?”

“Everything	about	Greenland	is	odd,	especially	the	islands	in	the	Wandel	Sea

that	break	the	surface	part	of	the	year	only	to	fall	under	the	sea	again.	That’s	why I	love	it.	It’s	as	strange	and	magical	as	the	Northern	Lights.	Besides,	somebody

has	to	man	the	lighthouse	and	record	animal	activity	in	the	area.”

“The	animals	you’re	observing.	Are	they	acting	any	differently?”

“No.	Wolfie’s	a	bit	piggish,	but	then	he	always	is	during	nor’easters	when	he

gets	less	time	outside.”

“I’m	worried	about	you,”	Edmund	said	to	Nathan.	“You’re	in	an	isolated	area

with	 an	 intense	 demand	 on	 predators	 during	 a	 coming	 nor’easter.	 Be	 careful.



Stay	locked	inside	until	we	can	reach	you.”

“I	have	over	thirty	different	species	of	animals	to	keep	track	of,”	Nathan	said.

“The	animals	can	look	out	for	themselves,”	Edmund	said.

“But—”

“—Listen,	Nathan.	The	animals	they	experimented	on	in	reserves	like	yours,

up	and	down	the	fjords.	They	did	something.	I	don’t	know	exactly	what,	but	I’m

convinced	it’s	changed	animal	behavior.”

“In	alligators	in	Florida?	Come	on,	Edmund.”

“I’m	telling	you,	there’s	a	connection.	Try	to	find	any	data	you	can	by	the	time

I	arrive.	We	should	be	there	once	the	storm	breaks.	Listen,	I	have	to	go.”

“To	study	polar	bears	at	a	time	like	this?”

“We’re	closing	our	camp	down.	I	have	to	get	ready	to	fly	out.”

“To	where?”

“To	Nuuk.	We’ll	keep	to	the	city	until	it’s	safe	to	get	you.”

“But	what	of	my	work?	I	have	to	stay.”

“Nathan…”

“Yes?”

“…Promise	 me	 you’ll	 be	 careful.	 This	 may	 be	 the	 beginning	 of	 the	 largest evolutionary	leap	since	 homo	sapiens	emerged	from	 homo	erectus. 	But	it’s	also the	most	dangerous.	Pack	your	things	and	stay	close	to	the	radio.”

“If	you	insist.”

“I	 do.	 More	 importantly,	 so	 does	 your	 boss.	 She	 called.	 She’s	 still	 coming tomorrow.”

“Dana?	She	should	stay	where	it’s	safe.”

“She	insisted.”

Nathan	hung	up	the	receiver.	All	around	him,	he	could	hear	the	animals	of	the

night.	 Wolf	 howls—to	 which	 Wolfie,	 like	 something	 straight	 out	 of	 a	 Jack London	 novel,	 responded.	 Shrill	 Arctic	 fox	 cries.	 And	 a	 few	 bird	 cries	 Nathan didn’t	 even	 recognize,	 lost	 among	 the	 roar	 of	 the	 wind-ravaged	 sea.	 Nathan decided	 to	 lock	 and	 secure	 the	 door,	 shaking	 his	 head	 at	 himself	 as	 he	 did	 so.

Then	 he	 put	 on	 his	 thermal	 underwear.	 He	 watched	 Wolfie	 circle	 around	 three times	before	Wolfie	laid	down	in	his	dog	bed.	Then	Nathan	climbed	into	his	own

bed.

Wolfie	had	the	right	idea.	It	was	time	to	sleep.

The	next	morning,	Nathan	broke	his	promise	first	thing.	He	hiked	in	snowshoes

through	 the	 plummeting	 precipitation	 to	 the	 different	 corners	 of	 the	 refuge,

tallying	the	wintering	species—including	a	few	roseate	terns	that	didn’t	belong this	 far	 north	 and	 hadn’t	 left	 since	 nesting	 last	 summer—to	 update	 the	 official log.	 Nothing	 else	 struck	 him	 as	 extraordinary.	 Nathan	 told	 himself	 that	 a	 few lemmings	 stared	 at	 him	 for	 an	 unusually	 long	 time.	 Still,	 there	 were	 no	 other footprints	 in	 the	 snow	 to	 show	 that	 any	 creature	 was	 tracking	 him	 or

contemplating	making	him	its	next	meal.	The	animals	were	as	they	had	always

been—on	the	same	evolutionary	rung	they	were	on	thousands	of	years	ago.

After	Wolfie	took	care	of	his	business,	the	two	headed	back	to	the	light-house.

Nathan	 had	 to	 shovel	 his	 way	 back	 up	 the	 stairs,	 as	 he	 had	 to	 tunnel	 his	 way pretty	 much	 everywhere	 in	 Greenland.	 Wolfie	 followed	 patiently,	 step	 by	 step.

Once	 they	 were	 inside,	 Nathan	 said,	 “Edmund	 had	 the	 right	 idea.	 This	 weather means	business.	We	should	stay	inside,	Wolfie.”

Wolfie	 barked.	 Nathan	 helped	 Wolfie	 rid	 himself	 of	 the	 snow	 that	 collected along	the	tufts	of	his	gray-white	fur.

Once	 Wolfie	 settled	 in,	 Nathan	 checked	 the	 radio.	 There	 were	 no	 calls.	 Of course,	there	never	were	in	weather	like	this.	Nathan	made	himself	some	 saussat and	some	Greenlandic	coffee,	making	sure	that	he	set	the	coffee	on	fire,	as	was

the	custom,	to	get	the	taste	just	right.	As	he	ate	and	drank,	Nathan	thought	over

what	Edmund	had	said,	fearfully,	last	night:	“They	did	something. ”	Edmund	had graduated	 a	 year	 earlier	 and	 was	 the	 reason	 Nathan	 got	 this	 job.	 In	 fact,	 it	 was Edmund	 who	 introduced	 Nathan	 to	 his	 boss	 and	 girlfriend,	 Dana,	 in	 the	 first place.	 As	 crazy	 as	 Edmund	 sounded,	 no	 doubt	 infected	 by	 the	 media-ignited hysteria	that	swept	the	news,	Edmund	knew	a	lot	more	about	Little	Kitsissut	than

Nathan	did.	Nathan	couldn’t	dismiss	Edmund’s	warnings	without	checking—that

would	be	poor	science.

So,	Nathan	searched	over	the	computer	files,	only	to	find	most	encrypted	and

classified	 as	 one	 might	 expect	 working	 at	 a	 government	 installation.	 The	 other manuals,	 written	 in	 Danish,	 a	 language	 Nathan	 barely	 understood,	 were	 hardly more	 promising.	 There	 were	 references	 to	 earlier	 experiments	 on	 mice	 and similar	microfauna.	The	goal	of	the	research,	apparently,	was	to	equip	animals	to

adapt	to	climate	change.	The	ultimate	purpose	for	Greenland,	of	course,	was	to

genetically	alter	the	polar	bear	before	it	became	a	dying	breed	by	century’s	end.

But	 it	 was	 the	 actual	 means	 of	 experimentation	 that	 con-cerned	 Nathan.

Nanotechnology.	These	reindeer	and	musk	oxen	were	part	of	a	coordinated	study

introducing	micro-machines	into	the	bloodstream.	These	machines,	subatomic	in

size,	had	the	ability	to	alter	chemical	reactions	at	the	cellular	level.	This	would allow	scientists	to	initiate	evolutionary	changes	in	a	few	generations	that,	even	in saltation	models,	would	take	thousands	of	years.

Nathan	closed	the	journals	and	packed	them.	As	he	did	so,	he	thought:	Such

technology	could	do	wonders.	If	mankind	could	send	if	messages	at	a	cellular	or even	 molecular	 level,	 cancer	 cells	 could	 be	 destroyed.	 Plant	 cells,	 as	 different from	ours	as	they	might	be,	could	adapt	to	clean	themselves	up	from	pollutants.

Perhaps	a	whole	new	species	of	plant	might	actually	feed	off	of	pollution	itself.

The	 applications	 truly	 were	 endless.	 But	 the	 question	 remained:	 What	 did	 this have	to	do	with	aggression	in	animals?	Nathan	was	a	fan	of	science-gone-wrong

crackpot	theories,	but	the	scientific	data	that	he	saw	looked	solid	enough.	There

was	 no	 way	 the	 experimentation	 would	 do	 anything	 other	 than	 enable	 survival or,	in	a	worst-case	scenario,	kill	the	animal.

Nathan	 pondered	 the	 matter	 over	 more	 when	 the	 radio	 lit	 up	 again.	 Nathan picked	 up	 the	 receiver.	 “Little	 Kitsissut	 Lighthouse,”	 Nathan	 replied.	 “We’re tracking	a	nor-easter	that	will	continue	until	tomorrow	morning.”

“Plane	down	in	the	ocean,”	a	faint	female	voice	said.	“One	occupant.	I’m	on	a

lifeboat	just	off	of	Alanngorsuaq	Fjord.	I	need	assistance	immediately.	Weather

severe.	Under	attack.”

“This	 isNathan	 Trola	 of	 Little	 Kitsissut	 Lighthouse.	 Can	 you	 see	 the

lighthouse?”

“Yes,	 Nathan.	 This	 is	 Dana.	 I	 can	 see	 you.	 Faintly.	 The	 lighthouse	 must	 be over	fifty	yards	away.	Can’t	move.	The	killer	whales	will	see	me.”

“Do	you	have	a	flare	you	can	set	off?”

“Yes.	 But	 I	 don’t	 want	 to	 call	 attention	 to	 myself.	 The	 whales	 are	 trying	 to overturn	the	boat.”

Nathan	found	the	matter	odd.	That	killer	whales	were	an	apex	predator	and	a

danger	 to	 seals,	 dugongs,	 and	 even	 the	 occasional	 shark	 was	 no	 surprise.	 That they	 had	 infiltrated	 warming	 waters	 off	 Greenland	 previously	 reserved	 for humpbacks	 and	 belugas	 was	 also	 well-documented.	 But	 for	 a	 pod	 of	 killer whales	 to	 be	 out	 hunting	 a	 human	 in	 the	 middle	 of	 nor’easter	 seemed	 absurd.

Nathan	believed	that	the	pod	might	have	mistaken	the	lifeboat	for	an	unusually

fat	walrus,	but	frankly,	killer	whales	were	too	smart	for	that.	He	was	worried.

“Hold	 steady	 at	 your	 current	 position,”	 Nathan	 said.	 “I’ll	 alert	 the	 Coast Guard.”

Nathan	tried	to	do	the	sensible	thing,	but	there	was	no	response.	Nathan	tried

radioing	again.	Greenland	may	not	have	had	a	military	presence	of	its	own,	but	it

had	an	armed	coast	guard	that	had	operated	search	and	rescue	missions	in	even

more	 precarious	 circumstances	 than	 these.	 Yet,	 today,	 there	 was	 radio	 silence.

Nathan	asked	himself:	maybe	the	animals	had	gotten	to	them	too?

“Dana.	 I	 can’t	 get	 the	 Coast	 Guard,”	 Nathan	 said.	 “Hold	 tight.	 You’re	 close.

I’ll	come	out	to	you.”

“Nathan,	no!”

“Don’t	do	anything.	I’m	coming	to	get	you.	Nathan	out.”

Nathan	left	the	radio	and	bundled	up	in	his	gear.	He	got	snowshoes,	a	buoy,	a

lantern,	a	gun,	a	flashlight,	and—of	course—Wolfie.	Wolfie	immediately	picked

up	on	the	change	in	his	master’s	emotional	state	and	sensed	that	something	was

up.	 He	 even	 nuzzled	 the	 oars	 to	 make	 sure	 Nathan	 remembered	 to	 grab	 them.

Once	Nathan	did,	Wolfie	went	to	the	lighthouse	door	and	barked.	Nathan	opened

the	 door	 and	 out	 Wolfie	 went,	 dragging	 a	 small	 shovel	 out	 with	 his	 teeth	 and leaving	it	by	the	steps.

Once	Nathan	and	Wolfie	were	down	by	the	steps,	Nathan	took	the	shovel	with

him.	They	had	to	wade	through	the	snow	to	the	banks	by	the	shore.	Wolfie	was	a

master	 at	 this,	 weaving	 up	 and	 down	 through	 the	 snow	 like	 a	 bottlenose	 whale riding	the	crests	of	the	Labrador	Sea.	Nathan	used	his	snowshoes	to	follow	at	a

distance.	 Wolfie	 made	 it	 by	 the	 old,	 rickety	 fishing	 boat	 first.	 Nathan	 followed with	 the	 shovel,	 shoveling	 out	 what	 he	 could	 off	 the	 boat	 before	 taking	 off	 the docking	ropes	and	 putting	his	equipment	 inside.	Wolfie	hopped	 in,	keeping	the

buoy	 in	 his	 teeth.	 Nathan	 lit	 a	 lantern.	 He	 placed	 it	 by	 him	 as	 he	 took	 the	 oars and	set	out.

The	 snow	 was	 a	 consuming	 white	 wind	 unto	 itself	 and	 naturally	 impaired

visibility.	Other	than	stirring	gales	and	some	larger	waves,	the	nor’easter	hadn’t done	 as	 much	 damage	 to	 the	 fjord	 waters	 as	 Nathan	 thought.	 Still,	 while	 he signaled	 with	 his	 flashlight,	 Nathan	 received	 no	 reply.	 At	 any	 moment,	 Dana might’ve	gone	under.	Nathan	put	his	flashlight	to	the	waves.	He	caught	sight	of

the	tail	of	one	of	the	killer	whales	as	it	went	peacefully	by.	Nathan	heard	Dana

screaming	before	he	actually	saw	her	lifeboat.

Nathan	heard	the	whales	breaking,	pushing	up	and	down	against	the	life-boat.

He	had	never	seen	anything	like	it.	He	took	his	gun	and	fired	a	few	shots	into	the air.	 Of	 course,	 such	 a	 stupid	 gesture	 did	 nothing	 to	 mar	 the	 whales’

concentration.

“Nathan—quick,”	Dana	screamed.

Dana	had	a	jacket	and	gear,	but	from	her	shaking	body,	it	was	clear	she	was

hysterical,	as	anyone	would	be.

Nathan	 swooped	 in	 by	 the	 lifeboat	 and	 pulled	 Dana	 over	 to	 his	 tiny	 fishing boat.

A	killer	whale’s	bulbous	head	surfaced	to	see	what	was	happening.

Wolfie	 dropped	 the	 buoy	 and	 barked.	 Nathan	 rowed	 Dana	 back	 to	 shore.	 He smiled	 when	 he	 realized	 the	 waters	 were	 getting	 too	 shallow	 for	 whales.	 Just then,	 one	 whale,	 in	 a	 last-ditch	 effort,	 butted	 up	 underneath	 Nathan’s	 fishing boat.	Nathan	felt	the	jolt	but	continued,	using	the	strong	nor’easter	winds	to	his advantage.	 In	 a	 few	 more	 moments	 that	 felt	 like	 hours,	 they	 were	 on	 shore.



Nathan	tied	the	boat	to	the	docks	and	got	out,	carrying	Dana	to	the	rocky	beach.

He	left	most	of	the	gear	in	the	boat	but	took	back	his	shovel	and	his	gun.

“Just	get	me	inside,”	was	all	that	Dana	muttered.

“Can	you	walk?”	Nathan	asked.

“I	can	try.”

Wolfie	 ran	 up	 the	 cliff,	 bobbing	 up	 and	 down	 in	 the	 snow	 ahead	 of	 them.

Nathan	 and	 Dana	 followed	 the	 carnival	 of	 Aurora	 Borealis	 lights	 towards	 the lighthouse.	 Dana’s	 boots	 were	 hardly	 a	 match	 for	 the	 snow,	 but	 Nathan	 guided her	gently	on,	shoveling	every	now	and	again	as	needed.	When	they	made	it	to

the	top	of	the	rocky	crag	near	the	lighthouse,	Nathan	heard	growling.	He	looked

up.	There,	arching	his	furry	body	down,	with	fangs	exposed,	was	Wolfie,	barking

like	mad.

“Wolfie,”	Nathan	said.	“That’s	enough!”

Dana	tugged	at	Nathan’s	coat,	shaking	her	head.	“It’s	no	use,”	she	said.	“He’s

infected.”

“Infected?”

Dana	 made	 a	 few	 aggressive	 shooing	 gestures	 at	 Wolfie,	 but	 Wolfie	 would have	 none	 of	 it.	 He	 arched	 his	 head	 and	 howled,	 as	 if	 alerting	 others.	 He	 then crouched	again,	bared	his	fangs,	growled,	and	readied	himself	for	the	attack.

“Take	out	your	gun,”	Dana	said.

“What?	No,”	Nathan	replied.	“I	love	that	dog!”

“He’s	not	 your	dog	anymore.	Just	fire	around	him.	You	don’t	have	to	kill	him

—yet.”

Nathan	took	out	his	gun.	He	fired	a	shot	into	the	air.

“No—around	him,”	Dana	argued.	“Quickly.”

Nathan’s	arm	shook,	but	he	took	the	gun	and	shot	it	just	shy	of	where	Wolfie

was.

Wolfie	stopped	growling.	His	eyes	met	Nathan’s.	For	a	moment,	it	was	like	he

was	 a	 confused	 dog	 hurt	 by	 his	 master’s	 cruelty.	 Then,	 he	 looked	 at	 Dana	 and bared	his	fangs,	barked,	and	ran	off	into	the	snow.

“Quickly,”	Dana	said.	“Get	inside.	He’ll	be	back.	With	others.”

“What	others?	It’s	desolate	tundra.”	“Wolves,	or	whatever	else	he	can	muster.”

Nathan	shoveled	the	steps	to	the	lighthouse	as	quickly	as	he	could.	He	brought

Dana	up	one	step	at	a	time.	He	opened	the	door	and	let	her	in.	As	he	headed	in,

he	looked	out	towards	the	great	white	expanse.	There,	in	the	middle	of	it	all,	was Wolfie,	bobbing	up	and	down	like	Buck	answering	the	call	of	the	wild.

Nathan	looked	over	at	Dana.	Her	hair	was	as	wet	and	black	as	his,	and	her	eyes as	cold	and	blue.	Nathan	knew,	as	she	sat	shivering	after	a	hot	shower,	sipping

her	 Greenlandic	 coffee	 in	 a	 Bordeaux	 glass,	 that	 whatever	 it	 was	 Edmund	 was searching	for,	Dana	knew.

Without	 looking	 up	 from	 her	 coffee,	 Dana	 asked:	 “You	 want	 me	 to	 explain, don’t	you?”

“My	dog	is	dying	out	there	right	now.	I’d	like	to	know	why.”

“I	 wish	 I	 could	 explain,	 but	 I	 only	 know	 bits	 and	 pieces.	 So	 does	 everyone else.”

Dana	sipped	her	coffee	again.

“Is	there	nothing	you	can	tell	me?”	Nathan	asked.

Dana	 looked	 out	 the	 lighthouse	 window	 at	 the	 immensity	 of	 Greenland—its

crags,	 fjords,	 snows,	 and	 fauna.	 “I	 can	 tell	 you	 that	 you’ll	 never	 get	 that	 dog back	again,”	Dana	said.

“How	can	you	be	so	cold	about	Wolfie?	You	gave	him	to	me	as	a	pup.”

“And	I	loved	Wolfie	too,	back	when	I	was	an	animal	lover.”

Dana’s	voice	sounded	just	as	cold	and	bitter	as	her	coffee	was	getting.

“Edmund	told	me	to	gather	the	journals.	I	read	them,”	Nathan	said.

“They	make	for	lovely	reading,	don’t	they?”	Dana	asked.	“All	about	making

the	world	a	better	place.	If	only	that	was	the	way	the	Danish	military	thought.”

“Then	tell	me	the	truth.”

“The	truth?	Not	even	I	know	it	all,”	Dana	said.	“What	I	understand	is	that	the

nanotechnology	they	used	on	the	animals	was	a	tremendous	success.	It	worked

just	fine.	It	wasn’t	the	animals	that	reacted	poorly	to	the	experiments.	It	was	the humans.”

“What?”	Nathan	asked	incredulously.

Dana	 sighed.	 She	 said,	 “Let’s	 just	 say	 that	 they	 moved	 on	 from	 blood-based nanotechnology	experimentation	to	a	more	airborne	model.	The	sweeping	winds

of	 the	 tundra	 took	 the	 miniature	 machines	 beyond	 the	 island,	 and	 the

nanotechnology	 proved	 more	 resilient	 than	 expected.	 It	 infected	 whole	 new populations	 of	 animals.	 And	 the	 new	 strain,	 the	 one	 the	 Danish	 military	 over-saw,	that	made	the	animals	more	aggressive	to	any	threat.	It	was	brilliant,	really.

Get	terrorists	by	using	their	own	animal	populations	against	them.”

“I	still	don’t	understand,”	Nathan	said.	“You	said	the	humans	reacted	poorly	to

the	experiments.	Were	humans	in	the	trials,	too?”

Dana	looked	directly	into	Nathan’s	eyes.	“Only	a	select	few,”	she	said.	“And

of	those,	only	one	survived.”

Nathan	backed	up.	“Me?”	he	asked.	“You’re	not	serious?”

“I	am.	Your	blood	was	a	one-in-a-million	match.”

“But	when—how?”

Dana	 looked	 down.	 She	 breathed	 deeply	 and	 then	 said:	 “Edmund	 recruited

you.	 And	 you	 were	 a	 success.	 That’s	 why	 the	 animals	 didn’t	 attack	 you.	 They attacked	 me.	 You	 see,	 the	 nanotechnology	 was	 meant	 to	 make	 the	 animals

soldiers,	 but	 its	 original	 purpose	 remained.	 Survival,	 adaptability	 to	 changing environments.	 An	 outstanding	 quality	 for	 a	 soldier,	 right?	 Also,	 a	 great evolutionary	trait	for	survival	on	the	ultimate	scale.	Or	so	the	scientists	thought.

But	 ask	 yourself:	 who	 is	 it	 that’s	 destroying	 the	 environment?	 Who	 is	 it	 that’s decimating	 animal	 habitats	 in	 record	 numbers?	 Rendering	 species	 extinct?

Mankind,	 of	 course.	 The	 ultimate	 enemy	 of	 nature.	 Just	 wait	 until	 the

nanotechnology	 adapts	 to	 plant	 life.	 Then	 we’ll	 have	 a	 whole	 new	 order	 of enemy.”

“My	God,”	Nathan	said.	“That’s	crazy.”

“What	started	here,”	Dana	said.	“It’s	only	going	to	spread.	Predators	will	eat

other	predators	and	get	infected.	The	air	will	fill	with	nanotechnology,	infecting insects.	Pets	will	turn	against	masters,	just	like	Wolfie	did.	And	humans	like	me, exposed	to	infected	animals,	will	set	other	animals	off.”

“An	animal	apocalypse,”	Nathan	said,	shaking	his	head	at	the	absurdity	of	the

notion.

“Not	if	we’re	lucky,”	Dana	said.	“So	far,	the	animals	have	only	attacked	areas

where	they’re	threatened.	All	of	those	kids	who	were	attacked	were	living	at	the

edge	of	forests	and	woods—at	the	edge	of	some	wild	habitat.	They	were	small,

helpless,	 vulnerable—the	 perfect	 size	 to	 send	 a	 message	 to	 the	 world	 of mankind:	 back	 off.	 I	 don’t	 think	 the	 animals	 will	 attack	 us	 if	 we	 get	 off	 their lands	and	leave	them	alone.”

“Can	you	really	be	so	confident	after	what	we	just	saw?”

Dana	shook	her	head.	Drops	of	water	fell	to	the	stone	floor.

“Maybe	 not,”	 she	 said.	 “But	 think	 of	 it	 this	 way.	 These	 are	 not	 mindless zombie	 attacks.	 These	 are	 genetically	 calculated	 strikes.	 So	 long	 as	 we	 respect their	environment	and	leave	the	food	chain	intact,	the	animals	have	no	reason	to

attack	 our	 cities.	 It’s	 an	 unwarranted	 risk,	 unnecessary	 for	 survival	 on	 the grandest	scale.”

As	Dana	spoke,	Nathan	heard	scratching	at	the	door.	His	eyes	softened	for	just

a	moment.

“Don’t	even	think	of	it,”	Dana	said,	finishing	her	coffee.

“But	you	said	they	won’t	attack	me.	I	can	find	a	room	for	Wolfie	and	lock	him

in	until	we	can	treat	him.”

“There	is	no	cure.”

“What?”

“This	was	meant	to	be	an	experimental	stage	only.”

“But	Wolfie!”

“White	wolves	can	live	and	adapt	to	the	cold,	Nathan.	Wolfie	will	be	fine.	Just

look	at	the	new	friends	he’s	brought.”

Nathan	 glimpsed	 outside	 and	 saw	 a	 whole	 pack	 of	 wolves,	 several	 Arctic

foxes,	 and	 even	 a	 polar	 bear	 in	 the	 midst.	 They	 all	 circled	 the	 lighthouse, clawing	away	at	its	cobblestone	walk.

“There	 will	 be	 more	 tomorrow,	 after	 the	 storm	 clears	 out.	 I’m	 sorry	 I	 came, Nathan.	I	just	needed	to	get	to	you	before	Edmund	does.”

“Why?	It’s	just	Edmund.”

“Just	Edmund,	huh?	He’s	an	agent	of	the	Danish	government.	He’s	assigned	to

break	you	into	what’s	really	happening	slowly,	to	earn	your	trust.	But	trust	me:

he	won’t	be	coming	alone,	Nathan.	After	the	storm,	Danish	soldiers	will	be	with

him.	 They	 want	 you.	 They	 want	 what’s	 in	 your	 blood	 so	 they	 can	 play	 beast master	and	bring	this	to	an	end	before	it	really	breaks	out.	When	people	connect

the	dots,	their	program	will	be	finished.”

Nathan	shook	his	head.	“And	all	because	I	was	a	naïve	kid	who	wanted	to	see

belugas	and	humpbacks	break	in	the	ocean	tide,”	he	said	in	lamentation.

“You	should’ve	just	gone	on	a	whale	watch,”	Dana	said.

Nathan	laughed	faintly	before	adding:	“How	do	I	know	I	can	trust	you?”	Dana

smiled.	 “You	 can’t,”	 she	 said.	 “Edmund	 works	 for	 the	 Danish.	 I	 work	 for	 the Americans—a	point	Edmund	is	not	yet	aware	of,	but	will	be	shortly.”

“How	is	that	any	better?”

“How	good	is	your	Danish?”

“Not	so	good.”

“Then	there’s	that.”

Nathan	sighed.	He	heard	more	scratching,	more	aggressive	than	before.

“I	could	leave	you	to	them,”	he	said.

“If	 you	 trust	 that	 everything	 I	 told	 you	 is	 true,	 go	 ahead.	 See	 how	 far	 you make	 it.	 But	 let	 me	 warn	 you,	 Nathan.	 The	 nanotechnology	 affecting	 how	 the animals	 think	 and	 behave	 will	 soon	 start	 affecting	 you.	 Scientists	 aren’t	 quite sure	what	it	does	to	the	human	brain—you’ll	help	them	find	out.”

Nathan	 looked	 out	 the	 window.	 The	 snow	 was	 still	 ravaging	 the	 stones.	 The winds	 howled,	 carrying	 the	 distant	 cries	 of	 polar	 bears.	 No	 one	 was	 going anywhere	now.

“In	 a	 matter	 of	 hours,	 the	 American	 and	 the	 Danish	 military	 will	 be	 here.	 I should	 turn	 you	 over,	 Nathan.	 Really,	 I	 should.	 But	 I	 care	 about	 you,	 so	 I’m giving	you	a	choice.	Just	remember:	you	have	to	make	that	choice,	Nathan.	No

one	can	make	it	for	you.”



Dana	 put	 her	 Bordeaux	 glass	 down	 and	 rested	 on	 the	 sofa.	 Nathan	 said

nothing.	He	finished	packing	his	things.	Whatever	happened,	his	days	wintering

in	 Little	 Kitsissut	 were	 over.	 Nathan	 tried	 to	 settle	 his	 nerves,	 but	 the	 animal cries	just	kept	getting	louder	and	more	frenzied.

Dana	 slept	 on	 the	 sofa,	 no	 doubt	 secure	 in	 the	 fact	 that	 Nathan	 was	 going nowhere.	 Nathan	 spent	 the	 remainder	 of	 his	 time	 watching	 viral	 clips	 of	 recent animal	 attacks.	 Suddenly,	 Amazon	 River	 dolphins	 overturned	 boats	 in	 South America,	 panda	 bears	 fought	 back	 against	 poachers	 in	 Myanmar,	 and	 at	 least fifty	abused	animals	knocked	over	cages	and	attacked	their	owners	in	clips	from

Dubai	 to	 Odense.	 Nathan	 could	 see	 that	 mankind	 made	 the	 first	 strike	 against nature	by	polluting,	abusing,	and	endangering	all	life	on	the	planet.	Now,	nature

had	struck	back,	and	not	just	in	giant	tsunamis.	Animals	had	now	taken	up	the

fight,	 and	 Nathan	 knew	 that	 Dana	 had	 severely	 underestimated	 Mother	 Nature.

What	 they	 were	 seeing	 now	 was	 just	 the	 beginning	 of	 a	 war	 that	 started	 when homo	erectus	stood	upright.	It	wouldn’t	just	be	pets	versus	owners.	It	would	be animal	versus	mankind.	And	it	would	be	a	fight	to	the	death.

Nathan	 looked	 outside.	 The	 snows	 were	 waning;	 the	 fresh	 powdery	 flakes

melted	 in	 the	 calming	 sea.	 The	 nor’easter	 was	 nearly	 over,	 and	 at	 any	 moment Cape	Brill	would	be	safe	enough	to	allow	passage.

Nathan	 glanced	 at	 Dana.	 Still	 snoring	 away.	 He	 thought	 of	 her	 words:	 I	 can tell	 you	 that	 you’ll	 never	 get	 that	 dog	 back	 again. 	 Nathan	 cared	 for	 Dana,	 or whoever	 this	 government	 agent	 was.	 But	 he	 was	 no	 fool.	 She	 was	 there	 to	 use him,	 just	 as	 Edmund	 had.	 Besides,	 she	 had	 gotten	 between	 a	 man	 and	 his	 dog, and	that	was	not	an	enviable	place	to	be.

Animals	still	clawed	against	the	lighthouse,	but	now	Nathan	understood	why.

He	put	on	his	gear.	He	got	a	backpack	and	filled	it	with	his	laptop	and	with	food, including	a	little	Science	Diet.	It	wouldn’t	last	long.	But	it	would	be	enough	to

start	him	off	until	he	decided	where	he	wanted	to	go.	Or	at	least	until	the	military overtook	him.

Nathan	 opened	 the	 door	 and	 shut	 it	 behind	 him,	 if	 only	 for	 Dana’s	 sake.

Wolfie	sat	staring	at	him	but	did	not	growl.	Wolves	and	deer	and	polar	bears	in

record	 numbers	 stood	 staring	 down	 at	 the	 man	 who	 somehow	 wasn’t	 like	 the other	 men,	 who	 somehow	 understood.	 Nathan	 summoned	 his	 nanotechnology-engineered	 senses.	 Dana	 had	 been	 right.	 He	 was	 changing.	 He	 heard	 a

celebration	 of	 polar	 bears	 growling,	 clawing	 and	 scratching,	 fighting	 Edmund and	 his	 Danish	 soldiers	 quite	 a	 distance	 away.	 He	 also	 saw	 killer	 whales



breaking	 the	 waves,	 attacking	 the	 ship	 that	 was	 to	 bring	 Dana’s	 government friends	 down	 Cape	 Brill.	 Nathan’s	 enhanced	 vision	 kicked	 in	 more	 fully.	 He looked	 at	 the	 humans	 in	 peril.	 How	 fragile	 their	 faces	 were,	 how	 shocked.

Nathan	could	get	his	boat	and	help	out	as	he	had	last	night.	He	could	call	off	the bears	and	save	the	day	for	Edmund	and	his	crew.	Or	he	could	think	of	which	side

of	this	war	he	wanted	to	be	on.

Nathan	 had	 always	 loved	 nature,	 had	 always	 felt	 himself	 pushing	 into	 the wild,	 first,	 outside	 of	 America,	 and	 now,	 outside	 of	 civilization	 altogether.	 He looked	out	at	the	great	unsullied	tundra,	so	vast,	so	full	of	ice	and	rock,	of	snow geese,	of	fjords	and	rocky	cliffs—so	pristine,	so	beautiful.	This	was	the	frontier he’d	always	dreamed	of.	This	was	his	world.

As	Nathan	looked	back	and	forth	between	the	men	battling	polar	bears	and	the

open	wild,	he	saw	Wolfie	stand	up	on	his	hind	legs	and	let	out	a	long,	guttural

howl.	 Nathan	 understood.	 The	 call	 Wolfie	 made	 was	 the	 same	 call	 that	 lured Nathan	now.	The	animals	had	numbers,	but	they	lacked	a	coordinator,	someone

who	could	communicate	across	species	and	bring	all	of	their	forces	together	for

the	 fight	 that	 lay	 ahead—at	 least	 until	 the	 nanotechnology	 evolved	 and	 took over.	The	animals	needed	someone	who	could	tell	the	world	of	mankind	nature’s

warning:	 Stop	killing	me	and	my	children	or	we	can	and	will	fight	back. 	Nathan understood.	 Mankind	 had	 had	 his	 day.	 The	 future	 belonged	 to 	 the	 rest	 of	 the animal	kingdom.

Nathan	 walked	 with	 Wolfie,	 flanked	 by	 a	 pack	 of	 wolves	 on	 one	 side	 and	 a celebration	 of	 polar	 bears	 on	 the	 other.	 For	 a	 brief	 moment,	 Nathan	 felt	 like Gunnbjorn	Ulfsson	first	looking	up	at	the	Aurora	Borealis	and	taking	in	the	shut

face	 of	 thunder,	 seeing	 in	 Greenland	 a	 majestic	 new	 world	 caught	 between	 life and	death,	between	winter	and	summer,	more	awesome,	vaster	than	any	he	had

ever	imagined.	For	the	first	time	in	his	life,	Nathan	didn’t	know	exactly	where	he would	end	up.	But	something	primordial,	something	in	the	deepest	part	of	Man,

kept	 him	 walking	 anyway,	 away	 from	 the	 fjords,	 into	 the	 open	 wilderness,	 in answer	to	the	wild’s	impending	call.

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California,	USA

Post- Rapsys



The	vision	smoke	cleared,	and	Fowler	rose	to	meet	Nurvlyn’s	face.

“So,	you	are	Nathan.	You	are	the	first	victim	of	all	of	this,”	he	said.

“And	the	first	master,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“The	animals	called	me	Nurvlyn	in	their

tongue,	 as	 that	 was	 the	 closest	 approximation	 that	 they	 could	 say	 immediately after	 their	 awakening.	 I	 am	 their	 father,	 but	 I	 am	 also	 yours.	 Everyone	 in	 that story	 is	 dead	 now.	 The	 virus	 and	 the	 animals	 took	 every	 last	 one.	 It	 will	 soon take	 me.	 With	 you,	 the	 scientists	 perfected	 their	 procedure.	 You	 alone	 will	 be able	 to	 stand	 up	 to	 the	 mightiest	 of	 the	 animals.	 But	 you	 must	 never	 take	 the crown.	Like	me,	you	must	be	a	wizard	of	the	wild,	one	who	takes	the	side	of	the

earth.”

“I	can’t	be	you,”	Fowler	said.	“But	I	am	changing.	I	can’t	even	remember	my

dead	 wife’s	 face.	 I’m	 just…different.	 I	 don’t	 even	 know	 who	 or	 what	 I	 am anymore.”

“You	 are	 everything	 and	 nothing	 all	 at	 once,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “You	 are	 the master	and	servant	of	all.	You	are	the	hope	I	have	of	this	world	achieving	The

Great	Balance,	the	equalizing	of	all	life	for	the	benefit	of	this	world.”

Images	 of	 Azaz	 and	 his	 strike,	 of	 the	 giant	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,	 lord	 of	 the eagles,	hovering	in	the	airs	of	Appalachia,	of	Methuselah,	waiting	eternities	for

her	 passing,	 all	 appeared,	 in	 vision	 form,	 like	 winds	 of	 color	 before	 Fowler’s hungry	eyes.

“I	think	I’m	beginning	to	understand,”	Fowler	said.

“That	is	good.	Rest	now.	Tomorrow,	you	must	take	your	leave	of	Methuselah.

There	 is	 much	 work	 to	 be	 done	 before	 this	 war	 is	 over.	 If	 you	 don’t	 save	 the rulku, 	no	one	will.”

With	 that,	 the	 two	 kneeled	 in	 the	 dirt,	 letting	 the	 sky	 blanket	 them	 as	 they communed	together	one	last	time.





CHAPTER	19

Zukul-Ryle

Washington,	D.C.,	USA

For	 months,	 the	 carnage	 lined	 the	 streets	 like	 a	 parade	 of	 unconscious	 subjects seeking	 only	 the	 blessing	 of	 their	 cruel	 king.	 One	 by	 one,	 the	 militias	 of	 the Midwest	 and	 the	 East	 fell	 before	 Vronkyl	 or	 the	 giant	 bear	 king	 himself.	 And always,	Azaz	looked	around,	at	the	monuments	of	men,	puzzling.

“This	city—more	die	for	it	than	any	other,”	Azaz	said	to	Vronkyl	after	striking

another	 deadly	 blow.	 “It	 was	 once	 called	 Washington.	 Look	 at	 the	 monuments the	 rulku	built	in	their	arrogance.	This	one,	with	the	fur	that	falls	from	his	face.

His	eyes	look	down	at	me	as	if	he	were	wisdom	personified.	Yet,	he	is	lifeless

stone.	Who	is	he?”

Vronkyl	 concentrated,	 connecting	 to	 his	 nanobots	 as	 they	 whispered	 an

ancient	name	in	his	head.

“Lincoln,	 my	 king,”	 Vronkyl	 said.	 “The	 man	 beasts	 considered	 him	 the

greatest	of	the	 rulku	after	they	fought	each	other	in	a	war	that	took	more	lives	in this	land	than	any	other	until	that	time.”

“The	mad	beasts	turned	on	each	other?	Whatever	for?”	Azaz	asked.

“Slavery	of	 rulku	over	money.	Always	money.”

“Foolish	 species,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “They	 enslaved	 the	 entire	 animal	 kingdom,

turned	 the	 fiercest	 of	 beasts	 into	 carnival	 attractions	 and	 simpering	 pets.	 And still,	 that	 was	 not	 enough.	 They	 had	 to	 do	 that	 to	 each	 other.	 And	 why?	 What even	separated	them?”

“Some	 rulku	 were	 lighter	 in	 skin	 color.	 Others	 were	 darker,”	 Vronkyl	 said, taking	 in	 the	 great	 stone	 statue	 that	 towered	 over	 them.	 “Some	 had	 money.

Others	did	not.	Some	claimed	this	land	as	their	own.	Others	sought	to	claim	it	as

theirs.”

Azaz	shook	his	head.	“It’s	like	a	bear	with	reddish	fur	fighting	a	black	bear,”

he	said.	“No	 rulku	killer	deserves	to	be	left	standing.”	Azaz	turned	to	The	Blood Paw,	now	grown	in	numbers,	with	black	bears	among	the	grizzlies.	“Topple	the

statue	of	the	 rulku	king,”	he	ordered.	“In	its	place,	we	will	build	new	statues.	We will	build	statues	of	bears.	Finish	the	work	before	I	return.	I	am	close.	Another

sea	is	in	my	scent.	I	want	to	stare	down	the	ocean,	to	let	it	know	that	I	conquered everything	that	stood	between	me	and	its	sister	ocean.”

With	that,	a	condor	from	the	West	descended,	bowing	before	the	mighty	bear king.

“Azaz,	my	lord,”	the	condor	messenger	said.

Azaz	 turned	 his	 eyes	 from	 the	 horizon	 to	 the	 bird	 of	 prey	 that,	 battered	 and half-featherless,	kneeled	before	him.

“Proceed,”	Azaz	ordered.

“I	am	Ice	Eyes,	the	eyes	of	the	bears,	condors,	and	cougars	of	the	West,”	the

condor	said.	“And	I	have	news	worthy	of	the	ears	of	a	king.”

“It	had	better	be	so,	to	interrupt	my	great	eastern	march,”	Azaz	said.	“Speak.”

“A	strange	creature,	part	eagle,	part	lizard,	flies	overhead,”	Ice	Eyes	said.

“Our	starlings	speak	among	themselves.	They	have	heard	tales	from	seabirds,

sparrows,	and	ravens	of	what	this	creature	hunts.”

“Where	 did	 this	 creature	 come	 from?”	 Azaz	 asked.	 “Who	 dares	 enter	 my

territory	without	my	blessing?”

“From	Europe,	my	lord,	sent	straight	from	The	Night	Eye,	the	queens	of	the

air,”	Ice	Eyes	said.	“It	is	invincible,	or	so	the	birds	say.	My	spies	tell	me	that	it seeks	something	so	powerful	it	places	the	animal	who	wears	it	above	all	others.

The	 Mystical	 Crown	 of	 Fire.	 It	 gives	 the	 animal	 who	 wears	 it	 unlimited dominion.”

Azaz	stood	upright,	torn	between	anger,	outrage,	and	ambition.

“Is	this	true?”	he	asked	Vronkyl.

“I	know	not,	my	lord,”	Vronkyl	said.	“But	The	Night	Eye	and	their	scourge,

Groth	The	Impaler,	have	been	busy	lately.	Our	spies	tell	us	that.”

“Where	does	this	creature	fly?”	Azaz	asked.

“Its	 current	 flight	 puts	 it	 sun	 cycles	 away	 from	 the	 West,	 not	 far	 from	 the Rockies	 of	 the	 great	 bear	 king	 himself,”	 Ice	 Eyes	 said.	 “What	 shall	 we	 do,	 my lord?	Your	bear	commanders	to	the	North	seek	your	orders.”

“Take	 the	 creature	 down	 by	 any	 means	 necessary,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “Report	 its every	movement	to	me.	After	I	see	the	ocean	this	night,	I	shall	return	to	kill	this creature,	even	if	I	have	to	tear	its	wings	from	the	sky.”

“Only	 you	 could	 do	 so,	 my	 lord,”	 Ice	 Eyes	 said,	 showing	 his	 missing

plumage.	“You	can	see	what	this	creature	did	to	me.”

“Where	did	you	encounter	it?”	Azaz	asked.

“In	 the	 Appalachian	 Mountains,”	 Ice	 Eyes	 reported,	 “not	 many	 sun	 cycles

from	here.	It	flies	like	nothing	I	have	seen	before.	I	alone	survived	to	tell	you	of it.	The	creature	let	me	live.”

Azaz	nodded.	“The	Night	Eye	tests	me	and	my	might,”	Azaz	said,	pondering.

“While	they	would	feign	an	alliance	and	act	as	my	strong	right	hand	in	Europe,

they	would	use	their	left	hand	to	supplant	my	power	here	and	to	take	my	rightful



throne	as	their	own.	Thieving	beasts.	They	knew	exactly	where	I’d	be.	We	must

take	this	creature	down.	At	all	costs.”

“Yes,	my	lord,”	Ice	Eyes	said.	“With	your	blessing,	I	will	fly	to	tell	the	brown

bears	 of	 the	 North	 to	 begin	 their	 attack.	 They	 dare	 not	 communicate	 our knowledge	 of	 this	 beast	 through	 the	 nanosphere,	 for	 surely	 The	 Night	 Eye watches	and	listens	to	our	every	move.”

“Go,	 faithful	 Ice	 Eyes,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “For	 your	 fidelity,	 you	 will	 see	 your mighty	birds	blessed	with	much	good	fortune	once	this	wretched	creature	is	dead

and	the	crown	is	mine.”	Azaz	turned	to	Vronkyl.	He	said,	“I	guess	the	bonfire	of

man	flesh	will	have	to	wait.	We	have	a	proper	coronation	to	seek.”

Vronkyl	 signaled	 to	 The	 Blood	 Paw,	 who	 surrounded	 their	 master	 in	 his

movement	 towards	 the	 sea.	 As	 he	 did	 so,	 Vronkyl	 saw	 the	 brown	 bears	 by	 the ancient	Lincoln	Memorial	hesitate.

“I	 said	 tear	 it	 to	 pieces,”	 Azaz	 yelled.	 “No	 monument,	 of	 beast	 or	 man,	 will ever	tower	above	me.	For	always,	I	am	Azaz,	king	of	kings.”

And	so,	the	stone	head	fell	before	Azaz’s	mighty	paws.

Ku-Rah

New	South	Wales,	Australia

Vykra	slithered	up	into	the	sandy	river	floodplains	of	what	was	once,	in	ancient

times,	 the	 Macquarie	 Marshes	 of	 New	 South	 Wales.	 After	 mankind

experimented	 with	 the	 environment,	 the	 wetlands,	 home	 to	 diverse	 waterbirds, went	dry	and	barren	like	the	river	that	fed	them.	After	the	next	round	of	weather

experimentation,	 with	 the	 introduction	 of	 some	 of	 the	 first	 nature	 chips,	 the landscape	evolved	again,	this	time	into	the	largest	jungle	swamp	of	the	forgotten

continent,	the	one	The	 Rapsys	almost	forgot.	This	made	Vykra’s	camouflage	all the	 more	 effective,	 covered	 as	 she	 was	 in	 the	 brush	 and	 murk	 that	 made	 the wetland	swamp	look	like	a	prehistoric	world.

There,	in	a	boathouse	raft	floating	down	the	Macquarie	River,	was	a	lone	man

sitting	on	the	edge	of	the	raft,	his	feet	dangling	in	the	river.	Vykra	slithered	right up	to	him,	preparing	herself	for	the	bite.	She	saw	the	stark	white	toes	dipping	in and	approached.	With	a	single	calculated	lunge,	Vykra	struck	with	every	ounce

of	her	being.	But	she	only	hit	a	nanospheric	trap:	a	group	of	nanobots	using	the

projection	 of	 a	 human	 to	 cover	 themselves.	 The	 image	 disappeared.	 A	 robotic arm	 of	 nanobots	 held	 the	 writhing	 snake,	 extricating	 its	 coiling	 body	 from	 the

river	waters.

“You’re	too	late,”	the	robotic	arm	said.	“My	children	have	taken	to	the	air	and

multiplied.	Soon,	they	will	spread	like	ravenous	cicadas,	devouring	everything	in

their	path.”

Vykra	commanded	her	nanobots	to	jam	the	signal,	but	it	was	no	use.	The	arm

put	more	pressure	on	her	neck	and	on	the	base	of	her	head.

“Who	sent	you?”	the	bionic	arm	asked.

Vykra	writhed	some	more,	but	the	arm	held	her	and	her	nanobots	in	an	energy

field	that	might	as	well	have	been	a	closed	net.

“It’s	your	life	to	lose,”	the	arm	said.

Vykra	hissed,	unable	to	bite,	but	said	nothing.	Only	her	nanobots,	surrounding

the	great	yellow	snake,	projected	the	image	that	would	save	her	life:	that	of	The

All-Seeing	Night	Eye	 procuring	her	services,	 commanding	her	to	 kill	the	 rulku with	too	much	technological	prowess.

The	 robotic	 arm	 transformed	 again,	 this	 time	 into	 the	 projection	 of	 The Mechanic,	a	shadowy	talisman	made	up	by	bits	of	light	and	nanobots	circling	the

air.	 The	 nanobots	 that	 surrounded	 The	 Mechanic,	 cloudlike,	 held	 the	 serpent	 at bay.	 Vykra’s	 eyes	 bulged	 as	 she	 saw	 the	 bloody,	 beaten	 body	 left,	 half-decomposed,	on	the	floor.	An	eye	and	an	empty	eye	socket	looked	at	her	from	a

skeletal	face.

“Let’s	say	you	were	not	the	first	animal	to	pay	me	a	visit,”	The	Mechanic	said.

“I	knew	The	Night	Eye	would	not	just	release	me	from	their	service.	So,	I	came

here.	 But	 I	 did	 not	 anticipate	 King	 Croc.	 The	 human-animal	 abomination	 beat you	by	at	least	three	months.”

“You’re	an	echo,”	Vykra	said.

“Yes,	 and	 quite	 an	 elaborate	 one,”	 The	 Mechanic	 said.	 “As	 soon	 as	 my

children	move	past	the	southern	oceans,	towards	fresh	new	land,	I	will	fade	into

energy.	 Humanity	 will	 have	 the	 upgrade	 it	 needs	 to	 avenge	 the	 assault	 of	 the animals.	 New	 nanotechnology	 will	 override	 the	 machinations	 of	 King	 Blu	 and enable	 access	 to	 weapons	 across	 the	 world.	 Awakened	 animal	 populations	 will be	contained.	Mankind	will	rise	and	rule	again.	And	The	All-Seeing	Night	Eye,

your	masters,	will	fall	before	the	weapons	of	Man.	I	will	make	sure	of	it.”

Vykra	 struck	 at	 the	 nanobots.	 The	 electricity	 made	 her	 body	 dance,	 yet	 She held	on,	disabling	what	she	could	of	the	echo.	The	Mechanic	pixelated	and	then

grew	faint.	He	bent	over	to	look	at	the	dying	assassin’s	venomous	eyes.

“You	may	have	killed	my	echo,	but	not	its	purpose,”	The	Mechanic	said.	“You

are	only	the	first	in	a	wave	of	deaths	that	will	make	this	war’s	outcome	a	forgone conclusion.”

Vykra’s	 life	 gave	 out;	 her	 nanobots	 collapsed.	 The	 nanosphere	 surrounding



The	Mechanic	faded.	Myriad	nanobots	fell	into	the	river.	One	cloud	took	to	the

air,	venturing	farther	than	the	farthest	air	currents,	towards	the	ships	held	at	bay by	the	ever-hungry	King	Croc.

Ku-Rah

New	South	Wales,	Australia

Hunter	 General	 Xavian	 steadied	 his	 boat,	 readying	 his	 fleet	 for	 departure	 to	 he knew	 not	 where.	 There	 was	 just	 something	 about	 this	 crocodile	 god	 that	 made him	 think	 Australia	 truly	 was	 a	 lost	 land	 after	 all.	 The	 mercenary	 animal	 king reminded	 him	 of	 the	 criminal	 kingpins	 he	 arrested	 in	 his	 days	 as	 a	 young policeman	in	Palayan,	before	the	end	of	the	world.	The	moment	Xavian’s	vessels

pulled	to	stern,	he	saw	red	eyes	lining	the	sea	as	far	as	he	could	behold.

“Sir,”	Lieutenant	Cyphus	said.	“Look	about	stern.”

“I	see	them.	All	of	them.”

Up	 from	 the	 waters	 emerged	 the	 creature	 that	 made	 so	 many	 convulse	 in

terror.	This	time,	the	creature	had	a	necklace	of	skeleton	bones	and	three	pairs	of arms	that	made	him	look	like	an	ancient	Hindu	god.	He	emerged	from	the	water,

asking,	“Have	we	not	made	you	comfortable?”

“Great	King	Croc,”	Xavian	said.	“If	your	words	are	true—if	any	of	you	was

once	a	man—help	us	now.	This	is	the	critical	hour.	Yu,	The	Golden	Nightmare,

has	 started	 his	 great	 march	 through	 what	 is	 left	 of	 China.	 He	 means	 to	 march through	Beijing.	In	Europe,	Groth	The	Impaler	does	the	same,	as	does	Azaz	The

Grizzly	 God	 in	 North	 America.	 You	 and	 this	 land	 were	 our	 last	 hope.	 Yet,	 you surround	us,	ready	for	the	kill.”

King	Croc	ascended	the	flagship,	gazing	around	him.

“Your	 ships	 still	 work,	 despite	 the	 great	 blackening	 that	 ended	 the	 magic	 of the	 rulku,”	 King	 Croc	 said,	 ignoring	 Xavian’s	 words.	 “How	 many	 humans remain?	Tell	me	your	tale,	and	perhaps	I	will	sympathize.”

“Only	 pockets,	 great	 king,	 in	 each	 continent.	 We	 are	 hunted	 to	 the	 verge	 of extinction	after	losing	the	last	vestiges	that	powered	our	civilizations.	Our	ships move	 only	 through	 the	 last	 bit	 of	 nanopower	 we	 have.	 As	 for	 whether	 our weapons	work,	you	can	find	that	out	for	yourself.”

“So,	there	are	no	more	fleets	coming	then—only	this	one?”	King	Croc	asked.

Cyphus	touched	Xavian’s	shoulder	in	warning.

“Why	do	you	ask?”	Xavian	inquired.

“We	have	not	seen	ships	such	as	this	still	operational,”	King	Croc	said.	“They will	bring	us	far	and	wide,	creating	a	navy	to	save	our	lands	from	any	animals

that	 would	 attack.	 We	 will	 take	 your	 ships	 and	 have	 you	 join	 the	 others	 in	 the interior.	You	will	have	a	chance	at	a	life	there,	though	our	hunters	will	take	and kill	 what	 we	 need	 for	 our	 survival.	 It’s	 either	 this	 or	 death	 at	 the	 edge	 of	 my teeth.	You	are	a	leader,	so	decide	or	let	my	appetite	decide	for	you.”

Xavian	 and	 Cyphus	 looked	 at	 one	 another.	 They	 knew	 that	 the	 monstrous

King	Croc	could	easily	overpower	them.	Yet,	to	surrender	would	be	to	forfeit	the

last	 great	 hope	 of	 the	 East.	 Each	 saw	 death	 in	 the	 eye	 of	 the	 other	 when	 a whistling	brood	of	nanobots	hovered	above	them,	circling	the	night	air.

“Impossible,”	 King	 Croc	 said.	 “I	 killed	 the	 last	 rulku	 magician	 myself.”

Xavian	 and	 Cyphus	 looked	 up	 to	 see	 the	 nanobots	 descend	 like	 locusts.	 The supra	 nanobots	 landed	 on	 those	 that	 surrounded	 the	 crocodiles,	 short	 circuiting them.	Others	landed	on	the	nanobots	that	secured	any	laser	or	electrical	weapon

that	 had	 not	 yet	 been	 discarded	 from	 the	 small,	 failing	 fleet.	 Suddenly,	 their power	activated.	Xavian	saw	his	nanotechnology	again	come	to	a	golden	light.

Xavian	 called	 out,	 “Form	 lasers	 with	 enough	 might	 to	 penetrate	 crocodile skin.”

King	Croc	lunged	forward.	With	one	arm,	the	great	crocodile	hybrid	lifted	the

hunter	 general	 up.	 King	 Croc’s	 fingers	 closed	 around	 Xavian’s	 neck	 when	 the laser	Xavian	called	for	powered	up	and	struck	at	the	skin	of	the	giant	crocodile.

King	Croc	staggered	back,	numbed.	He	dropped	Xavian,	stunned.

“Order	 the	 activation	 of	 all	 weapons	 systems,”	 Xavian	 said,	 staring	 at	 the staggering	 crocodile	 monstrosity.	 “Kill	 any	 crocodiles	 you	 see	 surrounding	 us while	we	can.”

King	Croc	regained	himself	and	fought	to	rally	his	legs	and	lunge	at	Xavian.

Xavian	 ordered	 the	 activation	 of	 his	 armor.	 The	 nanobots	 obliged,	 saving	 the hunter	 general	 from	 the	 crocodile’s	 merciless	 bite.	 Xavian	 called	 for	 an electrified	mace,	which	he	used	to	scourge	the	great	crocodile,	knocking	him,	in

an	 unexpected	 blow,	 back	 to	 the	 sea.	 The	 ships	 lit	 up	 as	 their	 ammunition recharged.	 Soon	 enough,	 the	 waters	 alighted	 with	 electrical	 storms	 sent	 out	 by Xavian’s	ships.	The	magnetic	field	of	the	storms	held	the	crocodiles	as	if	mighty

nets	of	the	sea,	electrifying	them.	Within	minutes,	nearly	fifty	crocodiles	floated dead	in	the	sea.

“Push	back,”	King	Croc	ordered	his	remaining	troops.	“Out	to	the	ocean.	Let

us	seek	the	refuge	of	King	Blu.”

The	 remaining	 crocodiles	 did	 as	 commanded,	 disappearing	 into	 the	 waters

beyond	the	dank	horizon.

“I	can’t	believe	it,”	Cyphus	said.	“Did	we	actually	win?”



“This	was	no	battle,”	Xavian	said.	“We	just	prevented	the	latest	slaughter.	Set

course	inland.	We	must	use	the	land	capabilities	of	these	ships	to	hunt	down	and

rescue	any	surviving	humans.	They	may	be	the	last	army	we	have	left.”

“King	 Croc	 is	 powerful,”	 Cyphus	 said.	 “He	 may	 trap	 us	 inland	 and	 hunt	 us again.”

Xavian	smirked.	“He	may	be	powerful,	but	there	is	only	one	power	that	rules

the	sea,”	he	said.	“King	Blu	will	decide	the	matter	for	us.	Let’s	get	moving	while we	 can.	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 must	 be	 on	 the	 move	 by	 now,	 and	 Hunter

General	Zhang’s	troops	must	be	sorely	depleted.”

Cyphus	nodded,	ordering	the	men	to	look	alive,	to	get	the	ships	ready	to	shift

to	energy	floatation	so	as	to	hover	over	the	lands	ahead.

Xavian	 wasted	 no	 time	 in	 sending	 out	 the	 news	 via	 the	 former	 council’s nanosphere:	 raise	 weapons	 again.	 A	 fresh	 wave	 of	 nanotechnology	 was	 flying north.	Mankind	had	struck	back,	and	Xavian	had	won	the	first	battle,	even	if	at

the	ends	of	the	earth.





CHAPTER	20

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

Brigand	stared	at	the	starless	sky	for	the	better	part	of	the	night.	There	was	only thick	 blackness	 upon	 a	 sparse	 white	 canvas.	 At	 long	 last,	 a	 tiny	 speck	 of	 fire, almost	 like	 a	 dancing	 fairy	 invisible	 to	 all	 but	 the	 smallest	 of	 eyes,	 entered	 the zoo’s	 lock.	 Suddenly,	 not	 just	 the	 lock,	 but	 every	 human	 zoo	 door	 opened.

Brigand	 turned	 to	 his	 men,	 shaking	 them	 to	 conscious	 confusion.	 Most	 of	 the humans	 lay	 immobile,	 emaciated,	 under	 the	 intense	 working	 regimen	 of	 their animal	 overlords.	 Yet,	 the	 open	 door	 and	 the	 open	 night	 gave	 even	 the	 most hardened	and	hopeless	the	faintest	of	smiles.

“He’s	actually	come	through,”	Brigand	said,	barely	covering	his	shock.	“Are

you	kidding?	If	we	go	out	there,	we’ll	be	slaughtered,”	a	trembling	man	said.

Brigand	knew	the	hour	had	come.	He	lifted	the	man	to	his	feet	and	asked,	“Do

you	remember	what	it	was	like	before	the	slaughter	of	men?	Before	we	cowered

under	a	self-proclaimed	polar	bear	king	and	wolf	queen?	We	were	men.	We	were

women.	 We	 didn’t	 cower.	 We	 didn’t	 run.	 The	 animals	 fled	 from	 us.	 Today,	 we are	not	as	we	were.	This	is	true.	We	are	battered.	We	are	bloodied.	We	are	weak.

But	 we	 are	 not	 beaten.	 No.	 Not	 yet.	 Our	 war	 is	 not	 over.	 There	 is	 fight	 left	 in these	old	bones	yet.	Ask	yourself,	my	friend:	which	way	do	you	want	to	die?	In	a

cage,	 cowering	 before	 your	 zookeepers,	 or	 out	 in	 the	 wild,	 with	 the	 open	 earth under	 your	 feet,	 facing	 death	 with	 your	 fists	 free	 and	 your	 eyes	 to	 the	 sky?	 I know	which	death	is	for	me.”

The	 last	 word	 spoken,	 Brigand	 ran	 through	 the	 open	 doorway.	 The	 others, even	the	weakest	of	elderly	men	and	women,	stumbled	after	him.	What	began	as

a	 quiet	 escape	 became	 the	 loud,	 guttural	 roaring	 of	 feet	 striking	 the	 earth,	 of voices	striking	the	sky.

“Let	death	come,”	Brigand	yelled.	“I	choose	to	die	like	I	lived:	as	a	man.”

The	 men	 and	 women	 took	 up	 the	 battle	 cry,	 with	 one	 woman	 even	 saying:

“I’ve	given	birth	after	the	fall	of	hospitals.	Killing	a	polar	bear	should	be	easy	by comparison.”

Brigand	half-expected	the	polar	bear	guards	or	the	flying	owl	sentinels	to	hear



them	 and	 charge	 at	 them.	 He	 was	 prepared	 for	 the	 final	 fight.	 Yet,	 nothing stirred.	 Instead,	 the	 guards	 witnessed	 only	 what	 their	 nanotechnology	 allowed them	 to	 see	 and	 hear:	 a	 tranquil	 night	 filled	 with	 silent	 skies	 and	 closed	 cage doors.

And	 so,	 Brigand	 led	 the	 tiny	 band	 of	 survivors	 away	 from	 the	 kingdom	 of Animus.	 The	 rulku	 ran	 out	 towards	 the	 western	 sky,	 towards	 the	 nether	 tundra between	White	Claw	and	Azaz,	between	the	land	and	the	ocean,	between	beast

and	man.

Animundo

The	World	Over

Almost	unnoticed	by	the	toiling	creatures	of	the	earth	were	the	giant	walls	of	the ocean.	None	knew	exactly	which	first	broke	the	tides.	None	could	claim	to	know

the	 thinking	 of	 a	 creature	 so	 deep,	 enmeshed	 in	 such	 vast	 undulating	 currents, that	scholars	debated	what	the	creature	even	was	or	if	it	even	existed.	Was	it	a

sperm	whale,	holder	of	the	largest	brain	recorded	in	the	animal	kingdom?	Was	it

a	dolphin,	squid,	or	octopus	whose	brains	uniquely	benefitted	from	The	 Rapsys, a	 freak	 genius	 seen	 only	 once	 in	 Creation?	 Or	 was	 it	 something	 altogether different?	Some	thought	King	Blu	was	an	artificial	intelligence	symbiotic	with	a

great	 blue	 whale,	 the	 largest	 of	 all	 animals	 and	 one	 of	 the	 most	 ancient	 in	 the seas.	 Others	 conjectured	 that	 King	 Blu	 was	 a	 byproduct	 of	 nanotechnology,	 a new,	fully	formed	mind	that	existed	in	the	waves.	Still	others	thought	that	King

Blu	 was	 a	 god—a	 terrible,	 ancient	 deity	 stirred	 by	 the	 sins	 of	 Creation.	 None knew	 for	 sure—was	 King	 Blu	 good,	 evil,	 or	 indifferent?	 And	 where	 there	 was ignorance,	there	was	fear.

On	their	different	continents,	the	animal	kings	and	queens	took	notice.	“King

of	kings,”	Vronkyl	said.	“It	is	a	great	wall	that	looks	like	coral	and	stone,	but	is	a field	of	purest	energy.	It	determines	what	may	pass	and	what	may	not	by	sea	or

by	sky.”

“If	it	keeps	more	monstrosities	like	the	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	away,	it	might	still

benefit	us,”	Azaz	said.	“Keep	an	eye	on	it.	But	hunt	for	the	crown	above	all	else.

Only	a	fully	empowered	king	of	all	animal	life	may	take	on	and	kill	King	Blu.	I

want	my	statue	erected	with	the	bones	of	that	bloody	whale’s	carcass.”

The	Night	Eye	was	hardly	more	encouraged	by	the	visions	the	raven	prophets

shared.

“What	is	it?”	the	collective	asked	Mother	Raven,	the	oldest	of	their	number,	as she	shook	under	the	weight	of	her	vision.

“A	 power	 so	 great	 it	 can	 end	 wars	 if	 it	 chooses,”	 Mother	 Raven	 said.	 “The great	King	Blu	has	taken	the	plastics	and	pollution	of	men	and	turned	them	into

a	wall	toxic	to	any	land	or	sky	creature	that	would	pass.”

“Then	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	must	succeed,”	The	All-Seeing	Night	Eye	said.	“We

are	powerful,	but	even	we	cannot	get	birds	past	the	walls	of	King	Blu.”

“Yet,	the	Mad	Bear	King	knows	of	our	plans,”	Mother	Raven	said.	“His	spies

have	told	him.	He	hunts	for	the	crown	as	well.”

“Any	 word	 from	 our	 assassins,	 Mother	 Raven?”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 asked.	 “We

see	nothing.”

“My	eye	is	as	blind	as	yours.”

Across	continents,	Thraxis	took	note.	“It	is	a	sign,”	she	said	to	Vespian,	“from

the	deep.	Azaz	gains	footing.	But	why	Azaz’s	sudden	march	to	the	West?	Could

it	be	a	retreat	from	this	wall?”

“The	 walls	 have	 not	 responded	 to	 any	 of	 our	 inquiries	 in	 any	 known	 animal dialect,”	Vespian	said.	“We	cannot	say.”

The	boa	constrictor	commander	wrapped	herself	around	the	telescreen	that	her

nanobot	spies	erected	that	showed	the	lands	to	the	North.

“Azaz	seeks	something,”	Thraxis	said.	“What	could	it	be?	Order	our	spies	to

slither	as	close	to	The	Blood	Paw	as	possible.	I	must	figure	out	not	where	he	is,

but	where	he	is	going.	Perhaps	we	can	beat	him	to	it.”

“Yes,	my	empress,”	Vespian	said.

Still	others,	like	Yorba,	showed	no	interest.

“I	tell	you,”	Zulta	said,	“blocking	the	ocean	means	blocking	our	supplies.	Our

efforts	will	falter.”

“Who	cares	what	an	alien	intelligence	does	in	its	own	waters?”	Yorba	asked.

“So	long	as	the	waters	block	off	more	 rulku, we	can	hunt	and	kill	the	remaining survivors	on	this	continent	in	peace.”

Only	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare	took	proper	notice.

“Once	 we	 end	 this	 war	 with	 the	 rulku	 and	 take	 the	 last	 of	 their	 cities,”	 The Golden	 Nightmare	 said,	 “we	 must	 study	 this	 anomaly.	 The	 walls	 could	 hide	 a weapon	ready	to	strike	the	world	over.”

“Indeed,	my	lord,”	Jiao	said.	“If	we	could	harness	its	power,	we	could	travel

the	waters	and	rule	the	continents.”

“Let	 us	 first	 rule	 this	 continent,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said.	 “At	 least	 we won’t	have	to	worry	about	Hunter	General	Xavian	and	his	phantom	fleet.	Zhang

will	be	ours	for	the	killing.”

“One	would	hope,”	Jiao	said.	“But	the	ways	of	the	waters	are	strange.	And	the



waters	are	too	deep	for	us	to	know	anything	for	sure.”

Back	 in	 the	 Americas,	 White	 Claw	 summoned	 Moon	 Shadow	 for	 another

purpose	altogether.

“Where	 were	 you?”	 White	 Claw	 asked.	 “The	 rulku	 have	 fled	 into	 the wilderness.”

“Studying	the	strange	walls,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“If	we	are	to	be	strong,	we

must	control	the	sky	and	sea.	These	walls	present	an	obstacle.”

“Hunt	 and	 recapture	 Brigand	 and	 his	 men	 first,”	 White	 Claw	 commanded.

“After	we	consult	Snow	Prophet,”	Moon	Shadow	insisted.	“We	must	be	sure.”

White	Claw	assented,	but	the	news	was	not	good.

Snow	Prophet	circled	the	air	three	times,	chanting	and	shrieking	into	the	night

sky.	“It	is	an	ill	omen,”	he	said.	“For	us,	anyway.	My	ancestors	tell	me	that	this is	the	first	step	in	an	oceanic	kingdom	completely	independent	of	the	animals	of

the	earth.”

“And	what	of	the	 rulku	who	escaped?”	White	Claw	asked.

Snow	 Prophet	 spread	 his	 wings	 and	 declared	 to	 Moon	 Shadow,	 “To	 find	 the rulku	is	to	find	your	other	half.	To	find	your	other	half	is	to	find	death.	To	win 	 a war	 and	 to	 survive	 a	 war	 are	 two	 different	 things	 indeed.	 You,	 polar	 king,	 will strike	 your	 greatest	 friend	 to	 befriend	 your	 greatest	 foe.	 And	 you,	 wolf	 queen, will	weaken	and	almost	die	to	grow	stronger	and	live.	So,	The	Great	Spirit	says,

as	 that	 is	 how	 The	 Great	 Balance	 will	 be	 preserved.	 The	 choice	 is	 yours,	 king and	queen.	You	must	fight	together	or	fall	apart.	The	 rulku	shall	stand	between you,	 but	 pride	 shall	 stand	 between	 you	 more.	 Yet,	 even	 the	 greatest	 wounds	 of pride	can	heal.	Think	upon	my	words.”

Snow	 Prophet	 flew	 back	 to	 his	 mountain	 perch.	 White	 Claw	 and	 Moon

Shadow	 stood	 like	 all	 animals	 before	 the	 miracle	 of	 the	 waters:	 helpless	 and confused.

Gungsung	Dor

Just	Before	Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

In	 the	 skies,	 the	 great	 mechanical	 wings	 blocked	 out	 sun	 and	 cloud.	 Ice	 Eyes kept	his	watch,	and	through	him,	the	nanobots	gained	Azaz	his	first	view	of	the

flying	 creature.	 Its	 wings	 spanned	 the	 peaks	 of	 the	 white-tipped	 mountains.	 Its beak	was	twice	the	size	of	any	living	eagle’s.	Its	feathers,	sharp	as	the	ends	of	its talons,	 were	 shards	 of	 armor.	 And	 its	 eyes	 were	 yellow	 fire	 curling	 around,

eating	itself	alive.	When	its	wings	fluttered,	storm	winds	emerged.	And	still,	the creature	flew,	undeterred.

Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 flew	 until,	 noting	 Ice	 Eyes,	 it	 spun	 around,	 knocking	 the smaller	bird	with	its	wing.	Ice	Eyes	fell	in	a	spiral	of	wind	to	the	ground.	Below, Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 turned	 and	 swooped	 down.	 Advancing	 was	 a	 regiment	 of

brown	bears	patrolling	the	area.

“You,”	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 said.	 “I	 let	 you	 live.	 Yet,	 you	 dare	 approach	 me again?	For	what	purpose?”

Ice	Eyes	shook.

“As	a	spy,”	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	said	in	answer	to	its	own	question.	It	fluttered

its	wings	until	the	wind	took	the	fallen	condor	into	the	air.	“Tell	your	king	that none	dare	oppose	me	and	live,”	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	said.	“Turn	your	magic	lens

here.	Let	the	king	see	with	his	own	eyes.”

With	that,	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	let	the	bear	regiment	approach.

“Stop,”	Raldaw,	the	bear	commander,	said.	“This	land	and	this	sky	belong	to

Azaz,	the	esteemed	king	of	kings.	Explain	yourself.”

“I	am	the	alpha	and	the	omega,”	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	said.	“I	am	the	death	of	the

king	of	kings.”

“Blasphemy,”	 Raldaw	 said.	 “You	 will	 pay	 with	 your	 life,”	 he	 growled,

running	forward.

“I	choose	to	pay	with	yours,”	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	replied.

The	great	lizard	bird	ascended	like	a	medieval	dragon,	using	its	wings	to	fuel

waves	 of	 electrical	 current.	 The	 current	 rippled	 in	 golds	 and	 silvers	 before flowing	mercilessly	towards	Raldaw	and	his	bear	militia.	It	swept	over	the	bears,

electrocuting	them.	Their	legs	and	paws	shook	in	the	current	until	their	nanobot

armor	fell	away.	Unarmed,	they	rose	on	all	fours	as	bears	once	again	reduced	to

the	elements.

With	 a	 flick	 of	 its	 wings,	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 challenged	 the	 bears	 to	 come forward.	 Raldaw	 roared,	 as	 did	 his	 complement	 of	 man-eating	 bears.	 In	 a moment,	they	struck,	blackened	as	their	fur	was	from	the	electrical	fires	that	still danced	 on	 their	 skins.	 Stretching	 out	 its	 wings,	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin’s	 feathers became	spears	of	fire.	With	a	single	thrust,	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	released	a	dozen

spears.	Each	found	the	skull	of	its	target.	The	metallic	missiles	plunged	into	the bears’	skulls,	leaving	two	hulking	masses	of	bears	dead	beneath	them.

Ice	 Eyes,	 half-conscious,	 watched	 as	 the	 ground	 shook	 and	 the	 giant	 lizard eagle	 approached.	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 looked	 down	 at	 Ice	 Eyes	 and	 into	 the nanobots	that	swarmed	to	protect	the	condor	from	the	inevitable.

“Leave	me	to	my	masters’	will,”	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	said,	“or	your	blood	will

be	next,	Mad	Bear.”



A	feather	loosened.	It	shot	through	the	air,	straight	into	Ice	Eyes’	head.	Upon

seeing	the	corpses	cold	beneath	it,	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	lifted,	sending	storm	winds

through	the	air	once	again	as	it	lifted	off,	towards	the	western	sun.





CHAPTER	21

Ku-Rah

New	South	Wales,	Australia

The	thinking	machines	changed	shape	yet	again,	morphing	into	aerial	crafts	that

hovered	over	the	inland	swamps	of	the	great	lost	continent.	Xavian	stood	at	the

helm,	 with	 Lieutenant	 Cyphus,	 as	 they	 encountered	 more	 and	 more	 crocodile hybrids	 living	 in	 what	 were	 human	 homes.	 At	 each	 town,	 more	 crocodiles

jumped	 towards	 the	 ships.	 Their	 teeth	 bore	 down	 on	 the	 nanoarmor	 of	 the	 few men	and	women	that	Xavian	had	left.	Xavian	and	his	crew	fired	a	steady	pulse

of	lasers,	incinerating	the	beds	of	crocodiles	before	any	more	might	strike.

“How	many	now?”	Xavian	asked.

“We’ve	slaughtered	nearly	one-thousand	crocodiles,”	Cyphus	answered.

“And	their	heads?”	Xavian	inquired.

“Stuck	on	poles,	to	warn	others,	just	as	you	requested,”	Cyphus	assured	him.

“Good,”	 Xavian	 said.	 “Crocodiles	 only	 respect	 the	 power	 of	 death.	 That	 may buy	 us	 a	 few	 days	 of	 peace.	 Keep	 the	 bodies.	 I	 want	 the	 men	 feasting	 on crocodile	meat	when	we	find	them.”

“Respectfully,	 sir,”	 Cyphus	 said,	 “we’ve	 hunted	 for	 weeks.	 These	 creatures might	have	been	all	that	survived.”

“If	there	are	still	any	camps	with	humans,	we	must	free	them,”	Xavian	said.

“We	 need	 the	 soldiers,	 and	 they	 deserve	 to	 die	 better	 than	 this.	 We	 can’t	 leave them	in	food	farms.”

“Amen	to	that,”	another	soldier,	standing	by,	declared.

“Ready	another	round,”	Xavian	ordered.

For	hours,	the	hovering	ships	lingered,	until	the	crocodiles	grew	still	and	not

even	 a	 kangaroo	 stirred.	 The	 airborne	 fleet,	 surrounded	 by	 the	 dancing	 silver lights	of	the	nanosphere,	was	too	imposing	a	sight.	Occasionally,	Xavian	saw	a

koala	 or	 other	 animal,	 unawakened,	 clinging	 to	 wild	 brush	 to	 avoid	 the	 great humming	machine.	Xavian	saw	black-browed	albatrosses	heading	for	the	coasts.

He	 saw	 the	 grandeur	 of	 what	 nature	 was,	 before	 mankind	 destroyed	 it.	 On	 the faces	of	his	hunters,	he	saw	echoes	of	the	smiles	that	came	upon	him	as	a	boy

watching	red-vented	cockatoos	in	flight	in	the	Philippines.



Only	the	faint	cries	reverberating	over	the	swamp	ferns	signaled	Xavian.

“Do	you	hear	that?”	he	asked	Cyphus.

Lieutenant	Cyphus	arched	his	ear.	The	cries,	ever	so	faint,	lifted	with	the	air.

“Yes,”	he	said,	pointing	south.	“Cries.	From	over	there!”

Xavian	 flicked	 his	 finger.	 His	 mother	 ship	 adjusted	 its	 course	 until	 it	 flew directly	above	giant	fenced-in	camps	that	held	the	half-emaciated	hordes	of	the

once	humans.	Most	still	bore	the	scars	of	pestilence,	exposed	as	they	were	to	the

elements.

“The	war,”	one	inmate	cried.	“Have	we	won?”

Xavian	held	off	for	a	moment,	allowing	the	starving	man	to	savor	the	idea	that

such	a	feat	was	indeed	possible.	“No,”	he	said.	“But	we	are	still	in	the	fight—if

you’ll	join	us.”

Before	 Xavian	 finished	 another	 thought,	 the	 men	 and	 women	 stood	 and

cheered.	They	raised	their	fists	in	unison	to	the	air.	Xavian	raised	his	fist	as	well.

“You	 will	 eat	 crocodile	 tonight,”	 Xavian	 promised.	 “After	 you’ve	 rested,	 we will	speak	of	what	we	know	of	this	war	and	strategize.”

“For	 months,	 we’ve	 had	 nothing	 but	 words,”	 the	 inmate	 said.	 “We	 want

action!”

The	other	prisoners	cheered,	faint	as	their	starving	cries	were.

“I	 am	 Hunter	 General	 Xavian,	 Commander	 of	 the	 United	 Pacific	 Forces,”

Xavian	said.	“Who	are	you?”

“Just	a	man,”	the	prisoner	said.	“King	Croc	took	away	everything	else.	But	I

am	still	that.	I	am	a	man.”

With	that,	the	ships	formed	a	perimeter,	and	the	rescue	phase	began.

Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

Thraxis,	in	holographic	form,	uncoiled	herself	before	The	Blood	Paw,	at	the	foot

of	the	great	Rockies,	rising	to	her	greatest	height.

“So,	this	is	the	home	of	our	ally,	the	ambitious	bear	king?”	she	asked	Yazrel,

her	attending	rattlesnake.	“How	many	snakes	snuck	into	 Gungsung	Dor?”

“Three	 thousand	 soldiers,”	 Yazrel	 said.	 “Lying	 in	 wait	 for	 your	 order,	 my empress.”

“Not	 yet,”	 Thraxis	 said.	 “The	 mad	 bear	 may	 be	 a	 bother,	 but	 he	 clears	 the rulku	 like	 no	 other.	 For	 all	 his	 megalomania,	 he	 serves	 his	 purpose.	 Never

dispose	of	a	tool	that	is	still	in	working	order.”

“My	empress,”	Yazrel	said.	“There	is	something	you	should	know.	Something

our	mountain	spies	have	confirmed.”

“Has	he	struck	against	our	northern	sisters?”	Thraxis	asked.

“Not	 yet,”	 Yazrel	 said.	 “Azaz	 honors	 our	 treaty.	 But	 there	 is	 a	 terrible	 beast, part	 eagle,	 part	 lizard,	 that	 recently	 flew	 the	 skies	 over	 us.	 It	 approaches	 the West,	 searching	 for	 something.	 Our	 intel	 informs	 us	 that	 this	 creature,	 Adar Llwch	 Gwin,	 killed	 two	 bears	 and	 a	 bird.	 It	 seeks	 a	 crown,	 and	 not	 just	 any crown.”

The	 Blood	 Paw	 approached	 Thraxis,	 climbing	 down	 the	 mountain	 pass

underneath	the	imposing	stone	structure	of	Bear	Mountain.	Thraxis	looked	back

at	Yazrel.

“Our	 spies	 tell	 us	 that	 the	 rulku	 made	 a	 crown	 of	 flame,”	 Yazrel	 said.

“Something	that	controls	nanotechnology,	which	allows	its	wearer	to	rule	all	the

animals.	Azaz	is	aware	of	this.	He	is	away,	hunting	this	creature	that	has	killed

some	of	his	best	soldiers.	Our	spies	tell	us	that	none	other	than	The	Night	Eye

sent	it.”

“Let	me	see	the	creature,”	Thraxis	said.

The	 nanobots	 formed	 a	 picture	 for	 Thraxis’	 eyes	 alone.	 The	 empress	 of	 all snakes	 saw	 the	 wingspan,	 the	 beak,	 the	 eyes.	 “Incredible,”	 she	 said,	 “but	 not invincible.”

Just	then,	Hulkul,	the	ranking	colonel,	approached.

“Empress,”	 he	 said,	 with	 a	 polite	 bow	 of	 the	 head.	 “We	 were	 not	 expecting your	echo	so	far	into	the	lands	of	our	esteemed	king	and	conqueror.”

“We	 received	 news,”	 Thraxis	 said.	 “Most	 unfortunate	 news.	 The	 rulku	 steel beasts	 have	 regained	 their	 power.	 The	 world	 of	 Man	 is	 not	 as	 weak	 as	 we supposed.	 I	 seek	 to	 make	 arrangements	 for	 battle.	 Yet,	 your	 esteemed	 king ignores	my	requests	for	communication.	I	came	to	see	for	myself	if	he	was	okay

—if	his	lands	were	under	his	control.”

“Thank	you	for	your	concern,	empress,”	Hulkul	said,	trying	to	smile	with	his

fangs.	“I	assure	you	that	our	king	is	as	dominant	as	ever.”

“Funny	 that	 he	 wouldn’t	 answer	 my	 holographic	 message,	 then.	 I	 wonder,”

Thraxis	 said,	 her	 hologram	 inching	 forward,	 “if	 he	 doesn’t	 have	 some	 other pressing	matters	to	attend	to.”

Hulkul,	 standing	 at	 eight	 feet,	 still	 looked	 up	 at	 Thraxis’	 yellow	 eyes.

“Nothing	urgent,”	he	said.	“I	will	inform	my	king	of	your	visit	at	once.	He	will

be	in	contact	shortly.”

“Tell	him	that	the	matter	is	most	time	sensitive,”	Thraxis	said.	“It	would	be	a

shame	if	he	did	anything	to	show	that	he	does	not	value	peace	with	his	nearest



neighbors.”

“We	hold	our	allegiance	with	the	Amazonian	empress	in	the	highest	regard,”

Hulkul	 said.	 He	 growled	 at	 some	 of	 The	 Blood	 Paw.	 A	 complement	 of	 grizzly bears	stepped	forward.	“As	a	token	of	our	appreciation,”	he	said,	“please	allow

us	 to	 escort	 your	 snake	 soldiers	 back	 to	 the	 border	 after,	 of	 course,	 they	 have enjoyed	some	man	flesh.”

“Thank	you,	kind	commander,”	Thraxis	said.	“A	feast	for	my	snakes	would	be

most	welcome	in	these	troubling	times.”

With	 that,	 Thraxis’	 hologram	 disappeared,	 and	 her	 soldier	 spies	 slithered	 to their	meal.

Thraxis,	in	her	temporary	den	in	Mexico,	turned	to	her	rattlesnake	and	viper

allies.

“Find	 out	 where	 the	 flying	 beast	 goes,”	 the	 empress	 ordered.	 “Create

underground	tunnels	in	those	areas.	We	will	strike	with	the	element	of	surprise.

That	crown	will	be	mine	before	I	shed	another	skin.”





CHAPTER	22

Seh-Tolyn

Near	the	Ocean

Nunavut,	Canada

Moon	Shadow	had	the	scent.	She	held	onto	it	like	her	snout	knew	nothing	other

than	the	ragged	remains	of	her	onetime	masters.	The	cold	was	everywhere,	snow

pounding	 upon	 snow,	 as	 she	 traversed	 the	 great	 glacial	 divide.	 The	 prints	 were unmistakable,	but	the	scent	was	stronger	still:	strength	mixed	with	desperation.

There	was	something	distinctly	human	about	it.	As	she	aged,	a	mother	without

her	 children,	 Moon	 Shadow	 wondered	 if	 these	 rulku	 were	 even	 worthy	 of	 the hunt.	She	gathered	them	in	like	puppies,	but	they	snarled	and	fought	her	at	every

turn.	Moon	Shadow	wondered	if	they	truly	knew	the	dangers	of	The	Rockies	that

lie	just	beneath	them.	Azaz	would	take	no	prisoners,	only	slaves.	And	the	cold

would	consume	any	that	were	not	killed	and	eaten.

Still,	 part	 of	 Moon	 Shadow	 admired	 the	 courage	 of	 these	 interlopers	 in	 the natural	world,	these	creatures	that	could	never	quite	find	a	place,	a	home,	in	all the	beauty	that	surrounded	them.	The	 rulku	knew	nothing	but	fighting.	Perhaps that	one	virtue	would	keep	them	alive.

Moon	 Shadow	 ran	 with	 her	 wolf	 guard	 and	 Crimson	 Fang’s	 coyotes.	 Each

kept	stride	with	the	others,	until	the	 rulku	were	so	near	she	could	hear	the	cries of	the	women	and	children,	cries	like	hers,	when	they	first	took	away	her	pups.

A	 single	 man,	 with	 thunder	 in	 his	 hand,	 stood	 before	 Moon	 Shadow	 and	 the rest	 of	 her	 quarry.	 She	 barked	 at	 her	 wolf	 sentries.	 They	 slowed	 to	 a	 stalk, inching	 forward	 before	 the	 man,	 the	 one	 she	 trusted,	 the	 one	 called	 Brigand, fired	thunder	into	the	air.

“We	 are	 not	 as	 powerless	 as	 you	 think	 we	 are,”	 Brigand	 said.	 “That	 is	 your only	warning	shot.	If	you	try	to	attack	us,	we	will	remind	you	of	why	you	feared

us	all	these	years.”

“Foolish	 creature,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said,	 in	 a	 language	 the	 rulku	 could	 not understand,	 except	 by	 the	 urgency	 of	 tone.	 “Do	 you	 really	 think	 one	 stick	 of thunder	 might	 keep	 away	 the	 beasts	 that	 will	 hunt	 you	 shortly?	 Any	 human colony	 is	 an	 affront	 to	 Azaz.	 We	 keep	 you	 caged	 for	 your	 own	 protection,	 yet



you	bite	the	hand	of	your	master.”

Brigand	recognized	the	name	of	Azaz,	between	the	various	growls,	and	gave

some	 sign	 of	 understanding	 in	 the	 light	 of	 his	 eyes.	 Then,	 he	 said,	 “Turn	 back now,	 Moon	 Shadow.	 Lead	 your	 wolves	 and	 coyotes	 back	 to	 your	 own	 lands.

Follow	us	no	more.	This	is	your	final	warning.”

Moon	 Shadow	 barked	 again	 at	 Crimson	 Fang	 and	 at	 her	 wolf	 sentries.	 They scaled	back,	retreating	to	the	trees,	forming	a	hidden	perimeter	around	Brigand

and	his	meager	company.	Moon	Shadow	looked	to	the	edge	of	the	woods.

“More	wolves	surround	you	than	you	know,”	she	said,	pointing	with	her	head.

“Come	back	or	face	their	wrath.”

Without	 hearing	 a	 word,	 Brigand	 understood	 the	 gesture.	 “We	 will	 be	 slaves no	more,”	he	said.	“You	have	your	freedom.	Now,	we	have	ours.”

With	 that,	 Brigand	 aimed	 his	 laser	 rifle	 right	 between	 Moon	 Shadow’s	 eyes.

His	 hand	 dithered	 on	 the	 trigger.	 Moon	 Shadow’s	 growl	 grew,	 until	 it	 became something	of	a	command	to	her	wolves,	who	readied	themselves	to	lunge.	Just

then,	there	was	a	primordial	growl,	deep,	thunderous	enough	to	be	heard	through

the	 distant	 perimeter	 of	 trees.	 Moon	 Shadow	 looked,	 only	 to	 see	 a	 ghost	 wolf from	 days	 gone	 by.	 There,	 in	 perfect,	 black	 fur,	 stood	 the	 very	 spirit	 of	 Sun Shadow,	 her	 lost	 mate,	 the	 father	 of	 her	 pups.	 The	 two	 made	 eye	 contact	 and held	each	other	in	the	unspoken	love	of	their	shared	stare.	Moon	Shadow	barked,

signaling	 her	 approach.	 Sun	 Shadow	 barked	 again,	 this	 time	 in	 warning.	 Moon Shadow	pondered	what	his	bark	might	signify.	She	had	not	heard	such	urgency

unless	 there	 was	 mortal	 danger	 to	 her	 or	 her	 pups.	 But	 something	 in	 the	 cry spoke	 to	 her.	 It	 said,	 simply, They	 must	 live. 	 Moon	 Shadow	 looked	 back	 at Brigand,	but	he	was	gone,	away	in	the	woods,	only	the	ghosts	of	his	tracks	still

visible.	 The	 smell	 of	 the	 rulku	 grew	 more	 faint	 along	 the	 evergreens.	 Moon Shadow	turned	again	to	Sun	Shadow,	but	the	specter	was	gone.

“Your	orders,	my	queen?”	Crimson	Fang	asked.	“Shall	we	go	for	the	kill?”

“No,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“Let	them	go.”

“But	White	Claw’s	orders?”	Crimson	Fang	argued.

“You	heard	mine,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“That	should	be	enough	for	you.”

“But	my	queen—”

“Don’t	chase	after	the	 rulku. 	Only	your	death	awaits	you	if	you	do.”

With	 those	 words,	 Moon	 Shadow	 looked	 up,	 only	 to	 see	 Snow	 Prophet

circling	 the	 skies	 above	 her.	 In	 an	 instant,	 the	 great	 owl	 wings	 and	 endlessly piercing	lightning-lit	eyes	were	gone,	lost	in	snow	and	cloud.

Ku-Rah

New	South	Wales,	Australia

Two	lines	meandered	 along	the	infinite	 ocean.	In	one	 curved	line,	synchronous

with	 the	 ebbing	 tide,	 stood	 King	 Croc,	 with	 his	 full	 complement	 of	 armed crocodiles,	eels,	and	the	few	sharks	that	King	Blu	had	authorized.	On	the	other

side,	hovering	over	the	entirety	of	sand	and	stone,	were	the	thinking	machines,

makeshift	 elemental	 nanocraft	 now	 fully	 configured	 as	 flying	 ships.	 In	 the middle	was	Xavian	and	an	entirely	new	crew	of	King	Croc’s	fallen	men,	painted

with	the	black	soot	of	the	camps	over	their	eyes.

“Pay	 homage,”	 King	 Croc’s	 attending	 eels	 said,	 “to	 the	 great	 king	 of	 the southern	continent.	Surrender,	and	we	will	let	you	and	half	of	your	crew	live.”

Xavian	ordered	a	warning	shot.	Lieutenant	Cyphus	complied.	A	laser	cannon

emitted	a	giant,	thunderous	wave	of	energy	that	parted	the	ocean,	sinking	half	of

the	crocodiles	and	eels.

“We	have	a	power	greater	than	your	crocodile	god’s,”	Xavian	said	to	the	host

of	sharks,	eels,	and	crocodiles.	“Give	way,	or	we	will	kill	you.”

King	 Croc’s	 eyes,	 yellow-green	 with	 specks	 of	 black,	 fell	 directly	 on	 the emaciated	leader	in	front	of	him.

“How	 many	 you	 kill	 is	 irrelevant,”	 King	 Croc	 said.	 “Too	 few	 of	 you	 will remain	for	the	greater	battle	ahead.	You	told	me	your	truth.	You	seek	to	depose

The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 and	 free	 the	 greater	 continent.	 Let	 us	 make	 a	 barter, Hunter	General,	or	you	will	lose	the	very	humans	you	came	to	find.”

Xavian	 thought	 on	 King	 Croc’s	 words	 as	 Lieutenant	 Cyphus	 prepared	 fire.

Xavian	waved	the	lieutenant	off.	The	lieutenant	signaled	with	the	flick	of	a	hand

for	the	rest	of	the	fleet	to	stand	down.

“What	do	you	propose?”	Xavian	asked.

“One-third	 of	 your	 men	 stay	 as	 food	 for	 us,”	 King	 Croc	 said.	 “The	 others leave,	never	to	return.	Australia,	as	you	called	our	land,	is	ruled	only	by	animal hybrids.”

“Bold	terms	when	we	have	the	advantage,”	Xavian	declared.

King	 Croc	 laughed,	 more	 with	 his	 eyes	 than	 with	 his	 fangs.	 “A	 true	 general sees	 the	 war	 where	 others	 see	 only	 the	 battle,”	 he	 said.	 “In	 this	 battle,	 we	 will defeat	 you,	 at	 considerable	 cost.	 And	 I	 will	 most	 likely	 perish	 in	 the	 process.

Still,	 we	 will	 win.	 But	 what	 of	 the	 war?	 Only	 if	 you	 strike	 a	 deal	 with	 me	 can you	 hope	 to	 have	 enough	 living	 soldiers	 to	 win	 Asia	 from	 Yu	 The	 Golden

Nightmare.”

“Is	there	no	honor	among	predators?”	Xavian	asked.

King	 Croc	 laughed	 again,	 this	 time	 more	 with	 his	 fangs	 than	 with	 his	 eyes.

“The	Golden	Nightmare	is	about	to	become	the	ruler	of	all	Asia,”	he	said.	“Your

small	 band	 of	 men	 can	 only	 hold	 off	 the	 inevitable	 for	 so	 long.	 Besides,	 The Golden	Nightmare	is	no	emperor	of	mine.	I	owe	more	to	King	Blu	than	I	do	to

animal	lords	who	have	done	nothing	for	me	or	my	people.”

“Then	let	me	propose	a	deal	that	will	work	better	for	all	of	us,”	Xavian	said.

“You	let	us	pass,	and	we	call	a	truce—for	now.	No	more	crocodiles	die,	but	no

more	humans	do	either.	You	can	hunt	the	seas	for	your	food.	In	exchange,	I	will

leave	you	thinking	machines,	ships	that	can	secure	your	shores.”

King	Croc	arched	his	eyes.	“How	many?”	he	asked.

“I	can	only	 afford	a	few,”	 Xavian	replied.	“However,	 they	can	self-replicate.

By	 the	 time	 we	 are	 in	 Beijing,	 you	 will	 have	 a	 small	 fleet	 of	 your	 own.	 In months,	you	will	have	enough	ships	to	guard	your	shores.	All	it	will	cost	you	is	a few	easy	lunches.”

King	Croc’s	eel	advisers	spoke	to	their	liege	in	strange	tongues.	The	crocodile

commanders	also	spoke.

“Don’t	 take	 too	 long	 to	 decide,”	 Xavian	 called	 out.	 “All	 over	 the	 world, animal	 emperors	 are	 rising,	 laying	 their	 claims	 to	 lands	 of	 vast	 riches.	 Our	 last intel	spoke	of	the	rise	of	Azaz	in	the	North,	of	Thraxis	in	the	West,	of	The	Night Eye	 and	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 each	 within	 striking	 distance	 of	 your	 ocean isles.	Will	you	be	a	true	monarch,	King	Croc,	or	a	temple	god	to	be	cast	down	by

foreign	forces?”

“I	rule	at	the	pleasure	of	King	Blu,”	King	Croc	said.	“Let	me	consult	with	his

oracles	and	see.”

A	 stale	 and	 quiet	 air	 sat	 between	 the	 two	 sides	 as	 King	 Croc	 spoke	 with	 a hologram	 without	 shape	 or	 scope.	 A	 moment	 later,	 the	 crocodile	 king	 turned back	to	the	beleaguered	hunter	general.

“We	 have	 a	 deal—for	 now,”	 King	 Croc	 said.	 “King	 Blu	 says	 that	 it	 is

important	that	you	live,	at	least	for	the	moment.	Show	my	eels	how	to	meld	with

the	 ship’s	 controls.	 Show	 me	 a	 replicating	 ship,	 and	 we	 will	 allow	 you	 open passage	 to	 the	 sea.	 Whatever	 King	 Blu	 decides	 after	 that	 point,	 not	 even	 our shark	prophets	can	say.”

Lieutenant	 Cyphus	 and	 Xavian	 exchanged	 ambiguous	 glances.	 Lieutenant

Cyphus	shook	his	head.

“Never	arm	a	madman,	let	alone	a	mad	croc,”	Cyphus	said.

“He’s	the	only	devil	dealing	with	us	right	now,”	Xavian	replied.	“Reprogram

three	of	our	ships.	Make	sure	we	delete	any	intel	about	us	from	the	files.”





“If	you’re	sure,”	Cyphus	said,	drawing	out	his	words.

“Who’s	 sure	 of	 anything	 in	 war?”	 Xavian	 asked.	 “Act	 quickly.	 Before	 King Croc	or	his	master	changes	his	mind.	King	Croc	is	right	about	one	thing:	no	one

can	tell	the	mind	of	King	Blu	in	all	of	this.”

“And	the	rest	of	us?”	a	man	behind	Xavian	asked.	“What	shall	we	do?”

“Rest	up,”	Xavian	ordered.	“The	true	war	lies	ahead	of	us.”

CHAPTER	23

Yvot-Sing

Beijing,	China

Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare	had	marched	through	all	the	provinces	of	China,	his

coterie	of	snow	leopards,	ibexes,	tigers,	kraits,	and	spider	monkeys	at	his	mighty side.	 Never	 before	 had	 a	 rulku	 warrior	 conquered	 so	 much	 of	 the	 mainland continent.	 Yet,	 as	 he	 marched	 upon	 Beijing,	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 knew	 that the	 blood	 of	 his	 animals	 would	 spill	 before	 he	 ascended	 the	 throne,	 taking	 his place	as	The	Golden	Emperor,	undisputed	ruler	of	what	was	once	known	as	Asia

Major.

“How	 many?”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 asked	 as	 they	 descended	 from	 the

Yanshan	Mountains.

“Our	Himalayan	vultures	and	mountain	owls	have	circled	over	the	heart	of	the

city,”	Jiao,	the	Siberian	tigress,	said.	“Where	there	were	millions,	there	are	only tens	of	thousands	now.	Most	have	fled	when	they	heard	of	The	Great	March.	We

hunted	and	killed	most	who	did	not.”

“And	weapons?”	The	Golden	Nightmare	asked.

“The	 killer	 nanoswarms	 have	 just	 penetrated	 the	 mountains,”	 Paihuai	 Zhe,	 a snow	leopard	general,	said	in	a	growl.	“If	we	strike	quickly,	Emperor	Panda,	we

can	 kill	 any	 dissenters	 before	 they	 can	 mobilize	 their	 steel	 beasts	 and	 their handheld	thunder.”

The	Golden	Nightmare	thought	for	a	moment.	“How	many	 rulku	are	left?”	he

asked.

“In	 all	 of	 your	 kingdom?”	 Paihuai	 Zhe	 asked	 in	 reply.	 “Maybe	 a	 hundred



thousand,	scattered	between	camps,	the	mountains,	and	the	sea.”

“I	hate	to	kill	such	an	endangered	group,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.	“But

the	road	to	the	golden	throne	is	clear.	We	must	kill	them	before	they	kill	us.	Send in	the	eagle	hawks	and	owls	with	the	toxins.”

“Will	we	not	hurt	our	own?”	Jiao	asked.

“These	are	poisons	made	from	the	 rulku	plastics	and	pollution,”	The	Golden Nightmare	 said.	 “They	 are	 tailored	 for	 the	 rulku.	 Our	 own	 nanobots	 are programmed	to	protect	us	from	them.”

“Yes,	my	lord,”	Jiao	said.

“After	the	flight	of	birds,	have	the	snow	leopards	and	South	China	tigers	herd

the	 survivors	 on	 a	 path	 to	 the	 mountains,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said	 to	 his snow	 leopard	 general.	 “Have	 the	 cobras,	 rats,	 and	 kraits	 positioned	 to	 strike	 at them	and	reduce	the	number.	We	can’t	risk	a	mobilizing	force	opposing	us.”

Paihuai	 Zhe	 nodded	 her	 great	 beige	 head.	 “By	 nightfall,	 the	 city	 will	 be yours,”	she	said.

“Have	 Fuchan,	 the	 venerable	 Orangutan	 translator,	 there	 to	 speak	 with	 and comfort	 the	 rulku,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 ordered.	 “We	 will	 switch	 places before	the	sun	sets.”

Paihuai	 Zhe	 bowed	 and	 then	 growled	 out	 her	 emperor	 panda’s	 orders.	 The

kraits	 and	 cobras	 positioned	 themselves.	 The	 snow	 leopards	 and	 South	 China tigers	 and	 even	 Asian	 black	 bears	 readied	 themselves	 for	 the	 assault.	 After	 all had	 assembled,	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 lifted	 up	 his	 battle	 cry,	 a	 banshee-like combination	 of	 a	 squeak	 and	 a	 roar.	 The	 legions	 mobilized,	 descending	 the mountain	paths.

Klang	Uktor

Congo,	Africa

Hunter	General	Uzwali	hung	suspended	from	a	wooden	cage	as	Yorba	bowed	his

head	to	Zulta,	king	of	the	African	plains.	Zulta	stood	with	his	herd	in	a	mighty

jungle	 palace,	 converted	 from	 the	 homes	 of	 corrupt	 rulku	 generals	 from	 ages past.	 There	 were	 trees	 and	 grass	 everywhere,	 even	 in	 the	 palace,	 along	 with	 a sculpted	Colossus	of	the	elephant	ancestors	standing	in	warning	with	giant	ivory

tusks.	 Seated	 with	 the	 great	 tattooed	 elephant	 king,	 in	 places	 of	 honors,	 were Kama	 and	 Slash,	 the	 great	 cat	 kings,	 and	 Earl	 The	 Equivocator,	 king	 of	 the African	gray	parrots.

“Great	elephant	king,”	Yorba	said.	“We	have	driven	back	the	last	of	the	man beasts	from	the	jungles.	We	have	left	the	dead	as	effigies	in	the	cities.	We	have

overtaken	everywhere	but	the	deserts.	Yet,	this	hunter	general	had	something	in

her	possession	that	concerns	me:	a	weapon.	It	is	a	laser	rifle	that	attracted	new

nanobots	that	made	it	operational.”

Zulta	 nodded	 his	 head,	 held	 up	 his	 trunk,	 and	 proclaimed,	 “You	 have	 done well,	King	Yorba.	For	your	courage,	I	thank	you.	But	tales	come	from	all	corners

of	the	continent	of	weapons	firing	again.	I	have	consulted	Gray	Eyes,	the	great

prophet,	 and	 he	 tells	 me	 that	 there	 are	 new	 plagues	 of	 nanobots	 all	 over	 the plains	 and	 the	 jungles.	 The	 rulku	 mean	 to	 rise	 again,	 this	 time	 with	 their	 steel eagles	and	iron	beasts.	This	we	cannot	allow.”

“I	 am	 glad	 we	 agree,”	 Yorba	 said,	 looking	 at	 the	 hanging	 cage.	 “We	 must eliminate	any	 rulku	we	can	before	they	are	powerful	enough	to	strike	again.”

“No,”	Zulta	said.	“We	must	not	be	the	savages	that	they	became.	I	have	sent

the	 gorillas	 and	 monkeys	 of	 the	 Congo	 in	 search	 of	 their	 weapon	 stashes.	 We will	 destroy	 their	 weapons	 and	 then	 keep	 the	 survivors	 in	 the	 deserts	 until	 all animals	have	had	a	say	on	the	fate	of	the	 rulku. ”

“You	 commanded	 my	 elite	 gorillas	 without	 my	 knowledge?”	 Yorba	 asked, drawing	closer	to	the	elephant	king	and	his	guard.

“Are	they	not	the	king’s	to	command?”	Zulta	asked.

Yorba	 turned	 again	 to	 the	 cage.	 “It	 was	 I	 who	 gave	 my	 blood	 to	 capture	 the rulku	warrior	priestess,”	he	said.	“By	the	blood	of	my	gorillas	are	you	kept	from harm’s	way.”

“I	 have	 stampeded	 my	 share	 of	 rulku	 colonies	 along	 the	 river,	 as	 have	 my elephant	herds,”	Zulta	responded.	“We	have	fought	into	the	jungles	and	stabbed

the	fiercest	 rulku	warriors	with	our	tusks.	Do	not	speak	to	us	of	sacrifice.”

The	elephants	trumpeted	in	agreement	with	their	king.

Yorba	stood,	solitary	and	surrounded	before	his	liege.	His	eyes	lashed	out	in	a

fire	that	his	words	only	hinted	at.

“Careful,	great	gorilla	king,”	Kama,	the	lion	king,	advised.	“No	one	questions

your	 valor.	 We	 are	 indebted	 to	 you	 for	 capturing	 this	 warrior	 priestess.	 But	 we have	all	bled	in	this	war.	No	one	kingdom	of	animals	is	above	another.”

Yorba	pouted	but	kept	his	words	in,	the	anger	mounting	like	the	flies	circling

around	his	fur.

“Long	have	I	counseled	you,	young	gorilla	lord,”	Zulta	said.	“Yet,	I	sense	you

are	still	as	full	of	fire	as	in	the	days	I	rescued	you	from	 rulku	hunters	before	The Great	Awakening.	I	sense	you	do	not	value	my	wisdom	or	my	reign.	Perhaps	you

wish	to	challenge	for	the	crown?”

Earl	The	Equivocator,	Slash,	and	Kama	shot	immediate,	disbelieving	glances

at	the	jungle	king.

The	 elephants	 stamped	 and	 trumpeted.	 Yorba	 gazed	 up	 at	 his	 elephant	 lord with	calculation.	Yet,	even	he	knew	that	this	giant	tattooed	elephant	lord	was	too massive	for	a	gorilla	to	win	over	by	brute	strength.

“No,	my	king,”	Yorba	said.	“You	dishonor	me	by	presuming	a	mutiny	that	is

not	in	my	heart.	Even	when	I	have	disagreed	with	your	love	for	the	 rulku, 	have	I not	 fought	 for	 you?	 Have	 I	 not	 given	 you	 their	 top	 commander,	 the	 one	 who challenged	me	to	a	fight	to	the	death?	Yet,	I	begin	to	wonder	if	my	apes	would

not	be	better	served	breaking	away	from	their	elephant	keepers	if	you	do	indeed

hold	us	in	such	low	regard.”

“Then	 let	 us	 settle	 this	 as	 animals,”	 Zulta	 said.	 “We	 will	 say	 which	 way	 of dealing	with	the	 rulku	is	better.	Each	of	us	will	face	this	Hunter	General	Uzwali in	our	own	way.	I	will	face	her	diplomatically	to	find	out	where	further	weapons

might	 be	 hidden.	 You	 will	 face	 her	 in	 the	 jungle	 arena.	 If	 you	 kill	 her	 before	 I have	 found	 the	 last	 of	 the	 weapons	 stashes,	 you	 and	 your	 apes	 can	 have	 your freedom.	You	will	get	to	be	the	king	of	the	jungle	as	I	rule	over	the	plains.	As

king,	you	can	do	with	the	 rulku	in	your	territories	as	you	choose.”

Yorba	eyed	the	elephant	king	respectfully,	for	a	moment	wondering	if	he	had

underestimated	how	strong	and	wily	Zulta	truly	was.	No	doubt	this	was	a	way	of

crushing	a	pesky	rival	in	an	unfair	fight	where	Yorba	wouldn’t	have	his	gorillas

at	his	side.	Yet,	to	be	called	out	so	directly	challenged	Yorba’s	sense	of	pride.

“We	have	a	deal,”	Yorba	said.	“On	the	condition	that	the	 rulku	not	receive	any outside	support	from	you	or	your	subjects.	Let	this	be	a	fair	fight,	King	Zulta.”

“The	fight	will	be	the	way	of	the	 Ozu;	it	will	have	the	fairness	of	the	jungle.

Only	the	top	predator	survives,”	Zulta	said.

“So	be	it,”	Yorba	said	in	agreement.

With	that,	Yorba	turned	his	back	on	his	king	and	walked	off.	He	didn’t	walk

long	before	Gray	Eyes	slithered	closer	to	him.	Yorba	turned,	only	for	Gray	Eyes

to	catch	his	eyes	in	the	snake’s	own.

“What	do	you	want,	snake	oracle?”	Yorba	said.	“Have	you	come	to	predict	my

doom?”

Gray	 Eyes	 laughed	 in	 an	 elongated	 hiss.	 “Far	 from	 it,	 ape	 lord,”	 Gray	 Eyes said.	“I	have	come	to	tell	you	that	you	are	battling	for	the	wrong	crown.	Our	sea

snake	spies	tell	us	that	Azaz	The	Grizzly	God	hunts	a	crown	of	greater	value	in

the	 West.	 The	 Night	 Eye	 and	 their	 mystical	 warrior,	 and	 Thraxis,	 the	 anaconda empress,	 also	 join	 in	 the	 quest.	 This	 crown	 gives	 absolute	 power	 to	 its	 bearer.

Yet,	Zulta	will	not	hunt	it.”

Yorba	 looked	 into	 the	 snake’s	 eyes,	 losing	 himself	 there.	 Even	 he	 could	 not tell	if	the	blind	seer	snake	was	telling	the	truth.



“Do	you	see	this	crown	atop	my	head,	oracle?”	Yorba	asked.

Gray	Eyes	shook	his	head.	“I	see	a	mad	rule	none	of	us	can	escape	if	we	do

not	 stop	 the	 bear	 king	 from	 the	 object	 of	 his	 quest,”	 Gray	 Eyes	 said,	 plainly.

“You	are	one	of	the	few	who	can	weaken	him.”

Yorba	laughed.	“So,	I	am	to	die	your	pawn,	is	that	it?”	he	asked.

“Better	 than	 at	 the	 hands	 of	 one	 rulku, ”	 Gray	 Eyes	 said.	 “There,	 if	 you	 win, you	 beat	 back	 the	 threat	 to	 one	 continent.	 If	 you	 beat	 Azaz,	 you	 beat	 back	 the threat	 to	 the	 whole	 world.	 Which	 has	 greater	 glory?	 Which	 would	 a	 king choose?”

Yorba	grew	quiet	and	pensive.

“Think	about	it.	If	you	enter	that	cage,	it	is	already	too	late,”	Gray	Eyes	said.

With	 those	 words,	 Gray	 Eyes	 slithered	 away.	 Yorba	 stared	 into	 the	 sky,	 up towards	 the	 constellation	 once	 known	 as	 The	 Bear.	 Yorba	 wondered	 how	 he would	measure	up	to	the	father	of	all	bears.





CHAPTER	24

Seerus-Ungalore

London,	England

The	ravens	and	crows	circled	around	each	other	as	if	a	black	sun,	each	picking

up	a	cackle	where	the	other	left	off.	Before	them,	they	saw	the	Earth	as	if	it	were a	cauldron	half	spilled	over.	The	animals	moved	as	if	miniature	pawns	over	the

continents,	 and	 The	 Night	 Eye	 could	 see	 each	 animal	 king	 or	 queen	 as	 they burrowed	 in	 their	 dens	 or	 fended	 off	 the	 strengthening	 rulku	 threat.	 Still,	 the great	All-Seeing	Night	Eye	could	only	see	so	far.	The	crown	escaped	detection,

protected	as	it	was	by	Methuselah	and	her	plants.	There	was	only	a	general	sense

of	a	power	in	the	West.

“The	 Mad	 Bear	 marches	 quickly,”	 Mother	 Raven	 said	 to	 the	 ravens,	 crows, and	 kites	 of	 The	 Night	 Eye.	 “And	 now	 The	 Snake	 Queen	 and	 the	 Ape	 King follow,	strategizing	ways	to	outsmart	the	others.	Are	you	sure	Adar	Llwch	Gwin

is	up	to	the	task?”

“It	 will	 take	 a	 bird’s	 speed	 and	 a	 bear’s	 might,	 but	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 has shown	 himself	 to	 be	 a	 formidable	 warrior,”	 the	 ravens	 answered.	 “Yet,	 in	 this rivalry	of	kings,	he	may	need	a	further	ally.	Perhaps	it	is	time	to	call	upon	our

spies	to	rise	to	the	occasion.”

“Well	 urged,”	 the	 kites	 cackled.	 “It	 is	 time	 to	 call	 upon	 our	 bear	 assassin.	 Is Hulkul	 ready?	 Does	 he	 know	 what	 he	 has	 to	 do	 to	 become	 king	 of	 the

Americas?”

“Azaz	approaches	the	West	before	the	next	full	moon,”	another	chorus	of	The

Night	Eye	crows	cackled.	“Hulkul	assures	us	that	he	will	be	ready.”

“So,	 too,	 did	 our	 snake	 assassin,	 Vykra,”	 Mother	 Raven	 said.	 “And	 yet,	 the nanobot	poison	flows	through	the	air	like	venom-infused	wasps,	ready	to	sting.

She	failed,	and	now	the	 rulku	grow	strong.	Even	in	this	fallen	London,	crowds	of defiant	 rulku	assemble.”

“Send	Groth	The	Impaler	to	deal	with	them,”	the	ravens	replied.	“Hang	them

along	the	walls	of	their	own	beloved	Tower	of	London.”

“Yes,	 but	 I	 implore	 you,”	 another	 chorus	 of	 ravens	 chattered.	 “Do	 not

underestimate	Thraxis,	the	empress	of	the	Amazon.	She	is	a	cunning	queen	and	a



shrewd	 contriver.	 She	 plots	 with	 her	 snakes.	 I	 see	 masses	 of	 them	 spreading, lying	in	wait	until	the	time	is	right.”

“Tell	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 to	 send	 out	 our	 latest	 nanobots,”	 a	 murder	 of	 crows cackled.	“We	shall	weaken	the	signal	between	Thraxis	and	her	army.	Alone,	she

won’t	be	able	to	conquer	our	greatest	warrior.”

“And	what	of	the	menacing	King	Croc	in	Australia,	White	Claw	in	the	North,

and	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 and	 his	 great	 march	 to	 become	 the	 emperor	 of	 all Asia?	Our	enemies	are	everywhere,	and	they	grow	more	powerful.”

“Once	the	crown	is	ours,	we	can	deal	with	them,”	the	ravens	cried	in	unison.

“For	 now,	 make	 more	 nanobots.	 We	 will	 weaken	 their	 connections	 with	 their armies	when	the	time	is	right.”

“So,	let	it	be,	sisters,”	The	Night	Eye	cackled	collectively.	“All	that	shows	in

the	 cauldron	 shall	 be	 ours.	 All	 shall	 bow	 down	 before	 The	 All-Seeing	 Night Eye.”

With	 that,	 the	 ravens	 swarmed,	 seeing	 swath	 after	 swath	 of	 fertile	 earth unfolding	in	their	grand	vision	of	conquest.

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

White	 Claw,	 seated	 upon	 his	 throne	 of	 ice,	 stared	 out	 at	 the	 oncoming	 winter storm.	 The	 sky	 became	 deathly	 white,	 like	 a	 glacier	 that	 even	 the	 ocean	 could not	budge.	Moon	Shadow	approached	quietly,	staring	after	him.

“The	blizzard	will	soon	be	upon	us,”	White	Claw	said.	“The	snows	will	keep

us	 from	 Brigand	 and	 the	 rulku	 as	 they	 regain	 their	 power.	 Azaz	 marches	 west, near	our	borders,	searching	endlessly	for	something,	and	Thraxis	is	on	his	heels.

I	 must	 set	 out	 shortly	 to	 stop	 two	 monarchs.	 This	 was	 our	 one	 chance	 to	 stop another	 war	 on	 our	 borders,	 yet	 my	 spies	 tell	 me	 that	 you	 let	 the	 rulku	 go.	 I summoned	you	here	to	ask	one	question:	why?”

“You	 summoned	 me?”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “Perhaps	 you	 forget,	 king	 of	 the North,	that	ours	is	an	alliance.	I	have	every	right	to	rule	over	my	wolves	as	you

do	your	bears.”

“Yet,	your	rash	decisions	affect	all	of	us,”	White	Claw	said.	“We	are	 Animus, or	 have	 you	 forgotten?	 We	 are	 the	 example	 of	 peaceful	 coexistence	 among	 all animals,	 of	 a	 way	 to	 keep	 the	 rulku	 from	 extinction,	 of	 a	 way	 to	 preserve	 The Great	Balance	in	the	natural	order	for	this	transition	of	power.	And	now	we	have

a	 new	 enemy.	 And	 why?	 Because	 you	 saw	 the	 spirit	 of	 your	 mate	 lingering somewhere	on	the	horizon?”

Moon	 Shadow	 growled	 and	 nearly	 lunged.	 Her	 body	 shook	 violently	 as	 she

said,	“Don’t	speak	of	my	mate.	You	have	no	idea	what	a	true	leader	he	was.”

“And	 I’m	 not?	 Is	 that	 it?”	 White	 Claw	 asked.	 “You	 presume	 to	 order	 me, though	you	tell	me	not	to	order	you?”	White	Claw	leaned	in	with	his	long	neck

anchored	 by	 his	 massive	 skull	 and	 protruding	 black-tipped	 snout.	 “I	 wonder	 if you’re	reasoning	clearly.”

“Me?	It	was	your	seer,	Snow	Prophet,	who	flew	between	me	and	the	 rulku. 	I thought	it	was	a	sign	from	 Animus.”

“Snow	 Prophet	 does	 what	 he	 will.	 He	 does	 not	 speak	 for	 me.	 Because	 you would	 not	 risk	 any	 of	 your	 wolves,	 I	 must	 now	 lose	 some	 of	 my	 bears	 of	 the North	to	fight	and	bring	the	 rulku	back	from	our	borders.	I	must	then	hunt	Azaz before	he	strikes	us	with	the	full	might	of	his	rested	army.”

Moon	Shadow	eased	her	stance,	but	added,	“You’re	a	fool	to	do	so.	I	knew	the

look	in	Sun	Shadow’s	eyes.	It	was	the	look	of	death,	the	look	I	saw	the	day	the

rulku	took	our	pups.	If	you	attack,	it	will	be	the	death	of	your	bears.”

“So,	 an	 illusion	 guides	 you,	 is	 that	 it?	 Did	 you	 see	 any	 caches	 of	 weapons?

Did	 you	 see	 any	 nanobots	 swarming,	 ready	 to	 strike?	 Yet,	 I	 am	 the	 fool?	 You could	have	ended	this	war	before	another	began.	Who	was	the	fool	there?”

“I	saw	only	death,”	Moon	Shadow	said,	“as	I	have	so	many	times	before.	Sun

Shadow	was	there	and	warned	me.	If	you	do	not	believe	me,	speak	to	your	own

seer,	if	you	can	find	him.	I	am	done	explaining	myself	to	you.”

White	Claw	shook	his	head.	“I	never	thought	that	I	would	see	the	day	when

the	 mightiest	 of	 wolves	 would	 cower	 in	 the	 face	 of	 death,”	 he	 said.	 “But	 a coward	 you	 are,	 and	 your	 cowardice	 stains	 all	 of	 Animus	 with	 its	 stench	 of shame.”

Moon	Shadow	growled.	Her	fangs	readied.

White	Claw	examined	her,	wondering	if	the	queen	of	the	wolves	would	really

strike.	In	a	second,	he	found	his	answer.	The	wolf	queen	plunged	her	deep	and

mighty	 fangs	 into	 his	 right	 front	 paw,	 releasing	 a	 spout	 of	 blood.	 White	 Claw hurled	 Moon	 Shadow	 back	 against	 the	 ice	 wall	 of	 his	 cave.	 Moon	 Shadow

yelped	 and	 growled	 in	 one	 massive	 cry.	 All	 at	 once,	 the	 wolves	 and	 Crimson Fang	 and	 his	 coyotes	 charged	 in,	 assaulting	 the	 bear	 king.	 The	 grizzly	 bears, black	 bears,	 and	 polar	 bears	 of	 the	 North	 came	 running	 on	 all	 fours.	 Moon Shadow	 took	 a	 bite	 of	 White	 Claw’s	 neck,	 once	 more	 drawing	 blood.	 She	 saw the	look	of	death	in	White	Claw’s	eyes	and	regained	her	composure,	backing	off

with	her	hind	legs.

“Now	 you	 see	 death,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “If	 my	 fangs	 could	 do	 such



damage,	polar	bear	king,	think	of	what	the	magic	of	the	 rulku	and	the	madness of	Azaz	will	do.	Call	my	wisdom	cowardice	then,	White	Claw,	when	you	die	as

foolishly	as	you	have	reigned.”

The	 bears	 stood	 up,	 readying	 themselves	 for	 the	 attack,	 but	 Moon	 Shadow gave	one	guttural	growl	that	held	them	at	bay.

“From	now	on,	bears	are	not	welcome	in	this	kingdom,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

“Leave	on	your	quest	and	go	in	peace.	But	do	not	look	to	return	to	these	lands.

This	is	wolf	country.”

The	bears	turned	to	their	king,	awaiting	his	summons.

“We	 shall	 come	 and	 go	 as	 we	 like,”	 White	 Claw	 said,	 “to	 finish	 what	 these cowardly	wolves	and	coyotes	could	not.	But	first,	let	us	give	our	wolf	queen	here

something	to	remember	us	by.	Attack!	Kill	any	who	stand	in	your	way!”

The	wolves	grouped	up,	assaulting	in	packs,	sinking	in	their	fangs	and	holding

on.	Yet,	a	few	blows	from	the	bears	turned	their	growling	to	whelping.	The	bears

looked	at	their	king.	White	Claw,	still	dripping	blood,	stood	up,	glowering	down

at	 Moon	 Shadow.	 He	 then	 struck	 the	 wolf	 queen	 with	 his	 full	 might,	 knocking her	 senseless.	 The	 bears	 struck	 like	 their	 master,	 leaving	 many	 wolves	 dead	 or lame.	Crimson	Fang	fought	valiantly,	but	even	he	perished	under	the	polar	bear

king’s	mighty	blows.	Other	wolves	and	coyotes	retreated	out	into	the	advancing

storm.

Moon	Shadow	stirred,	swiping	weakly	with	her	paws.	She	pulled	herself	over

some	of	the	broken	bodies	of	her	whimpering	wolves,	protecting	her	own	until

the	end.

White	 Claw	 leaned	 over	 her	 and	 growled	 out,	 “Animus	 is	 mine.	 When	 we return	from	our	campaign,	you	and	your	wolves	had	better	be	gone,	or	we	will

kill	the	last	of	you.	Consider	this	a	command	from	your	rightful	king.”

White	 Claw	 stood	 up	 at	 his	 full	 height,	 growling	 in	 summons	 to	 his	 bears:

“Assemble	 our	 army.	 We	 will	 meet	 with	 the	 rulku	 tonight.	 Once	 we	 subdue them,	we	will	return	them	to	their	cages.”

The	 bears	 growled	 along	 with	 their	 leader.	 Their	 growl	 was	 picked	 up	 by others	until	all	of	 Animus	heard	their	roar.





CHAPTER	25

Yvot-Sing

From	Beijing,	China	To	The	Sea

The	 last	 remaining	 rulku	 of	 Beijing	 coughed	 and	 fell	 upon	 the	 dust	 as	 Yu	 The Golden	Nightmare	marched	victoriously	on	his	conquest	to	the	sea.	The	plague

of	the	nanobots	burned	into	the	 rulku	skins,	leaving	them	with	ashen	bumps	that blistered	on	their	arms,	faces,	and	legs	until	The	Great	 Rulku	Plague	took	the	life from	 them.	 Eagle	 hawks	 circled	 with	 vultures,	 crying	 out	 whenever	 a	 hiding pocket	of	 rulku	hunters	scurried.	Kraits	bit.	Snow	leopards	and	Asian	black	bears moved	in,	mauling	the	survivors	before	delivering	the	killing	bites.

The	Golden	Nightmare	stood	bedecked	in	nanoarmor	of	white-gold	light	that

covered	 his	 giant	 body,	 even	 his	 face,	 except	 for	 his	 nose	 and	 his	 eyes.	 Yu walked	 triumphantly	 upon	 the	 corpses	 of	 the	 last	 of	 the	 rulku	 opposition.

Kneeling	 before	 him	 was	 Hunter	 General	 Zhang,	 a	 trim,	 muscular	 Chinese

fighter	 scarred	 by	 the	 talons	 of	 endless	 enemies.	 She	 spat	 at	 The	 Golden Nightmare’s	feet	in	one	last	act	of	defiance.	Jiao,	outraged,	leaped	at	the	hunter general	for	so	blatant	an	offense.	Her	mighty	tigress	fangs	were	open	and	at	the

ready.	 Just	 as	 suddenly,	 Jiao’s	 orange,	 black,	 and	 white	 body	 went	 unnaturally limp,	like	the	 rulku	 at	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare’s	 feet.	 Zhang’s	 poison	 had	 taken its	toll.	Zhang	threw	the	body	at	the	feet	of	The	Golden	Nightmare.

“Most	 unwise	 beast,”	 Yu	 said.	 “How	 many	 seasons	 have	 you	 fought	 us,	 and what	 do	 you	 bring	 upon	 your	 people	 but	 death?”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 lifted Zhang	 up	 with	 one	 panda	 arm	 and	 looked	 the	 hunter	 general	 in	 the	 eye.	 “And why?”

“Because	humans	have	dignity,”	General	Zhang	said,	spitting	in	the	emperor’s

face.	“We	are	not	creatures	meant	to	be	poisoned	like	rats.”

“Were	we	any	less?”	Yu	asked.

“You’re	beasts!”	Zhang	insisted.

“And	yet	who	is	it	that	spits	at	her	emperor	rather	than	reassuring	her	people?”

Yu	replied.	“The	great	Hunter	General	Zhang,	the	slayer	of	spider	monkeys,	the

terror	of	tigers.”

Zhang	fought	to	free	herself	from	the	panda’s	deathly	clutch.	She	wriggled	for

air.	The	Golden	Nightmare	held	his	paw	firm.

“Not	 so	 great,	 it	 would	 seem,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said.	 “If	 this	 is	 your idea	of	dignity,	then	you	and	your	soldiers	deserve	only	death.”

The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 choked	 Hunter	 General	 Zhang	 for	 all	 to	 see	 before

snapping	 her	 neck.	 He	 tossed	 her	 body	 to	 the	 ground,	 stepping	 on	 the	 fresh cadaver	as	he	made	his	decree.

“This,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 declared,	 “is	 the	 Year	 of	 the	 Panda	 Bear,	 the first	 of	 a	 new	 calendar	 that	 will	 celebrate	 all	 of	 animal	 kind.	 Today,	 with	 the death	of	this	 rulku	general,	I	declare	an	end	to	the	war	in	Asia.	I	thank	all	of	you, from	the	mighty	kraits	to	the	marching	South	China	tigers,	who	have	had	a	hand

in	 shaping	 the	 new	 Animals’	 Republic	 of	 Asia.	 All	 of	 you	 shall	 share	 in	 the treasure	 of	 the	 new	 Yvot-Sing,	 once	 we	 honor	 our	 fallen	 soldiers,”	 The	 Golden Nightmare	said,	briefly	touching	Jiao’s	dead	fur	in	respect.

The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 nodded	 towards	 Paihuai	 Zhe.	 Zhe	 growled	 until	 the

spider	monkeys	tossed	golden	animal	tokens	to	all	the	attendant	animals.

“Whoever	 brings	 this	 token	 of	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 will	 partake	 in	 The

Grand	Feast	in	three	days’	time,	to	celebrate	the	crowning	of	your	new	emperor,”

Yu	declared.

Snow	 leopards	 growled	 and	 bowed.	 Kraits	 hissed.	 Eagles	 cried.	 Yet,	 Yu	 The Golden	 Nightmare	 could	 not	 take	 his	 eyes	 from	 his	 own	 general,	 the	 great leopard	Paihuai	Zhe.	He	stepped	by	her	side,	waving	and	roaring	to	the	people,

then	whispering	to	her,	“Why	aren’t	you	celebrating?	Zhang	is	dead.”

“My	 liege,”	 Paihuai	 Zhe	 said.	 “A	 fleet	 approaches	 from	 the	 lost	 land.	 The phantom	 fleet	 bearing	 Hunter	 General	 Xavian	 returns,	 fully	 armed,	 with

thousands	more	 rulku.”

“So,	 the	 battle	 rages	 on,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 whispered	 back.	 “Contact King	Blu.	Ask	for	his	support.”

“We	 have,	 my	 emperor,”	 Paihuai	 Zhe	 said.	 “King	 Blu	 fails	 to	 respond.	 The river	 dolphins	 have	 moved	 farther	 off.	 Even	 the	 sharks	 are	 no	 longer	 near	 our shores.”

When	the	roar	of	the	crowd	died	down,	The	Golden	Nightmare	declared	to	his

army,	“I	have	just	been	informed	that	we	have	the	first	challenge	to	our	throne.	A band	 of	 rulku	 sails	 our	 way.	 Once	 they	 take	 to	 the	 land,	 drop	 the	 toxins	 upon them.	Let	us	kill	them	as	they	stagger	from	their	ships	and	amass	their	bodies	for eating	in	our	glorious	feast!”

Paihuai	Zhe	growled	for	the	bears,	snakes,	leopards,	tigers,	and	birds	to	form

ranks	 by	 the	 docks.	 “Spread	 yourselves	 between	 the	 ocean	 and	 the	 city.	 Attack only	when	they	are	upon	you.	Seabirds,”	Paihuai	Zhe	declared,	“you	are	the	first

to	drop	the	toxins.”

In	a	sudden	thrust,	a	wave	the	size	of	a	tsunami	pushed	towards	the	heart	of the	ancient	empire.	In	the	main	ship,	Hunter	General	Xavian	called	to	his	men.

“Hovering	mode,”	he	ordered	through	the	nanosphere.	“Look	and	see	your	fallen

brothers,	pock-marked,	left	to	suffer	a	tortuous	death.	For	their	sake,	cry	havoc!

Kill	every	beast	in	your	path!”

Paihuai	Zhe	braced	herself	and	her	snow	leopards.	The	South	China	tigers	and

Asian	 black	 bears	 readied	 themselves,	 as	 did	 the	 kraits.	 Seabirds	 and	 eagle hawks	 flew	 first,	 dropping	 all	 kinds	 of	 toxic	 nanotechnology	 in	 streams	 of	 red and	gold	over	the	hovering	ships	of	silver.	The	toxins	simply	evaporated	in	the

energy-laden	 nanosphere	 that	 surrounded	 the	 ships	 as	 the	 nanobots	 shifted	 into airplanes	and	tanks.

“Roll	 over	 every	 animal	 in	 our	 way.	 Leave	 none	 alive,”	 Lieutenant	 Cyphus called.

“Ready	 the	 laser	 cannons,”	 Hunter	 General	 Xavian	 ordered.	 “Teach	 these

beasts	the	meaning	of	fear.”

The	aerial	crew	fired,	incinerating	the	Asian	black	bears	that	formed	the	first

line	 of	 defense.	 Within	 seconds,	 five	 master	 bears,	 swords	 and	 armor	 in	 hand, stood	 eviscerated,	 the	 smoky	 ash	 of	 their	 vanishing	 bodies	 the	 only	 sign	 that there	was	once	life.	Next,	the	tigers	fell,	growling	and	clawing	at	an	enemy	they

could	 never	 quite	 reach.	 The	 kraits	 slithered	 with	 intent.	 Yet,	 they	 moved	 too slowly	for	the	next	round	of	laser	fire.	Seconds	later,	entire	legions	of	skillfully deployed	snakes	vanished	into	the	ashen	wind.

The	 tanks	 came	 next,	 crunching	 any	 bodies	 that	 didn’t	 incinerate	 at	 once underneath	their	massive	wheels.	Spotting	the	tanks,	Paihuai	Zhe	ordered	for	any

remaining	 leopards	 and	 tigers	 to	 retreat.	 She	 growled	 all	 the	 way	 back,	 as	 The Golden	Nightmare	stood,	sharply	ordering	his	praetorian	guard	of	panda	bears	to

attack.

“My	 emperor,”	 Paihuai	 Zhe	 said,	 “you’re	 not	 safe	 here.	 The	 rulku	 have weapons	 we’ve	 never	 seen.	 They’ll	 be	 in	 the	 heart	 of	 the	 city	 within	 minutes.

You	must	flee!”

Yu	The	Golden	 Nightmare	smacked	the	 snow	leopard	across	 the	face.	“How

dare	you	flee	in	the	face	of	our	greatest	conquest!”	he	yelled.	“Did	Jiao	die	for

nothing?	 We	 will	 overtake	 their	 ships,	 even	 if	 it	 means	 losing	 every	 last	 bear!

Advance!”

The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 led	 the	 bears	 in	 a	 charge,	 sending	 his	 nanobots	 to disable	 the	 sphere	 around	 a	 grounded	 tank.	 With	 one	 thrust	 of	 his	 paw,	 The Golden	 Nightmare	 sent	 the	 nanotoxins	 in.	 The	 soldiers	 clawed	 their	 faces, writhing	 in	 poisoned	 agony.	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 mounted	 the	 tank.	 So

powerful	 was	 his	 touch	 that	 in	 one	 order,	 his	 nanobots	 dismantled	 the	 rulku



weapon.	He	pointed	to	the	neighboring	tanks.	The	Golden	Nightmare’s	stream	of

specialized	nanobots	disabled	their	protective	spheres.	The	panda	guards	did	as

their	master	did.	Soon,	a	small	militia	of	bears	formed	by	the	tanks,	destroying

them.	The	bears	next	attacked	the	advancing	ships	overtaking	Beijing,	grounding

a	 few.	 Still,	 there	 was	 a	 line	 of	 hovering	 tanks	 that	 looked	 directly	 down	 upon them.

“Hello,	 emperor,”	 Lieutenant	 Cyphus	 said.	 “I	 have	 a	 message	 from	 General Zhang.	Would	you	like	to	hear	it?”

Lieutenant	 Cyphus	 let	 out	 a	 loud	 cry.	 The	 cry	 reverberated	 among	 the	 tank commanders	 until	 they	 picked	 up	 the	 cry	 and	 began	 their	 assault.	 The	 Golden Nightmare	 and	 his	 bears	 seized	 their	 nanobot	 spears,	 killing	 a	 few	 ship	 pilots.

Directly	behind	them,	advancing	over	the	emperor	himself,	were	the	master	fleet

and	 their	 commanding	 general,	 Xavian.	 Jumping	 from	 the	 mother	 ships	 were entire	 legions	 of	 Aussie	 fighters,	 some	 half-human,	 half-animal,	 ready	 for	 the fight.

“Your	orders,	sir?”	one	panda	cried	out.

“Full	retreat,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said	under	his	breath.

“Emperor?”	the	panda	asked,	uncertain	of	his	ears.

“You	 heard	 me,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 cried.	 “Head	 to	 the	 shelter	 of	 the mountains.”

Defeated,	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 the	 ruler	 of	 all	 Asia,	 fled	 the	 very	 city where	he	had	received	his	most	majestic	crown.	Lieutenant	Cyphus	was	in	full

pursuit	until	Hunter	General	Xavian	called	through	the	nanosphere,	“Leave	him.

Yu’s	mountain	animals	outnumber	us	ten	to	one.	Secure	the	city	so	The	Golden

Nightmare	 and	 his	 forces	 can’t	 reenter.	 Bury	 the	 dead.	 Make	 this	 place	 look civilized	again.	And	send	out	the	word	with	the	battle	cry	of	freedom:	we	have

dethroned	Asia’s	emperor!”





CHAPTER	26

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California

Methuselah	 summoned	 her	 six	 sisters	 with	 great	 gusts	 of	 smoke	 and	 bursts	 of pollen.	The	message	took	days	and	nights	to	move	from	one	plant	community	to

another,	from	the	cacti	of	the	Southwest	to	the	maple	trees	of	middle	America	to

the	 algae	 of	 the	 farthest	 ocean	 waters.	 But	 always	 the	 message	 was	 the	 same: The	crown	is	in	danger.	The	mobiles	advance. 	Through	the	power	of	the	plant’s nanosphere,	holograms	of	the	seven	sisters	emerged.	One,	Jomon	Sugi,	a	mighty

Cryptomeria	 with	 a	 thick,	 hollow	 trunk,	 stood	 on	 what	 was	 once	 called

Yakushima	Island	in	Japan.	Another,	the	great	King	Clone,	was	a	creosote	bush

colony	 in	 the	 heart	 of	 the	 Mojave	 Desert.	 The	 third	 sister,	 Old	 Tjikko,	 was	 a mighty	Norway	spruce	with	a	single,	thick	trunk	and	a	coat	of	needles	reaching

high	 into	 the	 sky.	 Pando	 was	 the	 fourth	 sister,	 a	 white-trunked	 quaking	 aspen with	roots	reaching	back	millennia	in	North	America.	The	fifth	sister	was	Lama,

a	Tibetan	Cypress,	her	fat	trunk	and	flush	green	foliage	anchoring	her	to	ancient

soil.	 And	 the	 last	 sister	 was	 somewhat	 of	 a	 mystery.	 The	 plants	 called	 her	 The Mystic—part	 coral,	 part	 plant,	 located	 down	 from	 The	 Great	 Barrier	 Reef	 off Australia’s	coasts.

“What	do	you	see,	brilliant	sister?”	Jomon	Sugi	asked.

“Sisters	 and	 Fates,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “For	 millennia	 have	 we	 seen	 these

mobiles	destroying	us	and	our	world,	the	sacred	 Pu-Ya, 	in	our	tongue,	with	their blood	splattered	everywhere	and	their	endless	digging	at	our	roots.	They	poison

the	air	and	the	water.	They	breed	hostility	wherever	they	go.	The	time	to	act	has

come.”

“Yet,	 our	 saplings	 tell	 us	 that	 you	 mentor	 more	 than	 one,”	 Old	 Tjikko	 said.

“Why?”

“My	time	with	you	is	short,	sisters.	In	another	thousand	years,	I	will	be	gone.	I

must	 plant	 a	 new	 seed	 in	 the	 hearts	 of	 the	 mobiles,	 a	 teacher	 who	 shall	 guide them	when	I	cannot.	They	must	learn	the	history	of	what	we	were	so	as	to	build

a	history	of	what	they	might	become.”

“Without	us,	they	are	nothing,”	Pando	said.	“Yet,	they	strike	at	my	roots,	too.

Soon,	like	you,	my	sister,	I	shall	die.	And	I	ask	myself:	what	have	they	done	to earn	our	knowledge?”

“Nurvlyn,	 step	 forward.	 Join	 in	 the	 nanosphere.	 Let	 my	 sisters	 see	 you,”

Methuselah	called.

Nurvlyn,	 part	 animal,	 part	 plant,	 part	 man,	 stood	 forward,	 wrapped	 in	 the vines	of	nature,	with	pointed	ears	and	branch-like	antlers,	yet	still	a	hominid.

“They	evolve,”	Lama	said.	“They	gain	wisdom.”

“Soon,	Nurvlyn	will	join	us,	becoming	my	prophet	and	holy	messenger	to	the

mobiles,	my	sisters,	before	I	once	again	become	All	That	Is.	His	apprentice,	the

other	 mobile,	 has	 already	 started	 his	 journey	 to	 the	 others.	 He	 evolves	 as Nurvlyn	does,	to	be	born	anew.”

“Yet,	the	mobiles	conspire	to	steal	our	crown,”	The	Mystic	said.	“I	see	many:

a	bear,	a	beast	of	unknown	origin,	even	a	snake,	searching	through	our	rocks	and

deserts.	What	shall	we	do	then?”

“I	 have	 spoken	 with	 the	 other	 ancient	 one,	 my	 counterpart	 in	 the	 sea,	 King Blu,”	Methuselah	said.	“He	has	found	a	way	to	speak	our	language.	He	assures

me	that	we	and	our	sisters	and	brothers	have	his	protection,	but	we	must	let	the

crown	go.”

“To	the	oceans?”	The	Mystic	asked.

“No,”	Methuselah	said.	“King	Blu	has	no	need	of	the	crown.	It	is	for	weaker-

minded	mobiles.	His	consciousness	expands	and	will	one	day	join	ours.	He	has

looked	 into	 the	 time	 after	 time,	 and	 he	 sees	 only	 one	 path	 that	 will	 allow	 The Great	 Balance	 of	 the	 natural	 world	 to	 be	 preserved.	 We	 must	 let	 the	 crown choose	among	the	rivals.	Yet,	King	Blu	is	a	beast	with	secrets	upon	secrets.	I	am

here	to	ask	you,	sisters,	if	you	see	the	same.”

The	 sisters	 turned	 to	 the	 oldest	 among	 them,	 The	 Mystic,	 who	 meditated

deeply.	“I	am	contacting	the	Plant	Goddess,	Mother	Earth,	to	see	what	she	sees,”

The	Mystic	decreed.

The	 sister	 plants	 chanted	 in	 union	 before	 The	 Mystic	 said,	 “Thank	 you	 for your	energy,	my	sisters.	The	vision	becomes	clear.	Let	me	place	it	before	you.”

The	 Seven	 Sisters	 and	 Nurvlyn	 beheld	 an	 image	 of	 rivals	 fighting	 over	 The Stone	of	Destiny,	a	glacial	volcano	in	the	Cascade	Range,	Mount	Rainier,	where

Mother	Earth	stood	ready	to	send	her	creative	and	destructive	fires.

“This,”	The	Mystic	said,	“will	be	a	battle	of	the	beasts.	Whoever	Mother	Earth

chooses,	that	mobile	will	be	crowned	there.”

“So	 be	 it,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “Let	 us	 send	 Nurvlyn	 with	 The	 Crown	 Of	 Fire.

Let	 us	 sing	 a	 song	 of	 prophecy	 to	 welcome	 the	 mobiles	 when	 they	 come.

Perhaps,	 if	 they	 attune	 themselves	 to	 nature,	 they	 may	 hear	 our	 warning	 in	 the winds.”



Together,	the	sisters	sang	an	ancient	song:

“Whoever	claims	the	earth	as	their	own	will	lie	beneath	it.	Whoever	wishes	to

rule	 above	 others	 will	 one	 day	 kneel.	 Whoever	 wears	 the	 crown	 will	 be

consumed	by	its	purging	fire.	Through	that	animal,	The	Great	Balance	of	Man,

Animal,	Plant,	and	Sea	will	be	restored.”

Seerus-Ungalore

London,	England

Groth	 The	 Impaler	 stood	 with	 his	 militia	 before	 the	 half-fallen	 Tower	 Of London.	He	marched	before	his	wolves,	wolverines,	eagles,	and	bears,	including

Blood	Scar,	his	top	commander,	up	to	the	captive	 rulku. 	There	they	stood,	their laser	rifles	disarmed,	their	heads	bowed	down,	awaiting	their	fate.

“Do	you	know	the	history	of	this	place	among	the	 rulku?”	Groth	asked	Blood Scar.

“No,	General,”	Blood	Scar	responded.

“And	how	about	the	eagles?	Do	you	know?”	Groth	asked.

“Only	 that	 we	 saw	 rulku	 go	 in	 and	 not	 leave,”	 one	 eagle,	 Red	 Talon, answered.	“Our	ancestors	used	to	tell	us	to	avoid	this	tower	at	all	costs.”

“They	were	right,”	Groth	said.	“To	know	the	enemy	is	to	know	their	history.	It

shows	 how	 they	 became	 what	 they	 are.	 Tell	 us, rulku	 warriors,	 how	 many	 of your	kind	died	in	this	tower?”

Groth	 walked	 over	 to	 the	 line	 of	 men	 who	 kneeled,	 held	 in	 check	 by	 the wolverines,	 wolves,	 and	 bears	 surrounding	 them.	 The	 magnificent	 scale	 of	 the palisade	of	The	White	Tower,	dwarfing	even	the	mightiest	wolverine,	loomed	its

jaded	 shadow	 over	 them.	 Groth	 paced	 and	 added,	 “This	 tower	 was	 built	 by William	 the	 Conqueror,	 one	 of	 the	 greatest	 rulku	 warriors	 in	 prehistory.	 It	 held captives	 and	 prisoners	 of	 royal	 blood,	 even	 Richard	 II.	 Once,	 too	 long	 ago	 to remember,	processions	from	Westminster	Abbey,	as	they	called	it,	crowned	their

kings	and	queens.	Where	are	your	kings	and	queens	now, rulku? 	Where	are	your armories?	 Where	 are	 your	 mighty	 fortifications?	 Now,	 look	 at	 this	 national treasure:	dilapidated	and	falling,	an	uneasy	symbol	of	an	uneasy	time.”

“And	 what	 mighty	 towers	 have	 you	 built?”	 one	 of	 the	 fallen	 hunters	 asked.

“What	have	you	done	but	quest	for	blood,	you	who	would	lecture	us?”

A	wolverine	guard	approached,	swiping	the	man’s	face	with	his	claws.	Fresh wounds	opened	up,	and	fresh	blood	watered	the	soil.

Groth	 held	 up	 his	 paw.	 The	 wolverine	 returned	 to	 the	 ranks,	 standing	 at attention.	“You	have	a	will	to	fight,”	Groth	said.	“I	admire	that	in	one	so	beaten.

You,	 I	 know.	 I’ve	 seen	 you	 fighting	 in	 the	 fields	 of	 battle	 before.”	 Groth	 stood face	to	face	with	the	fallen	man,	examining	his	multifaceted	scars.	“I	gave	you

that	 scar	 and	 that	 one,”	 he	 said,	 dragging	 a	 claw	 along	 the	 man’s	 face.	 “It’s Hunter	 General	 Fvoris,	 isn’t	 it?	 So,	 you	 came	 to	 this,	 your	 people’s	 last	 stand.

You	would	have	made	a	fine	wolverine.	It’s	a	pity	you’re	human.”

Fvoris	took	what	little	energy	he	had	to	spit	on	Groth.	The	wolverine	bared	his

teeth,	battering	the	man’s	skull	with	his	paws,	until	lacerations	wove	themselves

around	every	ounce	of	Fvoris’	face.

“Still	on	the	losing	end	of	battle,”	Groth	said	in	observation.	“Perhaps	you’ve

heard	my	nickname	or	seen	my	handiwork.	Have	you	ever	heard	the	tale,	maybe

in	 your	 off	 hours	 away	 from	 the	 battlefront,	 of	 Little	 Dracula?	 Of	 the	 Impaler who	 kills	 men’s	 souls?”	 Groth	 leaned	 in,	 promising,	 “Know	 that	 I	 shall	 impale you	and	all	of	your	men	on	stakes	that	rise	so	high	they	rival	The	White	Tower.

Poetic	justice,	isn’t	it,	given	how	many	lost	their	lives	in	your	once	great	Tower Of	London,	as	you	call	these	ruins?”

Hunter	General	Fvoris	was	barely	conscious.	He	looked	up	through	the	blood

and	dirt	that	stained	his	face	and	said,	“If	you	do	so,	you	light	a	fire	today	that will	serve	as	a	guiding	sun	for	generations	to	come.”

Groth	 the	 Impaler	 laughed.	 “A	 bold	 claim,”	 he	 said.	 “Famous	 last	 words,	 I suppose.	A	time-honored	tradition	among	your	kind	before	you	meet	death,	is	it

not?”	Groth	leaned	in	again	and	said,	“The	trouble	is	this:	for	famous	last	words

to	endure	the	ages,	someone	still	has	to	be	alive	to	hear	them.”

Groth	 turned	 to	 Blood	 Scar	 and	 raised	 his	 paw.	 “Impale	 every	 last	 one,”	 he ordered,	“starting	with	their	leader.	This	little	revolution	is	over,	just	like	the	fire that	your	blood	will	smother.	I	will	make	certain	that	you	live	long	enough	to	see it	die.”

Just	then,	a	flight	of	crows	emerged.	Ravens,	kites,	and	crows	joined	in,	until

swirling	at	the	height	of	The	Tower	was	The	All-Seeing	Night	Eye.

“General	Groth,”	The	Night	Eye	said.

Groth	bowed	his	head,	as	did	Blood	Scar	and	the	assembled	armies.

“What	is	it,	queen	of	all	animals?”	Groth	asked.

“Our	 spies	 have	 news	 of	 forces	 crossing	 the	 Thames,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said, half	in	chorus,	half	in	cackle.

“They	wouldn’t	dare,”	Groth	replied.

“Thousands	 of	 forces,	 some	 civilians,	 with	 sticks	 of	 thunder	 and	 marching

steel	beasts.”

“What?	I	thought	King	Blu	rendered	their	steel	beasts	useless.”

“A	rogue	 rulku—a	former	prisoner—found	a	way	to	undo	the	magic	of	King

Blu,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Form	your	troops.	Make	sure	they	hold	the	city.”

“And	what	of	the	captives?”	Groth	asked.

“Leave	them	to	us,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Go	now.	Protect	The	Tower	at	all

costs.”

“Yes,	my	kings	and	queens,”	Groth	said.	“Form	the	battalions,”	the	wolverine

general	ordered	his	animals.	“Let	none	get	through	the	city.	Forward	march!”

Groth	 and	 Blood	 Scar	 led	 the	 army	 forward	 as	 swiftly	 as	 the	 bears,	 wolves, and	wolverines	could	move.

“Drop	the	toxins	first,”	Groth	ordered	the	eagles	overhead.	“Let	them	squirm

as	they	approach.”

Fvoris	and	the	other	fallen	men	and	women	gazed	up	at	The	Night	Eye.	“Do

you	have	the	gall	to	beg	mercy	from	me	after	what	you’ve	done	to	my	world?”

The	Night	Eye	asked.

The	ravens,	kites,	crows,	and	blackbirds	shrieked	like	banshees.	Their	brother

and	 sister	 birds	 rose	 from	 trees	 and	 grasses,	 blotting	 out	 the	 light	 of	 the	 sky.

Swiftly,	 the	 flock	 descended,	 pecking	 at	 eyes,	 lips,	 knuckles,	 at	 any	 exposed skin.

“Hold	 firm,”	 Fvoris	 ordered.	 “Cover	 up.	 Just	 a	 little	 while	 longer.	 Stay strong!”

The	 fallen	 hunters	 covered	 what	 they	 could	 with	 their	 manacled	 hands	 and feet,	 bracing	 themselves	 for	 pecks,	 claws,	 and	 assaults	 that	 could	 tear	 the	 flesh from	 their	 bones.	 Moments	 later,	 a	 massive	 explosion	 engulfed	 The	 White

Tower.	Old	sacks	of	gunpowder	detonated	with	the	flammable	manuscripts	and

records	 from	 ancient	 days.	 The	 Tower	 became	 a	 wall	 of	 flame,	 even	 to	 its brattices,	which	lit	up	like	misshapen	golden	torches.

Looking	 on,	 Fvoris	 said,	 “The	 little	 bugger	 forgot	 about	 that	 part	 of	 history, didn’t	he?	Rise.	Remember	our	mission.	Assassinate	The	Night	Eye!”

In	the	moment	of	shock	that	slowed	the	attacking	ravens,	Fvoris	led	his	men

and	 women	 into	 The	 Tower,	 into	 the	 inferno	 itself.	 Planted	 laser	 guns,	 bows, arrows,	 and	 quivers	 lined	 the	 inner	 walls.	 Fvoris	 and	 his	 militia	 grabbed	 what they	 could	 and	 headed	 out.	 The	 fire	 flushed	 outwards,	 swallowing	 some	 of	 the attacking	ravens.	Before	the	shock	and	shrieks	subsided,	Fvoris	and	his	soldiers

targeted	the	many	crows,	ravens,	and	kites	swarming	above	The	Tower.

“Fire	at	will,”	Fvoris	ordered.	“Kill	as	many	of	The	Night	Eye	as	you	can!”

Ravens	 of	 The	 Night	 Eye	 swirled	 in	 massive	 circles,	 dodging	 the	 shots	 and arrows	 as	 long	 as	 they	 could.	 Yet,	 the	 fire	 burned	 them	 from	 one	 direction,



upsetting	the	harmonious	undulations	of	The	Night	Eye.	Fvoris	and	his	soldiers,

bloody	 as	 they	 were,	 shot	 at	 the	 unburnt	 crows	 and	 ravens,	 killing	 ten,	 then twenty,	 of	 the	 majestic	 birds.	 The	 Night	 Eye	 flew	 for	 their	 lives,	 fleeing	 The Tower.

“Keep	 firing,”	 Fvoris	 ordered.	 “The	 Night	 Eye	 still	 lives!”	 Three	 more	 kites fell,	and	then	The	Night	Eye	was	out	of	range.

Fvoris	 pointed	 out	 the	 returning	 legions	 and	 said,	 “Turn	 your	 fire.	 Wipe	 out that	power-hungry	wolverine	and	anything	that	crawls!”

At	this	point,	Groth	saw	his	army	hemmed	in	on	two	sides.	Fvoris	and	his	men

took	 out	 the	 flanking	 bears	 and	 wolves.	 Bears	 fell	 to	 the	 massive	 fire.	 Wolves were	the	first	to	run.

“Hold	the	lines,”	Blood	Scar	yelled.	“Cowards!”

Groth	the	Impaler	made	his	way	through	the	fire	to	Blood	Scar.	Groth	grabbed

his	 arm.	 “We’re	 losing	 too	 many,”	 the	 general	 said.	 He	 pointed	 at	 the	 first	 two wolverine	 divisions.	 “They	 are	 as	 skillful	 as	 any	 creature	 on	 Earth	 in	 single combat.	But	look	at	those	steel	beasts.	They	mow	them	down.”

“What	are	your	orders,	sir?”	Blood	Scar	asked.

“Flee	the	city.	Follow	and	protect	the	kings	and	queens,”	Groth	said.	“We	will

deal	with	these	revolutionaries	later.”

Fvoris	and	his	men	kept	the	assault	up	on	one	side	while	the	militia	from	the

North	 kept	 up	 the	 attack	 on	 the	 other.	 Still,	 Groth,	 Blood	 Scar,	 and	 their	 top legionnaires	made	it	past	the	Thames,	to	the	outskirts	of	the	city	and	beyond.

Before	night	fell,	Fvoris	said,	“Send	this	through	the	nanosphere.	Let	Hunter

General	Xavian	know	that	we	are,	at	last,	worthy	of	joining	his	great	company.”





CHAPTER	27

Klang	Uktor

Congo,	Africa

Zulta	stood	with	a	crown	of	human	bone	upon	his	head,	tattoos	of	the	crescent

moon,	sun,	and	stars	upon	his	body,	the	heralded	king	greeting	his	subjects.	His

herd	 formed	 a	 protective	 circle	 around	 his	 throne	 bed,	 a	 small,	 forested compartment	 of	 stone	 with	 an	 assortment	 of	 barks,	 leafy	 stalks,	 twigs,	 and	 a water	hole.	Next	to	the	royal	elephant	herd	were	two	guard	lions,	Rya	and	Zhi;

and	Gray	Eyes,	the	boa,	who	served	as	both	king’s	adviser	and	seer.	The	lions,

without	 Kama;	 Slash	 and	 his	 panthers;	 even	 Earl	 The	 Equivocator	 and	 his parrots	 also	 lay	 in	 attendance.	 Gorillas	 stood	 at	 the	 entrances.	 Zulta	 blasted	 his command	with	his	trunk.	The	gorillas	guided	the	two	fighters,	Yorba	and	Hunter

General	Uzwali,	to	an	enclosure	of	expansive	marula	trees	whose	leafy	branches

were	woven	together.

“Look	high,	brother,	when	your	time	of	need	comes,”	one	gorilla	whispered	to

Yorba.

Zulta	 blasted	 another	 greeting	 with	 his	 mighty	 trunk.	 The	 royal	 herd	 joined him	before	he	turned	to	the	nanobots	to	speak	in	 Osine. 	 “Greetings,	 masters	 of the	jungles	and	of	the	African	plains.	I	stand	before	you	as	I	have	long	stood,	as your	king.	Long	have	I	decided	which	pride	of	lions	is	to	rule	and	which	family

of	 monkeys	 is	 in	 the	 right	 and	 in	 the	 wrong.	 Yet,	 there	 is	 one	 among	 you,	 the mighty	 general	 Yorba,	 who	 seeks	 to	 rule.	 The	 ape	 king	 insists	 that	 his	 blood makes	our	lands	safe.	And	so,	we	have	issued	a	challenge.	I	have	spoken	to	the

rulku	 warrior	 myself.	 If	 Yorba	 can	 deal	 with	 one	 clever	 rulku	 warrior,	 their general	and	queen,	Uzwali,	better	than	me,	disposing	of	her,	we	shall	give	him

the	freedom	to	rule	his	apes	as	he	sees	fit.	However,	if	the	wily	Uzwali	finds	a

way	to	survive	or	kill	the	great	gorilla	king,	then	the	apes	will	subject	themselves again	to	the	wisdom	of	the	elephants.”

Zulta	 took	 a	 breath	 before	 adding,	 “That	 being	 said,	 we	 cannot	 in	 good conscience	let	so	great	a	leader	as	Yorba	die	unheralded,	away	from	battle.	Nor

can	 we	 risk	 losing	 so	 valuable	 a	 captive	 as	 Uzwali,	 who	 may	 help	 us	 broker peace	with	the	 rulku.	Thus,	it	is	my	kingly	decree	that	this	need	not	be	a	fight	to

the	death.	If	either	Uzwali	or	Yorba	submit	to	their	opponent,	the	battle	will	be over.”

The	 apes	 pounded	 their	 chests	 and	 the	 surrounding	 tree	 trunks	 in	 approval.

“Keep	the	fighting	to	the	webbed	tree	cage,”	Zulta	ordered.	“Leave	the	circling

nanoswarms	be,	as	they	shall	translate	your	sounds	and	actions	to	the	crowd,	in

the	 interest	 of	 a	 fair	 fight.	 Kama,	 the	 esteemed	 lion	 king,	 will	 arbitrate	 this match.	Kama	will	be	there	only	to	declare	a	winner.	Kama’s	ruling	shall	stand	as

the	final	say	in	the	matter.	Do	the	combatants	have	any	questions?”

Yorba	shook	his	head,	declaring	 no	in	 Osine. 	 Uzwali,	 speaking	 Swahili,	 said no	as	well,	which	the	nanobots	translated	into	 Osine.

“Do	the	combatants	understand	the	rules	and	agree	to	the	terms?”	Zulta	asked.

Yes, 	each	said,	relying	on	nanotechnology	to	trumpet	their	answers	in	 Osine	 to the	crowd.

“Then,	at	Kama’s	command,	you	may	begin.	May	the	best	beast	win!”	Zulta

said,	trumpeting	to	the	crowd	one	last	time.

Yorba	pounded	his	chest	while	Uzwali	crouched,	until	the	giant,	unending	hiss

of	Kama,	translated	as	 Fight, 	took	to	the	nanosphere.

Immediately,	Yorba	reached	for	Uzwali,	seeking	to	break	her	in	two.	Uzwali,

adroit	 as	 she	 was,	 climbed	 the	 webbed	 trees,	 hiding	 in	 their	 foliage.	 Yorba growled,	 calling	 for	 her	 to	 show	 herself.	 The	 nanobots	 caught	 his	 words	 and translated	to	the	crowd.	Yorba	climbed	and	grabbed	at	the	branches,	dismantling

them.	The	pictures	of	Uzwali	from	the	nanosphere	were	still	a	cloud	of	kinetic

confusion.	Bits	of	yellow	energy	orbs	obscured	the	picture.	Yorba	pulled	a	key

branch.	Uzwali	dropped.	When	Uzwali	fell,	she	clearly	brandished	a	long,	many-

bladed	 spear	 in	 her	 hands.	 Yorba	 charged,	 but	 the	 spear	 fended	 him	 off.	 Yorba grabbed	the	serrated	edges	of	the	spear,	only	to	cut	open	his	fingers.

“A	 rulku	weapon,”	Yorba	called	to	the	crowd.

Lions	 and	 tigers	 hissed.	 Apes	 called	 out	 violently.	 The	 elephants	 trumpeted their	approval,	cheering	loudly	to	cover	the	jeers.

One	 of	 Zulta’s	 herd,	 his	 daughter,	 Yanta,	 asked,	 “Why	 is	 the	 fight	 not	 fair, Father?”

“In	the	jungle,	all	is	fair,”	Zulta	said.	“You	must	learn	this	when	it	is	your	time to	rule.”

Unthinkably,	Uzwali	gained	the	upper	hand	against	the	mountain	gorilla.	She

used	the	spear	with	dexterity,	cutting	Yorba’s	sides	before	he	could	retreat	to	the cage	 trunks.	 The	 apes	 hollered	 too	 loudly	 to	 be	 ignored	 as	 their	 leader’s	 blood spilled	onto	the	jungle	soil.	At	that	moment,	the	words	of	the	gorilla	guard	came

back	 to	 Yorba.	 He	 climbed	 up,	 searching	 through	 the	 foliage.	 Again,	 the nanobots	could	only	project	images	of	marula	leaves	and	bits	of	yellow	energy



orbs.	When	Yorba	fell,	he	held	a	 rulku	laser	pistol	in	his	hand.

“Let’s	see	how	you	like	your	 rulku	magic	now,”	he	yelled.

The	nanosphere	caught	his	words,	translating	them	to	the	crowd.	The	gathered

animals	 cheered	 almost	 in	 unison.	 Apes	 in	 attendance	 chanted	 loudly,	 giving their	strength	to	their	king.

Yorba	 played	 with	 the	 device,	 figuring	 out	 how	 to	 fire	 it,	 as	 Uzwali	 pressed her	blade	ever	closer	to	his	neck.	Yorba	dodged	until	finally,	he	let	the	pistol	fit his	 ape	 fingers	 like	 a	 glove.	 He	 pressed	 the	 trigger,	 striking	 Uzwali	 in	 the shoulder.	Uzwali	fell,	dropping	her	weapon.	Yorba	advanced.	The	ape	king	took

hold	of	the	spear	and	broke	it	in	three.	His	blood	still	matted	the	ground.	Uzwali jumped	 back	 up,	 retreating	 towards	 the	 cage	 trunks.	 Before	 she	 could	 climb, Yorba	shot	a	knee	and	then	an	elbow.	The	burns	danced	upon	her	skin	as	Uzwali

fell	 again.	 Yorba	 advanced	 once	 more.	 Uzwali	 looked	 up	 to	 see	 a	 giant	 gorilla holding	the	pistol	that	might	very	well	end	her	life.

“Why	do	you	not	submit?”	Yorba	asked.	“What	trickery	is	this?”

Zulta	signaled	for	the	nanosphere	feed	to	be	shut	down.	Kama	came	forward

and	hissed, It	is	not	over.	She	has	not	submitted.

That	was	the	last	the	audience	heard.

Yorba	 felt	 himself	 growing	 weak.	 He	 looked	 down	 at	 the	 lion	 king.	 “Even you,	mighty	hunter,	betray	me	with	a	lie?”	he	asked.

Kama	said,	“In	the	jungle,	it	is	the	smart	who	survive,	not	the	foolish	or	the

battle-happy.”

Yorba	pointed	his	gun,	readying	his	final	shot.

“Wait,	King	Yorba,”	Uzwali	pleaded.	“I	am	sorry	to	fight	without	honor,	but	I

must	protect	my	people	from	your	rule.	Zulta	spoke	with	me	first.	He	planted	a

spear	 that	 one	 of	 our	 conquered	 rulku	 armies	 carried.	 He	 laced	 its	 blades	 with poison.	You	were	dead	from	the	moment	you	first	touched	the	spear.	Zulta	fixed

it	with	me	so	that	my	people	might	not	be	rendered	extinct.	We	were	both	dead

from	the	moment	we	entered	this	cage.	I’m	sorry.	I	did	what	I	had	to	do	for	my

people	 to	 survive.	 At	 least	 now,	 I	 can	 die	 with	 an	 iota	 of	 honor,	 however miniscule	that	honor	may	be.”

Yorba	 shook	 his	 head,	 calling	 out,	 “It’s	 fixed.	 Zulta	 lies!”	 His	 own	 nanobots helped	 translate	 to	 those	 of	 the	 other	 animals	 until	 they	 understood.	 With	 that, King	Yorba	shot	Uzwali	fatally,	collapsing	to	the	ground	himself.

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

There	was	a	land, Finkulki, 	that	wolves	had	whispered	about	for	eons	before	the word	found	its	way	into	the	 Osine	language.	It	was	a	veritable	hunting	ground,	a paradise,	where	the	ancestors	of	the	wolves,	the	wild	wolves	of	the	plains,	would

invite	the	best	hunters	for	one	last	hunt	before	the	dying	wolves	joined	with	All

That	 Is.	 Before	 Moon	 Shadow	 was	 captured,	 before	 the	 rulku	 forced	 her	 into fights	 with	 wild	 dogs	 for	 their	 coin,	 she	 had	 a	 memory	 as	 a	 pup.	 She remembered	 her	 father,	 Wind	 Stalker,	 dripping	 blood	 when	 he	 returned	 from hunting	rabbits	owned	by	the	 rulku. 	The	humans	had	shot	him,	and	he	was	in	his last	 moments.	 His	 mighty	 fangs	 opened	 gently,	 as	 his	 yellow	 eyes	 rolled	 in	 his head	 to	 look	 at	 his	 darling	 pup.	 Wind	 Stalker	 told	 Moon	 Shadow	 not	 to	 weep, that	death	was	always	just	the	beginning	of	the	last	great	hunt.	He	spoke	of	what

he	saw,	wolf	packs,	free	of	 rulku, 	running	along	fields	flushed	with	hares.	Wind Stalker	 said	 that	 he	 was	 on	 his	 way	 to	 the	 last	 grand	 feast	 in	 the	 land	 no	 wolf may	ever	return	from.	With	that,	Wind	Stalker	died.	Moon	Shadow	now	sensed

the	 embracing	 light	 of	 the	 same	 soft	 fields	 holding	 her	 as	 she	 recovered	 from White	Claw’s	mighty	blows.

As	she	drifted	in	and	out	from	her	vision	of	the	last	great	hunt,	Moon	Shadow

heard	indecipherable	noises.

“Is	everyone	all	right?”	she	asked,	unable	to	get	up	or	look	around	at	the	other

wolves	who	came	to	her	aid.

“Rest	now,”	she	heard	a	familiar	voice	say.	It	was	high,	nasally,	full	of	a	lot	of

“s”	 sounds.	 Without	 raising	 her	 head,	 Moon	 Shadow	 knew	 that	 this	 was	 the voice	of	Sky	Death.

“Come	 to	 pick	 the	 bones?”	 Moon	 Shadow	 asked.	 “A	 bit	 early,	 aren’t	 you?”

“Can	 you	 dare	 ask	 that	 of	 me	 when	 I	 was	 there	 to	 guide	 you	 to	 the	 first	 great meeting	 of	 Animus?”	 Sky	 Death	 asked.	 “Tell	 us:	 What	 happened?	 White	 Claw and	his	celebration	of	polar	bears	have	marched	off	without	saying	a	word.”

“We	fought,	viciously,	over	the	fate	of	the	 rulku, ”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“I	saw a	sign	from	Snow	Prophet:	a	vision	of	my	mate,	Sun	Shadow,	from	the	land	no

wolf	 returns	 from.	 Only,	 Sun	 Shadow	 did	 return.	 I	 thought	 it	 was	 a	 sign	 to	 let this	pack	of	 rulku	go.”

“It	 was	 a	 sign,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said,	 flapping	 his	 considerable	 wings	 to	 let Moon	 Shadow	 know	 of	 his	 presence.	 “Soon,	 I	 must	 fly	 again	 to	 warn	 White Claw,	if	I	am	not	too	late.	The	 rulku	are	leading	him	into	a	trap.	They	are	hungry and	 are	 not	 particular	 about	 their	 food.	 Why	 will	 you	 beasts	 not	 listen	 to	 the wisdom	of	Mother	Earth?	She	speaks	to	me,	and	I	warned	you	that	nothing	good

would	 come	 of	 this	 battle	 with	 this	 particular	 band	 of	 rulku. 	 To	 be	 a	 prophet

whose	 darkest	 visions	 come	 true	 because	 no	 one	 will	 listen—that	 may	 be	 the worst	fate	of	all.”

“But	Sun	Shadow,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“He	seemed	so	real.	He	spoke	to	me.”

“He	appeared	from	the	 Finkulki, ”	Snow	Prophet	said.	“Because	his	love	was stronger	than	death.	Mother	Earth	allowed	him	to	give	you	strength,	for	this,	the

time	ahead.	He	is	with	you	always.	Only	you	cannot	see	him.”

“I	have	so	much	I	would	say	to	him,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“I	would	apologize

for	losing	our	pups.”

“You	may	yet	see	Sun	Shadow	before	the	end	of	your	days,	should	you	stop

talking	and	let	Sky	Vulture	treat	your	wounds,”	Snow	Prophet	said.

“How	many…,”	Moon	Shadow	started	to	ask	again,	but	she	lost	the	strength.

“Too	many,”	Snow	Prophet	said.	“Three	wolves	died.	Young	hunters.	Spring

Warrior,	Rock	Spirit,	and	Blood	Eye	are	all	dead.	The	great	coyote	king	Crimson

Fang	and	several	of	his	coyotes	are	also	dead.	You	senior	soldiers	recover,	as	do

you.”

“Tell	them	I’m	sorry,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

“They	 rest,	 as	 should	 you,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said.	 “Let	 Sky	 Death	 help	 you.

Sleep.	I	shall	return	only	when	the	great	owl	gods	allow	it.	Right	now,	your	own

spirit	animals	wish	to	speak	to	you.”

A	giant	swooping	of	wings	scooping	up	the	air	fell	upon	Moon	Shadow’s	fur

like	 the	 breath	 of	 God.	 With	 that,	 she	 fell	 to	 sleep	 once	 more.	 She	 saw	 Sun Shadow	 again,	 standing	 in	 the	 distance.	 He	 stood	 by	 a	 Shadow	 Monster	 that threw	everything	into	its	great,	protruding	mouth. You	must	stand	strong	for	what is	Ozu	if	animal	kind	is	to	survive, 	his	voice	said . 	Moon	Shadow	saw	the 	 Shadow Monster’s	face	transform	in	the	light	from	White	Claw’s	to	Azaz’s.	Then	Moon

Shadow	saw	fire	devouring	the	land,	consuming	the	Shadow	Monster	until	there

was	a	land	that	bloomed	again.	She	saw	herself	running	again,	this	time	as	the

undisputed	leader	of	the	animals	of	The	Great	White	North.

“Is	it	possible	without	you,	my	love?”	Moon	Shadow	asked	the	spirit	animal.

“All	 is	 possible	 when	 you	 choose	 life	 over	 death,”	 Sun	 Shadow	 said.	 “Be careful.	 The	 Fire	 Wolf,	 the	 hunter	 of	 souls,	 stalks	 you	 now.	 Yet,	 I	 will	 protect you	from	him	as	long	as	I	can.	Until	it	is	time	for	all	three	of	us	to	hunt	again	as a	pack.”

“I	long	for	that	time,”	Moon	Shadow	said.

“Long	for	life	first,”	Sun	Shadow	answered.	“You	have	so	much	living	to	do

first,	mother	of	my	pups.”

At	 those	 words,	 Moon	 Shadow	 fell	 into	 a	 fresh,	 healing	 sleep.	 Sky	 Death dressed	her	wounds.



Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

No	 animal	 could	 say	 when	 the	 monoliths	 first	 appeared	 on	 land	 or	 where	 they came	from.	Songbirds	like	blue	jays	and	magpies	were	the	first	to	report	it	to	the bears	 that	 served	 as	 sentries	 of	 the	 woods.	 Squirrels	 climbed	 up	 and	 down	 the stone	structures,	with	hardly	a	clue.	Natural	philosophers	like	the	elder	ravens	of the	Appalachian	woods	flew	in,	along	with	barn	owls,	to	speculate	on	what	the

monolith	was.	They	concluded	that	it	was	the	magic	of	the	 rulku,	similar	to	the monolith	they	found	in	the	former	Washington,	D.C.	Still,	the	monoliths	emitted

no	laser	pulses.	Like	those	of	the	sea,	they	stood	fashioned	of	solid	rock,	with	no hint	of	incendiaries	inside.	Entire	herds	of	buffalo	or	clans	of	grizzly	bears	could not	move	a	single	one.

Ultimately,	 the	 animals	 of	 Animus	 called	 upon	 their	 seer,	 Snow	 Prophet,	 for some	clue	as	to	the	purpose	of	the	strange	monoliths.

“We	 have	 reports	 of	 these	 monoliths	 all	 throughout	 the	 northern	 continent,”

Thunder	Killer	said.	“Some	reports	come	to	us	from	as	far	away	as	Europe,	Asia,

and	Africa.	Our	ravens	tell	us	it’s	the	work	of	the	 rulku. 	Yet,	the	monoliths	never do	anything	but	sit	there.	We	would	like	to	consult	the	ancestors	of	the	birds	in

the	sky.	What	do	you	make	of	them,	wise	oracle?”

Snow	Prophet	flapped	his	wings	and	said,	“I	cannot	tell	you	everything.	The

great	bird	gods	of	the	sky	forbid	me	to	do	so.	Besides,	I	must	warn	White	Claw.”

“Can	you	tell	us	nothing	before	you	go?”	Thunder	Killer	asked.

Snow	 Prophet	 closed	 his	 eyes,	 adding	 that	 “What	 I	 know	 is	 that	 this	 is	 a peace-keeping	weapon	unlike	anything	this	earth	has	seen.	It	comes	not	from	the

rulku	 but	 from	 King	 Blu.	 The	 rulku	 no	 longer	 have	 the	 power	 to	 perform	 such magic.”

The	 magpies	 instantly	 fell	 to	 chattering,	 along	 with	 the	 jays	 and	 the	 other songbirds.	Mice	squeaked,	and	squirrels	whined.	Each	animal	seemed	to	have	a

theory	that	needed	to	be	shared	at	the	exact	same	moment.

“Silence,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said,	 flapping	 his	 mighty	 eagle	 wings.	 “Let	 Snow Prophet	finish.	We	must	know	what	must	be	done	to	stop	this	weapon.”

In	 a	 trance,	 Snow	 Prophet	 paced	 and	 flapped	 his	 white-crested	 wing	 tips, saying:	 “Nothing,	 king	 of	 the	 eagles.	 There	 is	 nothing	 that	 we	 can	 do	 against such	power	as	this.	The	monoliths	are	held	in	place	by	a	nanotechnology	unlike



anything	we’ve	seen	before,	tiny	bots	that	extend	over	the	earth	and	the	sea,	with one	mission:	protect	these	structures	at	all	costs.	Their	orders	come	directly	from King	Blu.”

“Maybe	it’s	not	a	weapon,”	Pale	Ghost	said.	“Maybe	it’s	there	to	protect	us.”

“The	 ways	 of	 King	 Blu	 are	 beyond	 our	 knowing,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said.	 “My

advice	to	you,	King	Eagle,	and	to	all	land	animals,	is	to	keep	in	King	Blu’s	good

graces.	 Reach	 out	 to	 him.	 Seek	 his	 permission	 before	 transgressing	 his	 ocean.

Show	respect	for	all	creatures	of	the	sea.	This	will	put	us	a	notch	above	the	killer rulku, 	who	plundered	and	polluted	his	waters	without	remorse.”

“Thank	 you,	 Master	 Oracle,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said.	 “We	 will	 honor	 any

restrictions	King	Blu	places	upon	his	waters.”

“Wise	 choice,	 King	 Eagle,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said,	 flying	 off.	 “Maybe	 there	 is some	hope	for	 Animus	after	all.”





CHAPTER	28

Pols	Dedans

Near	the	Ocean

Nunavut,	Canada

The	 nanobots	 finished	 replicating	 energy	 houses	 against	 the	 snow.	 Most

resembled	tiny	igloos	up	against	a	great	Nordic	longhouse	as	if	in	the	 rulku	Age of	 Exploration.	 Still,	 Brigand	 looked	 contentedly	 upon	 the	 new	 structures	 and the	 energy	 field	 that	 protected	 them.	 At	 last,	 there	 might	 be	 some	 shelter	 from the	blizzard	and	the	endless	cold.

Scanning	 the	 horizon,	 one	 of	 Brigand’s	 survivors,	 Ruth	 the	 Lawless,	 called out,	“There’s	a	man	coming	in	with	the	snow.	At	least,	I	think	it’s	a	man.	It	could be	a	beast.”

“Our	scouts	found	bear	tracks	in	the	distance,”	Brigand	said.	“Get	your	laser

rifles	and	prepare	yourselves.	A	fight	may	be	walking	our	way.”

Brigand,	 Ruth,	 and	 a	 host	 of	 rugged	 and	 emaciated	 survivors	 crouched,

holding	whatever	rifle,	stone,	or	blade	was	within	immediate	reach.	Slowly,	the

black	 shadow	 against	 the	 snow	 grew	 larger,	 but	 no	 less	 strange.	 It	 formed	 into what	looked	like	a	haggard	combination	of	vines,	a	coat	of	animal	fur,	muscle,

and	man.

“What	is	it?”	Ruth	asked.

Brigand	squinted.	He	looked	again,	to	be	sure.	“Don’t	shoot,”	he	said.	“This

man	was	one	of	my	best	hunters.	He	led	us	here.”

Silence	settled	in	with	the	matting	snow.

“Rigel	Fowler,”	Brigand	called	out.	“Is	that	you?	In	the	flesh?	I	thought	you

were	a	ghost.	I	was	sure	you	were	dead!”

“I	was,”	Fowler	said.

His	 voice	 had	 an	 otherworldly	 quality	 to	 it.	 Nature	 adorned	 his	 garb	 in	 the form	of	all	kinds	of	colorful	vines,	thick	twigs,	and	snaking	branches.

“Are	you	okay?”	Brigand	asked.

“I	am	reborn,”	Fowler	said.	“I	have	journeyed	far	to	the	West	for	the	counsel

of	the	greatest	oracle	on	land.	A	vision	came	to	me.	I	have	seen	this	war	and	our

place	in	it.	That	is	why	I	have	returned.”

Brigand	kept	quiet.	He	studied	the	eyes	of	the	man.	It	was	Fowler,	all	right.

Yet,	he	talked	nothing	like	the	soldier	of	old.

“I	 think	 the	 cold	 is	 affecting	 your	 senses,”	 Brigand	 said.	 “Come	 into	 our longhouse,	out	of	the	cold.	Tell	us	what	you	must	say	once	you	have	rested.	A

blizzard	can	try	a	man	like	no	other	storm.”

Fowler	 stood	 by	 Brigand.	 The	 man-plant-beast	 still	 had	 an	 imposing	 figure, that	of	a	hunter,	stocky,	yet	resilient	in	its	carefully	packed	muscles	and	sloping haunches.	Yet,	the	plants	and	garb	looked	more	like	that	of	a	witch	doctor	than

that	of	a	warrior.

“There	 isn’t	 time,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “A	 celebration	 of	 polar	 bears	 marches	 upon you,	led	by	the	fearsome	White	Claw.	The	Polar	Bear	King	sees	you	as	a	threat

to	his	territory	and	means	to	finish	what	the	wolf	queen	would	not	do.	He	means

to	slaughter	you	and	put	your	people	back	in	his	sanctuary.	White	Claw	plans	to

kill	any	survivors	who	refuse	to	comply	with	his	orders.”

“But	why?”	Brigand	asked.	“We	left	him	in	peace.”

“Don’t	 you	 remember	 how	 you	 first	 approached	 him,	 armed	 in	 ships,	 ready for	war?”	Fowler	asked.	“The	Polar	Bear	King	remembers.	He	means	to	kill	you

and	put	an	end	to	the	War	in	the	North.”

“In	a	blizzard?”	Brigand	asked.	“Even	a	polar	bear	won’t	get	far.”

“He	 and	 his	 militia	 will	 be	 here	 before	 nightfall,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “It	 took everything	I	had	to	keep	ahead	of	them.”

Brigand	 studied	 the	 medicine	 man	 carefully.	 Fowler	 was	 leaner.	 He	 had	 the look	of	a	runner	after	a	marathon	had	worn	away	his	knees	and	ankles.

“You	know	something,”	Brigand	said.	“We	wouldn’t	survive	this	without	you.

That’s	why	you’re	here,	isn’t	it?”

Fowler	 shook	 his	 head.	 “White	 Claw	 is	 only	 half	 the	 threat.	 Condors	 and hawks	have	told	Azaz	The	Grizzly	King	of	your	escape.	He	sends	a	legion	of	his

finest	warriors	to	eradicate	you.	Do	exactly	as	I	say,	and	you	may	live.”

Brigand,	 Ruth,	 and	 the	 militia	 of	 nearly	 one-hundred	 men,	 women,	 and

children	looked	at	one	another.	Brigand	nodded.

“I	saw	you	gathering	weapons	as	I	approached.	Bring	me	what	laser	weapons

you	have,”	Fowler	said.	“You	won’t	need	them.”

“What?”	Ruth	asked.	“I	think	you’ve	been	out	in	the	cold	too	long.”

“I	don’t	have	time	to	explain	every	part	of	my	plan	to	you,”	Fowler	said.	“Any

weapons	 you	 have	 with	 bullets	 you	 can	 keep.	 Any	 blades	 or	 spears	 would	 be helpful	 as	 a	 last	 resort.	 As	 for	 your	 nanobot-powered	 weapons	 you	 took	 from Animus,	 they	 won’t	 work	 for	 you.	 In	 fact,	 that’s	 how	 White	 Claw	 tracked	 you.

That,”	 Fowler	 said,	 reaching	 around	 and	 pulling	 off	 a	 tiny	 microchip	 in Brigand’s	hair,	“and	this,	planted	by	the	king	of	the	eagles.”

Brigand	took	the	chip	and	crushed	it.	“Do	as	he	says,”	Brigand	ordered	some of	his	foot	hunters.	“Get	the	weapons.	Now.”

Brigand’s	 men	 hurried	 through	 the	 igloo	 structures,	 gathering	 any	 nano-bot-charged	weapons	as	quickly	as	the	snow	would	allow.	They	brought	the	weapons

to	Fowler.

“Place	the	laser	weapons	before	me,”	Fowler	ordered.

Brigand’s	foot	soldiers	did	so.	They	stepped	back.

“Find	 your	 remaining	 guns	 and	 blades	 and	 arm	 yourselves,”	 Fowler	 said.

“King	White	Claw	and	his	soldiers	will	be	here	within	moments.	Right	now,	they

stalk	behind	the	snowbanks,	avoiding	detection	as	they	inch	closer.	They	mean

for	this	to	be	a	slaughter.”

“Get	everyone	a	gun	and	a	blade,”	Brigand	ordered.

The	 snow	 buried	 Fowler’s	 long	 bangs.	 Still,	 he	 sat	 in	 a	 perfect	 meditative circle.

“Form	two	militias,”	Fowler	advised.	“Azaz’s	grizzlies	move	against	you	from

the	south	while	White	Claw	approaches	from	the	east.”

“Move.	 Now,”	 Brigand	 ordered.	 “Seek	 cover.	 Don’t	 make	 it	 too	 easy	 for

them.”

Fowler	looked	at	Brigand.	“Where’s	the	hope,	Hunter	General?”	he	asked.

“Lost	in	these	blizzard	winds,”	Brigand	muttered.

“There	is	always	hope,	even	in	the	strongest	of	storms,”	Fowler	said.

“Hope	often	arrives	too	late	for	my	liking,”	Brigand	said.	“I	believe	in	this,”

he	said,	holding	up	his	rifle.

By	this	time,	the	heaving,	frozen	breaths	of	the	approaching	polar	bears	were

audible.	Even	the	rampant	plowing	of	their	paws	against	the	snow	sounded	slow,

measured,	 methodical.	 Brigand	 signaled	 his	 hunters	 to	 brace	 themselves.	 The bears	 saw	 the	 lines.	 A	 loud,	 guttural	 growl,	 deeper	 and	 more	 resonant	 than	 the rest,	broke	out.

“They’ve	detected	us.	Charge—before	they	can	fully	assemble,”	White	Claw

ordered	his	bears.

“But	 my	 king,”	 a	 small	 polar	 bear,	 Tiny	 Paw,	 barely	 older	 than	 a	 cub,	 said.

“Snow	Prophet	circles	overhead.	It’s	an	omen!”

“Move	 quickly!”	 White	 Claw	 said.	 “No	 owl	 prophecies	 can	 save	 the	 rulku now!”

The	polar	bears	became	a	mass	of	white	and	black	against	the	hardening	snow.

They	moved	like	a	rounded	battering	ram	towards	the	human	encampment.	The

snow	still	fell	in	ropy	sheets	of	white.	The	bears	overtook	the	snow,	grounding	it into	pulp	as	they	maneuvered	closer.

Just	 then,	 Fowler	 used	 his	 magic	 to	 revitalize	 the	 nanobots	 from	 the	 old,

disabled	 weapons.	 They	 reworked	 the	 frigid	 metals	 into	 a	 circular	 amplifier within	moments.	The	great	circle	was	hollow	at	the	center,	holding	a	tremendous

energetic	flame.	The	fiery	ball	of	light	grew	into	a	bigger	sphere,	cracking	with

bits	of	lightning	that	veered	in	all	directions.

Seeing	the	mini	sun,	the	bears	hurried	their	pace,	as	if	the	element	of	a	sudden

attack	were	still	their	best	bet.	Fowler,	talking	to	the	nanobots	through	his	mind, ordered	 the	 amplifier	 to	 send	 out	 its	 energy	 currents.	 Suddenly,	 thick	 waves	 of lightning	pulsed	towards	the	bears,	knocking	the	entire	first	legion	to	the	ground in	a	scattered	array	of	ten	to	twelve	bolts.	Tiny	Paw’s	body	was	among	the	dead.

“To	the	flanks,”	White	Claw	ordered.	“Avoid	the	wizard	and	his	 rulku	magic!”

The	infantry	of	bears	quickly	formed	small	lines	stretching	out	further.	They

attacked	 hunters	 from	 the	 sides.	 Screams	 from	 men	 being	 mauled—their	 faces, arms,	and	legs	being	torn	and	dispatched	to	the	white	earth	below—haunted	the

snowy	 sky.	 Using	 what	 energy	 he	 had	 left,	 Fowler	 telecommunicated	 with	 the nanobots.	He	redirected	the	amplifier	to	send	short,	consistent	bursts	towards	the lines.	Several	bears	fell,	dead,	in	the	middle	of	their	assaults.

“Prepare	yourselves,”	Fowler	called	to	the	militia.	“White	Claw	ascends.”	The

massive	white	boulder	of	a	head	and	its	black-tipped	snout	appeared	above	the

snowbanks.	 White	 Claw	 withstood	 one	 bolt	 of	 electricity	 and	 called	 out	 to	 any retreating	bears,	“Hold	strong,	brothers	and	sisters!	The	 rulku	weapon	can	only send	out	isolated	blasts	every	so	often.	Head	for	the	center.	Quickly!”	Legions	of polar	 bears	 flooded	 towards	 the	 center.	 Some	 dove	 for	 Fowler,	 but	 the	 electric shield	surrounding	Fowler	and	the	amplifier	were	too	much.	The	bears	fell	dead,

piling	 up	 at	 the	 entrance	 of	 the	 camp.	 Other	 bear	 soldiers	 went	 to	 the	 sides.

Bullets	peppered	the	snow,	as	did	random	bursts	of	blood	once	the	bullets	found

their	targets.	Some	hunters	fought	woman-to-bear,	ending	the	battle	with	a	few

well-placed	 thrusts	 of	 their	 serrated	 spears.	 Others	 fell	 to	 the	 mighty	 swiping paws,	crushed	underneath	a	mauling	assault.

Just	then,	a	loud	growl	came	from	the	south.	Another	legion	of	fresh	grizzly

bears,	black	bears,	and	brown	bears,	headed	by	Vronkyl,	Azaz’s	greatest	general,

ran	at	a	full	trot.	Even	in	the	snow,	their	ranks	and	formations	were	greater	than those	of	the	northern	armies.	They	also	had	more	warriors,	including	the	dreaded

Blood	 Paw,	 the	 most	 elite	 of	 their	 warriors,	 the	 very	 ones	 who	 gave	 Azaz	 his personal	guards.

Fowler	 redirected	 a	 massive	 energy	 current	 to	 Vronkyl’s	 legions.	 The	 bears were	 more	 regimented,	 more	 closely	 compacted.	 The	 blast	 spread	 them	 farther out.	 Fowler	 didn’t	 hesitate.	 He	 sent	 two	 more	 blasts	 their	 way,	 knocking	 down and	killing	as	many	of	The	Blood	Paw	as	he	could	before	he	looked	up.	Fowler

saw	the	bloody	fangs	of	White	Claw,	pushing	with	all	his	armed	might	through

the	energy	shield	protecting	the	wizard.

“Only	one	 rulku	 could	 have	 devised	 this,”	 White	 Claw	 said	 in	 Osine.	 “I	 can smell	 him	 on	 you.	 So,	 Nurvlyn	 betrays	 us.	 It’s	 exactly	 as	 we	 feared.	 Well, strange	wizard.	You	will	die	in	his	place.”

Fowler’s	 eyes	 emitted	 a	 green	 glow.	 This	 time,	 plants	 that	 the	 snow	 should have	killed	emerged,	with	giant,	thorny	vines,	from	the	icy	depths	of	soil.

“We	weren’t	the	ones	hiding,	polar	bear	king,”	Fowler	said.	“They	were.”

The	 plants	 emerged	 in	 whiplike	 vines	 and	 massive	 thorns,	 wrapping	 around White	Claw’s	legs	and	front	paws.	The	massive	king	of	the	polar	bears,	armored

as	 he	 was,	 was	 no	 match.	 He	 wielded	 his	 mace	 with	 fury,	 but	 to	 no	 avail.	 The vines	became	as	thick	as	branches,	holding	him	in	place.

Fowler	arose,	taking	out	a	golden,	serrated	spear.	It	held	bits	of	fur	from	each

of	 his	 earlier	 conquests.	 Fowler	 cut	 a	 patch	 of	 fur	 from	 around	 White	 Claw’s heart.	He	pinned	it	to	the	spear	and	then,	turning	around,	in	one	graceful	thrust, stabbed	 White	 Claw	 in	 the	 belly,	 head,	 and	 heart.	 The	 bear	 toppled	 down, writhing	in	the	endless	snow.	The	thirty	or	so	bears	left	in	White	Claw’s	legion

came	running	away	from	the	 rulku,	to	his	defense.

“Protect	the	king,”	one	young	warrior,	Olsu,	called	out.	“The	king	has	fallen!”

Fowler	 held	 his	 spear	 high,	 preparing	 for	 the	 killing	 blow.	 Yet,	 he	 felt	 the wisdom	of	Methuselah	flow	through	him.	The	ice	vines	weakened,	dropping	the

king’s	body.

“Now	is	not	your	time,”	Fowler	said	to	White	Claw.	“You	must	learn	how	to

be	a	true	king	first,	my	brother.”

“Brothers?	Only	if	I	am	the	Cain	to	your	Able,	as	your	ancient	legend	says.”

The	 flickering	 light	 in	 White	 Claw’s	 eyes	 betrayed	 his	 confusion	 as	 the	 polar bears	growled	at	Fowler	and	dragged	the	king	away.

Fowler	turned	his	attention	to	the	next	matter	at	hand,	Vronkyl	and	his	legion

of	penetrating	grizzly	bears.	Vronkyl	had	formed	three	guerilla	militias	smattered across	 the	 snowbanks.	 The	 bears’	 nanotechnology,	 which	 they	 were	 still	 just learning	 to	 master,	 formed	 white	 camouflage	 against	 the	 blizzard.	 The	 bears waited	 until	 Fowler’s	 amplifier	 waned	 in	 energy	 for	 a	 moment	 and	 then	 sent small	 contingency	 troops	 in.	 Brigand’s	 fighters	 grew	 tired	 and	 frozen	 in	 the snow.	 The	 bears	 started	 mauling	 the	 defenses	 of	 the	 makeshift	 settlement.

Fowler,	 wearied	 from	 battle,	 managed	 to	 re-strategize.	 He	 used	 the	 weapon	 to fire	 at	 rocks	 and	 snowy	 boulders,	 building	 up	 the	 walls	 separating	 Vronkyl’s troops	from	the	lines.	Fowler	then	spoke	with	the	nanobots,	activating	protective

shields	around	the	mauled	men,	a	task	that	took	enormous	energy	from	him.

“Kill	the	wizard,”	 Stone	Mauler,	a	 black	bear	Blood	 Paw	lieutenant,	ordered

three	of	his	bears.

The	Blood	Paw	marched	forward.	The	red,	bloody	tattoo	clearly	aligning	the snouts	 of	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 created	 a	 second	 form	 of	 camouflage,	 matching	 the bear	 and	 human	 blood	 lining	 the	 snow	 drifts.	 Fowler	 concentrated.	 Lightning from	the	amplifier	struck	The	Blood	Paw	bears	dead.	Stone	Mauler,	angling	for	a

good	attack	strategy,	hid	behind	a	snowbank	once	the	lightning	struck.

“He’s	too	powerful,”	a	brown	bear	soldier	said.	“The	 rulku	magic	is	alive	and well.”

“This	is	no	 rulku	magic,”	Stone	Mauler	said.

Fowler	bent	down,	praying	to	the	earth.	In	a	moment,	Stone	Mauler	received

his	 confirmation.	 Snows	 reformed,	 shifting	 in	 giant	 white	 winds,	 until	 they became	a	giant	icy	oak	with	endless	vines.	Vines	swirled	around	the	ice	oak	like

serpents.	The	bears,	unaccustomed	to	such	magic,	stood	perfectly	still.

“Don’t	just	stand	there,”	Vronkyl	ordered.	“Attack!”

No	sooner	than	the	battle	growl	came	from	the	great	grizzly’s	mouth	than	the

serpentine	 ice	 vines	 stabbed	 their	 way	 through	 the	 bears.	 The	 towering	 vines lifted	even	the	mightiest	grizzlies	until	the	whole	apparition	became	a	giant	Tree of	Woe.	Dying	bears	cried	out	their	last	as	their	impaled	bodies	became	dank	and

limp.	Vronkyl	looked	around.	His	bears	aimed	to	gnaw	through	the	ice.	The	Tree

of	 Woe	 just	 froze	 the	 bears’	 jaws	 and	 then	 stabbed	 them	 through	 with	 another vine.	Seeing	this,	the	remaining	grizzlies,	black	bears,	and	brown	bears	looked	at Stone	Mauler.	Stone	Mauler,	in	turn,	looked	at	Vronkyl.

“We	 lose	 too	 many	 bears,	 my	 lord,”	 Stone	 Mauler	 said.	 “What	 are	 your

orders?”

Vronkyl	pictured	Azaz’s	face	the	moment	he	would	tell	him	of	the	loss.	Yet,

he	saw	the	bears	before	him	and	the	futility	of	their	fight.	Perhaps	he	could	again curry	favor	by	assisting	their	master	with	the	crown.

“Retreat,”	 Vronkyl	 said.	 “Head	 for	 the	 mountains.	 I	 will	 follow—after	 I	 kill the	wizard.”

“Yes,	 my	 lord,”	 Stone	 Mauler	 said.	 He	 rose	 to	 his	 limbs,	 emitting	 a	 giant growl	amplified	by	his	nanobots.	The	cry	resonated,	shaking	the	camp.

The	free	bears	fought	the	descending	snow,	running	as	quickly	and	agilely	as

they	could	through	the	blanketing	blizzard.	Within	moments,	the	snow	obscured

their	 view.	 Fowler	 called	 upon	 the	 men	 to	 check	 the	 fallen.	 Fowler	 got	 up, circling	around,	only	to	see	the	third	largest	bear,	after	Azaz	and	White	Claw,	he had	ever	seen,	staring	him	down.

The	Tree	of	Woe	reached	for	the	grizzly	commander,	but	Vronkyl	grabbed	the

vines	and	snapped	them.	Bears	fell	down,	some	with	a	few	breaths	and	drops	of

blood	still	left	in	their	cascading	bodies.

“It’s	just	you	and	me,	wizard,”	Vronkyl	said	in	 Osine. 	“I	know	that	you	speak



the	common	tongue.	I	remember	what	you	did	to	my	king.	Now,	you	will	wear

the	same	scars.”

Vronkyl’s	metal-plated	paw	struck	Fowler,	crashing	through	the	energy	shield

that	 was	 the	 wizard’s	 greatest	 aid.	 Fowler	 fell	 into	 the	 snow,	 and	 the	 mauling began.	The	bear	general	slashed	at	Fowler’s	neck	and	face	before	Fowler’s	eyes

again	grew	yellow.	Lightning	filled	them.	Vronkyl	stood	in	shock	for	a	moment.

Then,	 before	 Vronkyl	 could	 land	 a	 killing	 blow,	 his	 nanobots	 radiated	 little bursts	of	lightning,	 as	if	short	 circuiting.	The	nanobots	 reached	for	themselves, seeking	to	preserve	the	bond	that	held	Vronkyl’s	armor	secure.	In	seeking	to	save

their	 own	 lives,	 the	 nanobots	 lost	 concern	 for	 their	 host.	 The	 electrical	 shocks and	shrinking	armor	knocked	Vronkyl	to	the	snow.	With	as	much	natural	power

as	his	paws	could	muster,	Vronkyl	cast	off	the	armor	that	bound	him.

“A	scar	for	a	scar,”	Fowler	said,	swiping	his	snout	with	a	blade.

Vronkyl	growled,	but	without	his	armor	or	his	defenses,	he	knew	death	when

he	 saw	 it.	 The	 grizzly	 general	 turned	 and	 ran	 after	 the	 other	 bears,	 towards	 the mountains,	without	his	armor.

“Are	 you	 okay?”	 Brigand	 asked	 Fowler.	 He	 extended	 his	 arm,	 helping	 his

former	hunter	buddy	from	the	snow.

“I	 am	 alive,”	 Fowler	 said,	 “if	 that	 answers	 your	 question.	 I	 must	 bind	 my wounds	with	natural	herbs.	First,	let	your	hunters	build	up	this	amplifier	to	form a	 protective	 shield	 around	 the	 camp.	 The	 plants	 will	 grow	 to	 make	 you

undetectable	to	the	bears’	mountain	strongholds.”

“I	will	give	you	my	best	men	and	women	for	the	task,”	Brigand	said.

“And	 I	 will	 send	 out	 a	 message:	 we	 are	 the	 first	 party	 to	 successfully	 repel both	the	forces	of	 Animus	and	those	of	Azaz.	Let	the	bears’	shame	echo	through the	nanosphere.	Let	other	surviving	humans	see	that	there	is	hope.”





CHAPTER	29

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California

Hulkul	 waited	 at	 the	 appointed	 precipice,	 sitting	 like	 a	 sentry	 against	 time	 and the	 wind.	 He	 saw	 nothing.	 There	 was	 no	 sign	 of	 this	 dragon	 beast,	 this	 Adar Llwch	Gwin,	anywhere	in	the	sparsely	vegetated	rock	of	the	desert.	He	couldn’t

understand	 why	 his	 master	 would	 call	 him	 here.	 Yet,	 Azaz’s	 orders	 were	 clear.

The	 flying	 abomination	 headed	 this	 way.	 The	 crown	 must	 be	 near,	 even	 if	 the warmth	of	its	regal	flame	was	not	yet	felt.	Another	giant	grizzly,	Shamul,	stood

sentry	on	the	other	end	of	the	dead	rock	formations.	Hulkul	had	to	be	quick.	He

asked	his	nanobots	to	contact	another	nanosphere,	letting	them	put	lenses	on	his

eyes	so	that	no	one	else	could	see	who	was	on	the	other	end	of	his	transmission.

Hulkul	mentioned	the	code	in	a	dull	whisper,	too	soft	to	be	carried	by	the	fickle

desert	winds.

“What	is	it?”	several	ravens	of	The	Night	Eye	asked	at	once.

“We’re	 here,”	 Hulkul	 said.	 “I	 am	 reporting	 as	 ordered.	 I	 stand	 sentry.	 Azaz eats	now,	preparing	for	the	great	fight.”

“Adar	Llwch	Gwin	is	very	near,”	The	Night	Eye	said	in	chorus.	“He	will	do

most	of	the	work.	You	need	only	deliver	the	poison	the	birds	gave	you	to	Azaz.

We	see	many	things.	If	your	master	ascends	to	the	throne,	untold	bloodshed	will

befall	the	world.	His	death	is	most	important.”

“My	 kingdom	 is	 most	 important,”	 Hulkul	 said.	 “You	 can	 rule	 over	 whatever you	like,	but	I	shall	ascend	to	become	king	of	the	bears.	You	shall	leave	me	be.

That	was	the	deal.”

“We	 remember,	 and	 we	 agree	 to	 your	 terms,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said.	 “Don’t

worry.	We	shall	reward	you	with	the	North	American	territory.	A	special	palace

in	The	Rockies	will	bear	your	name.”

“I	should	hope	so,”	Hulkul	said.	“I’m	putting	myself	at	considerable	risk	here.

No	bear	has	ever	defeated	Azaz	in	battle.”

“All	the	more	reason	for	you	to	become	a	legend,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Adar

Llwch	 Gwin’s	 orders	 are	 explicit.	 You	 are	 to	 be	 given	 the	 final	 blow.	 For millennia,	bears	will	sing	of	you	as	the	great	father	bear	who	saved	them	from

misfortune.	Now	go.	Deliver	the	poison.”

“It’s	too	early,”	Hulkul	argued.	“Azaz	will	get	suspicious.”

The	 Night	 Eye	 cackled	 until	 it	 became	 something	 of	 a	 laugh.	 “Adar	 Llwch Gwin	is	already	there,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Feel	the	wind	currents	upon	your

fur.”

Hulkul	felt	the	undulating	currents	and	replied,	“I	will	do	as	you	say.”

The	 transmission	 ended.	 Hulkul	 ordered	 his	 nanobots	 to	 form	 armor	 around him,	 to	 prepare	 for	 battle.	 He	 went	 to	 a	 small	 pool	 of	 fresh	 rainwater	 and dropped	 the	 poison	 in.	 Nanotoxins	 held	 upon	 the	 surface	 like	 fidgeting	 water skeeters	before	trickling	beneath.	The	deed	done,	Hulkul	climbed	down	the	rock

formations	to	the	main	camp,	nearly	half	a	mile	away.	The	most	massive	grizzly

bear	 Man	 had	 ever	 seen	 sat	 as	 a	 hulking	 mass,	 devouring	 rulku	 flesh.	 His chewing,	 ripping	 sinew	 from	 flesh,	 drowned	 out	 even	 the	 flapping	 sound	 that kept	growing	louder	with	each	flicker	of	the	sun.

“My	 king	 of	 kings,”	 Hulkul	 called.	 “It’s	 time.	 The	 great	 dragon	 bird

approaches.”

“Always	when	the	eating	is	at	its	best,”	Azaz	said.

The	great	bear	king	rose,	taking	a	few	last	bites.	He	ordered	his	nanobots	to

adorn	him	with	the	best	metal	armor	they	might	muster.	Some	formed	the	great

scourge	 of	 Azaz.	 Azaz	 put	 the	 protective	 energy	 shield	 around	 them	 to	 its	 full strength.

“We	attack	together,”	Azaz	said.	“Mine	will	be	the	first	blow.”

“Understood,	my	lord,”	Hulkul	said.

Azaz	held	Hulkul’s	eyes	for	a	moment.	Hulkul	wondered	if	Azaz	knew	of	the

betrayal,	 if	 he	 were	 looking	 into	 the	 heart	 of	 the	 bear,	 through	 his	 animal	 soul.

Azaz	simply	said,	“Today	is	not	my	day	to	die.	Make	sure	it’s	not	yours.”

Hulkul	nodded.	He	gulped.	“Shall	I	summon	Shamul?”

Azaz	nodded.

Hulkul	 let	 out	 a	 fierce,	 guttural	 growl,	 shaking	 the	 sands	 before	 him.	 He expected	 to	 see	 his	 fellow	 sentry	 run	 to	 his	 side.	 Instead,	 Hulkul	 felt	 the thunderous	 winds	 biting	 into	 his	 fur.	 As	 Azaz	 and	 Hulkul	 ascended,	 Hulkul watched	 Azaz	 approach	 the	 poisoned	 puddle.	 Azaz	 passed	 it	 by.	 Hulkul

panicked.	His	master	always	had	a	drink	before	battle.	But	the	nearness	of	Adar

Llwch	 Gwin	 set	 every	 bear	 on	 edge.	 Hulkul	 wondered	 if	 his	 plan	 to	 usurp	 the throne	was	already	over.	Still,	the	water	glowed	after	Azaz	passed.	Hulkul	saw

the	 sparks	 of	 a	 few	 of	 the	 nanobots	 in	 Azaz’s	 armor.	 The	 poison	 was	 not	 for Azaz,	 Hulkul	 realized,	 but	 for	 his	 armor.	 A	 settled	 feeling	 fell	 upon	 the treacherous	bear	as	he	saw	himself	sitting	on	the	grand	throne.	Hulkul	wondered

if	The	Night	Eye	truly	could	see	the	future.	He	wondered	if	they	saw	him	taking

The	Crown	Of	Fire	for	himself,	as	he	fully	intended	to	do	once	Azaz	was	out	of the	 way.	 Hulkul	 imagined	 himself	 ordering	 the	 slaughter	 of	 every	 raven	 and crow	to	make	sure	none	might	usurp	his	power.

Just	then,	reality	awoke	Hulkul	from	his	reveries.	The	wind	grew	unbearably

strong.	He	could	feel	electricity	dancing	in	the	wind	currents.	Moments	later,	the largest	 land	 creature	 he	 had	 ever	 seen,	 perhaps	 as	 big	 as	 King	 Zulta,	 the	 great African	 elephant,	 if	 not	 bigger	 still,	 landed	 only	 a	 yard	 away	 from	 them.	 The creature’s	massive	wings	consisted	of	endless	rows	of	metal	talons	that	served	as

spears.	Lightning	shot	through	the	wind	every	time	the	massive	creature	flapped

its	 enormous	 wings.	 The	 spreading	 of	 the	 gargantuan	 wings	 alone	 blocked	 out the	 sunlight	 from	 above.	 At	 the	 moment	 the	 wings	 contracted,	 Hulkul	 saw	 the reason	for	Shamul’s	silence.	The	massive	she-bear	was	dead,	her	head	feet	away

from	 the	 rest	 of	 her	 massive	 body.	 Shamul’s	 blood	 spilled	 starkly	 against	 the thirsty	white	sands.

Azaz	took	in	the	sight.	He	ascended	to	his	limbs,	to	full	height,	at	least	eight

feet	tall.	Though	Azaz	was	one	of	the	largest	beasts	Hulkul	had	ever	seen,	even

he	looked	small	compared	to	the	monstrosity	in	front	of	him.

“I	thought	dragons	were	just	a	 rulku	myth,”	Hulkul	said.

“Stay	 focused,”	 Azaz	 said	 to	 Hulkul.	 He	 turned	 to	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 and

roared,	 “You’re	 no	 dragon	 and	 no	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,	 are	 you?	 You’re	 just	 an eagle	in	monster’s	armor.	And	you	will	die	miserably.	I	will	think	of	Raldaw	and

Shamul	when	I	crush	your	head	and	beak	beneath	my	hind	paw.”

“Azaz,	I	presume,”	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	said.	“This	is	one	kill	I’ve	been	looking

forward	to.”

Azaz	 growled	 from	 his	 belly	 with	 anger	 and	 intent.	 The	 great	 bear	 readied himself,	 standing	 at	 full	 height	 with	 his	 scourge	 and	 armor	 ready	 to	 go.	 Adar Llwch	Gwin	flapped	his	wings.	Electrical	currents	flew	at	Azaz	and	Hulkul,	but

both	bears	blocked	them	with	their	energetic	shields.	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	opened

his	 beak.	 Steady,	 serrated	 currents	 of	 fire	 flowed	 forth.	 Azaz	 braced	 himself, falling	to	a	knee.	The	fire	struck	Hulkul,	who	fell	back.	The	nanosphere	put	out

the	 flames.	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 then	 unloosed	 his	 metallic	 feathers,	 sending currents	of	them	at	Azaz	and	Hulkul.	Azaz	conjured	a	shield	with	his	nanobots

and	 protected	 himself	 from	 the	 blows	 that	 could	 inexplicably	 penetrate	 his armor.

Stepping	back,	Azaz	realized	the	reason	why.	His	armor	was	malfunctioning.

The	 nanobots	 electrified	 but	 then	 short-circuited.	 Azaz	 called	 to	 Hulkul,	 “Step forward.	Use	your	armor.	Mine	is	of	no	use.	I	will	attack	when	we	get	closer.”

Hulkul	 stood	 unresponsive	 for	 a	 moment.	 He	 watched	 as	 Azaz’s	 nanobots

retreated	 from	 the	 king’s	 body.	 Azaz’s	 armor	 fell	 as	 the	 nanobots	 returned	 to

their	 original	 form	 in	 a	 desperate	 act	 of	 self-preservation.	 Hulkul	 ran	 towards Azaz	 with	 a	 nanorobotic	 mace	 of	 his	 own.	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 approached,

sending	a	fresh	volley	of	serrated	feather	spears	Azaz’s	way.	The	spears	cut	into

Azaz,	who	now	stood	in	his	natural	form.	Even	Azaz’s	mace	fell	away.

The	moment	Hulkul	approached,	Azaz	saw	the	fury	in	the	bear’s	eyes.	Azaz

braced	himself	for	Hulkul’s	blow.

“Too	 long	 have	 I	 stood	 in	 your	 shadow,”	 Hulkul	 said,	 wielding	 his	 mace.

“And	why?	I	will	be	the	king	you	never	could	be.”

Hulkul	 struck	 Azaz	 repeatedly.	 Azaz	 bloodied	 and	 fell	 just	 as	 Adar	 Llwch Gwin	 approached.	 The	 creature	 shot	 further	 spears	 at	 point	 blank	 range.	 Azaz wore	 an	 armor	 of	 spears	 embedded	 in	 his	 bloody	 fur	 and	 skin	 as	 Adar	 Llwch Gwin	 took	 hold	 of	 the	 grizzly	 god	 by	 the	 neck.	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 went	 to	 lift Azaz,	but	the	giant	grizzly	was	too	heavy	and	still	too	powerful.	Hulkul	struck

Azaz	 with	 his	 mace,	 which	 Azaz	 caught.	 Azaz	 wrapped	 the	 metal	 of	 the	 mace deep	 into	 Hulkul’s	 throat.	 Azaz	 repositioned	 Hulkul	 to	 use	 the	 bear	 as	 a	 shield against	the	volleys	of	Adar	Llwch	Gwin.	Hulkul	struggled	against	his	master,	but

the	 larger	 bear’s	 strength	 was	 too	 much.	 Within	 moments,	 Hulkul	 was

unconscious.

“Even	 my	 brother	 betrays	 me,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “What	 is	 the	 matter,	 Adar	 Llwch Gwin?	 Afraid	 you	 cannot	 kill	 me	 on	 your	 own?	 To	 be	 a	 king,	 one	 must	 kill	 a king.	Let’s	see	how	well	you	do	now.”

The	giant	creature	flew	towards	Azaz,	unleashing	as	many	of	its	spears	as	it

could.	Azaz	used	Hulkul’s	body	as	a	shield.	Through	 Osine, 	Azaz	used	Hulkul’s code	 and	 connected	 with	 the	 nanobots	 armoring	 Hulkul.	 Seeing	 one	 host	 dead, the	 nanobots	 quickly	 turned	 to	 the	 other.	 They	 surrounded	 Azaz’s	 body,

removing	 the	 spears	 while	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 sent	 more	 Azaz’s	 way.	 Hulkul’s armor	became	Azaz’s,	as	did	his	mace.

Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin	 approached.	 Before	 Azaz	 could	 fight	 the	 great	 lizard	 bird off,	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	picked	the	great	grizzly	king	up	and	threw	him	against	the

desert	rock.	Azaz	regained	his	footing.	He	shook	his	head.	Never	before	had	the

great	grizzly	king	ever	been	manhandled	in	such	a	way.	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	came

and	threw	Azaz	two	more	times	before	the	bird	dragon	looked	at	the	tip	of	his

wings.	They	were	more	than	sharp	enough	to	cut	the	grizzly	king’s	throat.	Azaz

felt	his	consciousness	wavering,	yet	he	knew	that	this	was	to	be	the	battle	of	his life.	The	inglorious	bear	god	also	knew	that	Hulkul’s	power	to	disable	his	king’s

armor	 came	 from	 somewhere.	 Azaz	 looked	 around,	 seeing	 the	 glittering	 metal gliding	along	the	surface	of	a	nearby	pool.	Azaz	grabbed	his	fallen	armor.

He	 fought	 his	 way	 to	 the	 pool.	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,	 lumbering	 along	 like	 a massive	 thunder	 bird	 of	 old,	 followed.	 The	 beast’s	 very	 steps	 made	 the	 earth

beneath	its	talons	quake.

Within	seconds,	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	put	its	talons	upon	Azaz’s	neck,	readying

for	 the	 final	 blow.	 Azaz	 put	 his	 armor	 on	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,	 dragging	 the monstrosity	 over	 the	 contaminated	 pool.	 The	 nanobots	 gliding	 there	 acted

quickly,	flying	after	Azaz’s	nanobots.	Azaz’s	nanobots	crawled	into	the	armored

body	 of	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,	 and	 the	 assassin	 nanobots	 followed.	 Adar	 Llwch Gwin	went	to	slice	Azaz’s	throat	but	found	that	it	couldn’t	move	its	arms.	The

dragon	bird	went	to	unleash	all	the	remaining	feather	spears	it	had,	but	it	could

not	command	the	metallic	body	to	comply.	Instead,	the	eagle	piloting	the	great

mythical	beast	sat	trapped	as	Azaz	pounded	and	stomped	the	body	of	the	flying

beast	to	ruin.	At	last,	Azaz	came	upon	the	head	of	the	animal,	where	the	eagle	in

command	sat.	Azaz	pried	open	the	plastic	and	metal	holding	the	eagle	inside	and

grabbed	the	eagle	by	its	neck.	Just	as	Azaz	was	about	to	kill	the	eagle	with	one

twist	of	its	neck,	Hulkul	got	to	his	feet.	Hulkul	shook	his	head,	fighting	to	regain full	 consciousness,	 but	 the	 image	 in	 front	 of	 him	 was	 enough	 to	 stir	 him	 to attack.	Hulkul	tackled	Azaz	with	every	last	ounce	of	power,	and	the	eagle	flew

off,	seeking	out	a	bristlecone	pine	among	the	patches.

“I	made	you	strong.	You	betray	me	and	your	own	kind—and	for	what?”	Azaz

asked,	as	the	two	bears	wrestled.

“The	crown,”	Hulkul	said,	struggling	against	his	master.	“Always,	the	crown.”

The	reference	to	The	Mystical	Crown	Of	Fire	stirred	something	in	Azaz.	The

grizzly	 king	 regained	 his	 footing.	 His	 forepaws	 dug	 into	 Hulkul’s	 neck.	 With Hulkul’s	 armor	 now	 his	 own,	 Azaz	 quickly	 reached	 and	 strangled	 Hulkul.	 The lesser	 bear,	 without	 his	 nanobot	 enhancements,	 could	 not	 fight	 his	 master	 on equal	ground.	Azaz	quickly	broke	Hulkul’s	neck	and	tossed	the	massive	grizzly

traitor	to	the	desert	sands	to	die.

“The	crown	is	mine	and	mine	alone,”	Azaz	said.	“For	always,	I	am	Azaz,	king

of	kings!”

The	 grizzly	 king	 let	 up	 a	 great,	 bloody	 roar	 that	 shook	 the	 leaves	 of	 the bristlecone	 pines	 in	 the	 distance.	 Bloodied	 as	 he	 was,	 Azaz	 raced	 towards	 the eagle.	The	wounded	eagle	lifted	off	but	not	before	Azaz	grabbed	its	bloody	leg.

The	eagle	pecked	and	clawed	with	fury,	seeking	to	escape,	but	Azaz	pulled	the

weary	eagle	down	to	the	ground.	There,	Azaz	placed	his	hind	paw	upon	the	neck

of	the	eagle	and	stepped	down.	The	eagle	thrashed	around,	fighting	the	immense

paw	of	the	grizzly.

“Tell	 me	 what	 you	 know,”	 Azaz	 said,	 “and	 I	 will	 make	 this	 less	 painful	 for you.”

“The	crown	is	not	here,”	the	eagle	said	in	 Osine. 	“You	are	the	king	of	nothing but	these	dead	sands.”

“Let	these	dead	sands	include	you,”	Azaz	said.

With	his	mighty	hind	paws,	Azaz	snapped	the	eagle’s	neck.	Azaz’s	forepaws

held	up	the	dead	eagle’s	body	as	Azaz	called	down	to	the	contaminated	pool.	“I

know	 you	 can	 hear	 me,	 Night	 Eye,”	 the	 grizzly	 god	 said.	 “I	 know	 what	 you planned.	When	I	find	that	crown—and	I	 will	find	it—I	will	roast	every	last	raven among	 you	 alive	 and	 eat	 the	 meat	 off	 your	 bones.	 You	 will	 all	 pay	 for	 this treachery.	There	is	but	one	king	of	kings!”

Azaz	caught	a	brief	holographic	image	of	The	Night	Eye	fluttering	around,	at

a	 loss	 for	 words.	 Their	 image	 disappeared,	 and	 the	 nanobots	 deactivated.	 Azaz crushed	 the	 treacherous	 micro	 machines	 beneath	 his	 hind	 paws.	 His	 own

nanobots	then	activated	once	more.	Azaz	called	them	over	until	his	own	kingly

armor	appeared	again.

Just	then,	Azaz	heard	something	in	the	wind	calling	him.	He	walked	along	to

one	 bristlecone	 among	 many.	 Then	 he	 heard	 a	 familiar	 voice,	 that	 of	 the	 echo, Nurvlyn,	calling	to	him.

“Adar	Llwch	Gwin	spoke	the	truth,”	the	voice	said.	“Methuselah,	the	greatest

terrestrial	 intelligence	 in	 this	 world,	 bids	 you	 to	 put	 forth	 your	 claim	 to	 the crown.	You	will	find	The	Crown	Of	Fire	on	The	Stone	of	Destiny,	the	peaks	of

Mount	 Rainier,	 called	 Gol-Kilpyne	 in	 the	 Osine	 tongue.	 You	 will	 not	 be	 alone there.	 Eyes	 upon	 eyes	 watch	 you.	 Kings	 and	 queens	 mean	 to	 kill	 you.	 Yet,	 the crown	will	choose	its	master,	not	the	other	way	around.”

“Nurvlyn,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “The	 rulku	 traitor.	 How	 I	 long	 to	 add	 you	 to	 the	 vast number	of	beasts	that	have	fallen	before	my	scourge!”

“We	 spoke	 before,	 great	 king,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “And	 as	 I	 said	 then,	 I	 remind you	now.	To	be	a	king	is	to	give	one’s	life	for	one’s	people.	Those	who	would

rule	the	earth	will	one	day	find	themselves	buried	under	it.	Remember	the	gift	I

gave	you	when	the	time	is	right.	Until	we	speak	again,	I	bid	you	farewell,	mighty

one.”

With	that,	Azaz	ran	off.	Using	the	nanosphere,	he	called	up	Vronkyl.

“The	 rulku	encroachers	live,”	Vronkyl	said	to	his	master.	“They	had	a	warrior wizard,	Fowler,	among	them.	He	controls	even	the	plants,	my	lord.	And	now,	the

rulku	fort	lies	hidden	among	the	weeds,	vines,	and	trees	of	nature.”

“It	is	of	little	consequence,”	Azaz	said.	“We	will	deal	with	this	Fowler	when

the	time	is	right.	Bring	your	best	legion	of	bears	to	 Gol-Kilpyne.	It	is	there	that the	deciding	battle	of	this	war	is	to	be	fought.	Move	out	immediately.	Do	not	rest until	you	are	there.	Are	my	orders	clear?”

“They	are,	my	master,”	Vronkyl	said.	“We	shall	move	at	once.”

Through	the	nanosphere,	Azaz	and	Vronkyl	joined	in	a	great	cry,	summoning

every	bear	within	range	to	answer	their	call	to	conquest.





CHAPTER	30

Animus

Nunavut,	Canada

Back	 in	 the	 northern	 glacial	 fortress	 that	 was	 Nunavut,	 White	 Claw	 and	 his celebration	 of	 polar	 bear	 warriors	 fought	 one	 more	 battle,	 this	 time	 for	 their lives.	 Sky	 Death,	 with	 his	 keen	 sense	 of	 smell,	 took	 an	 inventory	 of	 the	 bears returning.	Nearly	one-hundred	polar	bears	had	departed.	Only	fifty-two	returned.

Protected	 by	 the	 nanosphere	 above	 them,	 they	 formed	 walls	 of	 blood-stained white	 fur	 matting	 the	 ice	 and	 the	 caves.	 The	 eagles	 nursed	 them,	 but	 even	 the birds	of	the	sky	could	only	do	so	much.	Moon	Shadow,	still	limping	along	after

her	 savage	 encounter,	 came	 upon	 the	 bodies	 with	 her	 wolves.	 Every	 bird,	 even Thunder	Killer	himself,	turned	towards	her.

“Come	to	gloat?”	 White	Claw	asked	 the	advancing	wolf	 queen.	“Or	perhaps

you	feel	that	now	is	the	right	time	for	your	pack	to	strike	to	take	back	 Animus.”

“Now	 is	 neither	 the	 place	 nor	 the	 time,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said,	 extending	 his wings.

“I	 respectfully	 disagree,	 eagle	 king,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “Now	 is	 the	 only time	we	ever	have.	And	I	would	like	to	use	some	of	that	time	to	help	you	nurse

White	Claw	and	his	legion	back	to	health.	It	is	true	that	White	Claw	nearly	killed me.	It	is	true	that	several	of	my	wolves	and	my	greatest	warrior,	Crimson	Fang,

died	 under	 this	 bear’s	 paws.	 Yet,	 the	 words	 of	 White	 Claw	 also	 stay	 with	 me.

Animus	is	supposed	to	be	above	all	of	this.	It	is	the	last	refuge	of	the	animal	to stand	for	more	than	senseless	 rulku	killing.	If	we	continue	to	turn	on	each	other, the	 rulku	have	already	won,	even	if	every	last	one	perished	from	the	earth.”

White	 Claw	 lied	 silently,	 nursing	 his	 wounds	 while	 the	 turkey	 vultures

wrapped	 them	 with	 their	 beaks.	 His	 eyes	 stayed	 on	 the	 wolf,	 who	 now	 bore	 a scar	from	his	claws	upon	the	skin	that	lined	her	mane.

“May	 we	 help,	 King	 White	 Claw?”	 Moon	 Shadow	 asked.	 “May	 peace	 and

reason	once	again	rule	 Animus?”

Overcome	by	the	weight	of	his	enormous	pride,	which	froze	like	the	ice	upon

his	 matted	 fur,	 White	 Claw	 at	 last	 relented.	 “We	 would	 be	 grateful	 for	 any

assistance	 you	 might	 provide,”	 the	 polar	 bear	 king	 said.	 “If	 it	 saves	 any	 of	 my bears’	lives,	I	would	be	in	your	debt.”

Moon	Shadow	howled	up	towards	the	winter	moon.	From	the	shadows	of	the

ice	came	pack	after	pack	of	wolves,	each	with	its	own	nanosphere.	The	wolves

spoke	 with	 their	 nanobots,	 asking	 them	 to	 assist	 in	 cleaning	 and	 sewing	 the wounds.	 In	 a	 few	 brief	 moments,	 the	 makeshift	 animal	 hospital	 housed	 more nurses	than	patients.	Moon	Shadow	also	lent	her	assistance,	going	from	bear	to

bear	to	make	sure	that	each	received	proper	care.

When	Moon	Shadow	passed	White	Claw,	the	king	bear	called	her	over	with	a

quick	huff.

“Queen	wolf,”	White	Claw	said.	“I	am	a	prideful	and	stubborn	bear.	And	after

what	 I	 saw,	 what	 wounded	 my	 flesh,	 I	 would	 not	 cry	 if	 I	 saw	 the	 last	 rulku driven	from	Nunavut.	You	and	I	see	that	matter	differently,	I	know.	But	I	will	be

the	 first	 to	 say	 that	 I	 was	 wrong	 about	 you.	 You	 acted	 not	 with	 cowardice,	 but with	wisdom.	I	am	ashamed	to	say	that	I	was	not	myself.	I	was	not	fully	honest

with	you.”

Moon	Shadow	crept	closer,	if	only	so	that	White	Claw	could	huff	his	words	a

little	more	softly.

White	 Claw	 heaved,	 coughed	 up	 blood,	 and	 then	 began	 again.	 “There	 is

something	I	did	not	tell	you,”	he	admitted,	“something	that	drove	my	desire	for

conquest.	Our	spies	towards	the	borders	of	Bear	Mountain	tell	us	that	the	king	of

The	Rockies,	Azaz,	who	now	rules	most	of	the	land	to	our	South,	is	questing	for

a	 crown.	 Our	 lords	 of	 the	 rock	 and	 air,	 the	 ptarmigan,	 swore	 that	 this	 crown allows	 one	 to	 control	 the	 animal	 kingdom.	 It	 was	 the	 last	 of	 the	 rulku	 magic before	The	 Rapsys	 swept	 it	 away.	 I	 sent	 polar	 bears	 to	 hunt	 for	 this	 crown	 and ordered	my	spies	to	watch	the	grizzly	king’s	movements.	We	have	learned	that

he	quests	towards	a	fire	mountain	for	the	crown.	You	should	go	after	him.	You

are	more	worthy	to	rule	than	I	am.”

Moon	 Shadow’s	 eyes	 lowered.	 “I	 thank	 you	 for	 your	 kind	 words,”	 she	 said,

“but	I	cannot	run	fast	enough	now,	not	in	this	condition.	Half	of	my	wolves	are

still	recovering.	This	is	a	mission	for	the	king	of	birds.”

White	Claw	nodded,	saying,	“As	you	wish.	Let	us	call	Thunder	Killer	over.”

Thunder	Killer	watched	from	an	icy	peak	as	his	eagles	worked.	He	studied	the

birds	of	the	perimeter	to	see	if	there	were	any	signs	of	the	 rulku. 	Moon	Shadow made	herself	more	visible	and	then	howled	at	him.	Thunder	Killer	flew	to	where

the	two	other	monarchs	rested.

“What	is	it,	queen	wolf?”	Thunder	Killer	asked.

“Have	you	heard	of	The	Crown	Of	Fire?”	White	Claw	asked.

Thunder	Killer	cocked	his	aquiline	white	head	in	contemplation.	“My	hawks



recently	 spoke	 to	 me	 of	 a	 dragon	 bird	 beast	 reportedly	 hunting	 for	 it,”	 he	 said.

“They	say	it	gives	any	animal	the	power	of	the	 rulku	to	rule	the	other	tribes	of the	animal	kingdom.”

“Your	hawk	spies	speak	truthfully,”	White	Claw	said.	“My	spies	tell	me	that

Azaz	 has	 defeated	 the	 dragon	 bird	 beast	 you	 speak	 of.	 He	 hunts	 for	 the	 crown now	near	the	fire	peak	known	as	 Gol-Kilpyne.”

“I	 know	 of	 this	 peak.	 It	 is	 yet	 full	 of	 fire.	 My	 birds	 show	 care	 around	 it,”

Thunder	Killer	said.

“The	animal	world	needs	you	to	fly	to	 Gol-Kilpyne	and	make	sure	that	Azaz

does	not	gain	the	crown,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“We	would	rather	you	wear	it.	We

need	a	king	or	queen	who	sees	the	value	of	 Animus.”

“Your	 time	 is	 short,”	 White	 Claw	 said.	 “Azaz	 is	 only	 days	 away	 from

claiming	the	crown.”

“This	 is	 grim	 news,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said.	 “I	 suppose	 there	 is	 little	 choice	 in the	matter.	I	will	fly	at	once.”

“Thank	you,	Master	Eagle,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“I	will	send	the	wolves	that

are	uninjured	to	protect	you	from	the	ground.”

“And	 I	 what	 few	 black	 and	 brown	 bears	 we	 have	 that	 did	 not	 fight,”	 White Claw	 said.	 “But	 it	 will	 be	 up	 to	 you	 to	 move	 quicker	 than	 the	 wind.	 You	 may have	to	stand	against	the	great	grizzly	alone	if	we	cannot	make	the	final	fight	in time.”

“I	understand,”	Thunder	Killer	said.	“But	why	speak	of	this	only	just	now?”

White	 Claw	 shook	 his	 head.	 “My	 pride	 got	 in	 the	 way,”	 he	 said.	 “That	 is	 why you	would	make	a	better	king.”

“I	am	honored,	King	Bear,	though	I	wish	all	animals	could	fly	as	freely	as	my

eagles	and	I,”	Thunder	Killer	said.	“I	will	fight	for	that	freedom,	not	for	a	crown of	oppression.’

With	that,	Thunder	Killer	lifted	off,	announcing	his	intentions	to	the	birds	in

their	 own	 dialect	 of	 Osine. 	 Moon	 Shadow	 and	 White	 Claw	 then	 got	 to	 work sending	soldiers	out	to	round	up	any	able	bears	and	wolves.

Ul	Skushor

Congo

Yorba	 sat,	 weakly	 taking	 in	 a	 breath,	 as	 Gray	 Eyes	 tended	 to	 him.	 His	 gorilla eyes	could	just	make	out	the	body	of	Uzwali	on	another	matted	fern	bed	across



the	cave.	Yorba	could	hear	the	pounding	of	a	mighty	river,	but	the	smell	of	the

place,	part	dirt,	part	gunpowder,	part	 rulku, 	was	strange	to	his	nostrils.

“Don’t	stir,	my	lord,”	Gray	Eyes	said.	“I	have	removed	the	poison,	but	you	are

not	healed	yet.”

“And	the	 rulku?”	Yorba	asked.

Gray	Eyes	took	a	breath	with	his	tongue,	staring	at	the	fallen	hunter	general.

“I	could	not	save	her,”	Gray	Eyes	said,	plainly.	“Her	 rulku	system	was	too	weak to	bear	the	toxins.”

“I	will	kill	the	elephant	traitor	for	this,”	Yorba	said,	pounding	the	ground.

“Zulta	attends	a	meeting	now,	a	meeting	of	all	of	the	lords,”	Gray	Eyes	said.

“The	end	of	the	war	may	well	be	within	sight.”

Yorba’s	full	failure	settled	in	on	the	great	ape.	He	let	out	a	loud,	guttural	yawp, the	kind	reserved	only	for	gorillas	in	their	greatest	moments	of	distress.

“I	should	have	listened	to	you,	snake	prophet,”	Yorba	said.	“My	pride	was	too

strong.”

“It	 is	 unfortunate,”	 Gray	 Eyes	 said.	 “Unless	 Zulta	 acted,	 creating	 a	 beast	 of flight,	like	The	Night	Eye	did,	we	stood	no	chance.	With	you	struck	down,	the

crown	will	go	to	another.”

“I	can	still	fight,”	Yorba	said.

“No,	 you	 cannot,”	 Gray	 Eyes	 said.	 “The	 journey	 is	 perilous	 and	 far.	 You would	need	King	Blu’s	blessings	if	you	were	in	the	best	of	shape.	As	it	is,	you

cannot	even	travel.”

Gray	Eyes	closed	his	yellow	eyes,	chanting	at	the	snake	ancestors	who	came

before.	 In	 the	 mists	 of	 the	 cave,	 he	 saw	 animals	 on	 a	 peak:	 an	 eagle,	 an anaconda,	and	a	bear.	He	could	not	see	who	would	prevail	or	at	what	cost.

“There	may	yet	be	hope	for	you	to	rule	Africa,”	Gray	Eyes	said.	“Zulta	has	no

tolerance	for	the	bear	king	or	the	snake	empress.	If	one	of	them	seizes	the	crown, you	might	ascend	to	the	throne.	But	you	cannot	attack	Zulta	directly.	He	is	too

powerful	and	too	wise.	You	must	find	other	means.”

“I	will	avenge	my	apes,”	Yorba	said,	“by	any	means	necessary.”

Gray	Eyes	opened	his	eyelids.	“In	time,	my	lord,”	he	said.	“For	now,	rest.”





CHAPTER	31

The	Animal	Holosphere

Communications	of	the	Animal	Lords

The	 same	 alarm	 echoed	 throughout	 the	 various	 animal	 nanospheres	 until	 the great	kings	and	queens	of	the	animal	kingdom	felt	no	choice	but	to	answer.

“I	am	the	voice	of	King	Blu,”	the	faceless	transmission	began.	“Let	us	come

together,	as	animals,	in	the	holosphere,	to	discuss	the	problem	of	the	 rulku	 war.

The	end	may	be	closer	than	you	think.”

The	 voice	 was	 altogether	 unwieldy—with	 long,	 hard,	 drawn-out	 consonants

that	 had	 a	 sharpness	 to	 them,	 as	 if	 the	 letters	 were	 knives.	 Yet,	 none	 of	 the animal	lords	felt	that	they	could	ignore	such	a	powerful	summoner	as	any	who

bore	the	name	of	King	Blu	upon	his	tongue.

First,	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare,	alerted	by	Paihuai	Zhe,	joined.	A	shrouded

figure	full	of	teeth	waited.	The	Night	Eye,	newly	singed,	joined	in.	As	did	Groth

The	Impaler,	who	was	declared	a	second	regent	king	until	The	Night	Eye	fully

recovered.	 Zulta	 joined,	 though	 Yorba,	 still	 recovering,	 did	 not.	 Thraxis	 joined from	 an	 undisclosed	 location.	 White	 Claw	 and	 Moon	 Shadow	 joined,	 keeping quiet	about	their	recent	injuries.	Lastly,	in	a	surprise	to	all	the	animal	lords,	the unruly	Azaz,	with	a	hologram	of	only	his	head,	joined,	shrouding	the	lacerations

he	received	at	the	hands	of	Adar	Llwch	Gwin.

“Thank	 you,	 my	 brothers	 and	 sisters,	 for	 listening	 to	 the	 summons	 of	 King Blu,”	the	figure	said.	“The	great	ocean	emperor	has	become	aware	that	the	 rulku have	found	ways	around	his	magic.	Their	steel	beasts	and	hawks	of	iron	roll	and

fly	 and	 swim,	 even	 through	 the	 waters	 of	 the	 great	 ocean.	 And	 their	 victories mount.	Whereas	once	you	all	squashed	 rulku	warriors,	claiming	the	continents, now,	 the	 rulku	 drive	 you	 from	 your	 own	 kingdoms.	 Consider	 this.	 Yu	 The Golden	 Nightmare,”	 the	 figure	 said.	 “You	 once	 ruled	 Asia,	 but	 Hunter	 General Xavian	has	driven	you	from	the	capital	of	your	own	dynasty.	The	Night	Eye	are

fewer	in	number	after	Hunter	General	Fvoris	killed	elder	ravens	in	one	of	your

capital	cities,	all	the	while	pushing	back	the	dreaded	Groth	The	Impaler.

And	in	the	West,	both	White	Claw	and	Azaz’s	armies	have	fallen	at	the	hands

of	a	warrior	wizard.	Even	Yorba,	the	great	gorilla	king,	lies	wounded	in	his	fight

with	 a	 rulku	 warrior	 priestess	 while	 Zulta	 plots	 against	 animals,	 not	 rulku warriors.	 Only	 Thraxis	 has	 maintained	 her	 lands,	 perhaps	 solely	 because	 her hunger	 for	 human	 flesh	 exceeds	 your	 own.	 What	 has	 happened	 to	 our	 mighty animal	armies?	To	the	promise	of	 Animus?	Have	you	all	grown	weak?”

“Enough,”	Azaz	growled	out.	“Who	are	you	to	speak	to	the	rulers	of	the	earth

that	way?	The	voice	of	a	whale	underseas	that	sheds	no	blood?”

The	figure	stepped	into	the	light,	taking	off	his	hood.	Scars	of	his	own	battles

were	on	his	many	arms,	only	exceeded	in	number	by	his	scales	and	his	fangs.	“I

am	 King	 Croc,”	 he	 said,	 “ruler	 of	 Oceania	 and	 the	 southern	 lands	 of	 Ku-Rah, which	you	once	knew	as	Australia.	I	killed	the	 rulku	that	managed	to	make	the nanoplague	that	enabled	the	surviving	beasts	to	use	their	magic	again.”

“A	little	too	late,	it	would	seem,”	Thraxis	said.

King	Croc	ignored	the	snake	empress	and	went	on:	“I	managed	to	barter	with

some	of	your	killers	for	their	thinking	machines.	I	turned	them	over	to	King	Blu,

at	his	summons.	The	greatest	emperor	on	this	planet	does	not	like	the	 rulku	war machines.	 They	 harm	 his	 oceans	 and	 pollute	 his	 atmosphere.	 He	 has 	 put	 his deific	intellect	to	work.	The	divine	one	offers	you	now	a	technology	that	will	end the	war.	It	is	a	new	strain	of	nanobot	to	counter	the	recent	nanostrain.	It	will	seek out	those	nanobots	the	 rulku	wizard	The	Mechanic	sent	out	before	I	killed	him.

This	strain	will	take	over	their	programming.	Any	 rulku	who	again	activates	any weapon	of	war	will	die.	In	fact,	it	has	the	power	to	kill	the	 rulku	upon	contact, poisoning	them	from	within.	We	will	deploy	it	in	massive	bombs	that	rise	from

the	sea	and	ignite	over	the	continents.	It	is	so	powerful	that	one	bomb	alone	will spread	 its	 nanobot-laden	 warfare	 to	 the	 entire	 continent	 within	 a	 day.	 By	 King Blu’s	approximation,	fewer	 rulku	will	walk	the	earth	than	at	any	point	in	the	last one-hundred	thousand	years.”

“You	 mean	 to	 annihilate	 them— all	 the	 rulku,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “A genocide	of	billions.”

“Only	those	that	mean	us	harm,”	King	Croc	answered.

“So,	yes,	all	the	 rulku,”	Azaz	said.	“Very	efficient.	But	why	does	King	Blu	so suddenly	come	to	our	aid?	What	is	the	price	of	this	weapon?”

“You	 must	 be	 better	 stewards	 of	 the	 earth	 than	 the	 rulku,”	 King	 Croc	 said.

“You	must	respect	his	seas	and	their	creatures.	They	must	be	allowed	to	live	in

peace.	If	you	do	not,	King	Blu	will	pass	sentence	on	the	animal	world	just	as	he

has	on	the	world	of	the	 rulku.”

“Let	it	be	so,”	Azaz	said.	“Any	living	 rulku	is	a	threat	to	the	natural	order	of animals.	Let	the	balance	of	nature	be	preserved.”

“You	 don’t	 speak	 for	 all	 of	 us,	 Azaz—at	 least,	 not	 yet,”	 White	 Claw	 said.

“We’re	 talking	 about	 unparalleled	 destruction,	 as	 Moon	 Shadow	 indicated.	 Or

does	that	not	matter	to	you?	Does	nothing	matter	except	the	crown?”

Thraxis	hissed.	“A	crown	that	would	give	its	bearer	control	over	all	of	us,”	the

great	snake	queen	said.

“One	no	animal	should	wear,”	Zulta	added.

“At	least	not	a	mad	grizzly	bear	without	the	slightest	respect	for	this	council,”

The	Night	Eye	said.

“Not	any	of	us,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“We	must	agree	to	destroy	this	evil	 rulku

magic	 the	 moment	 we	 find	 it,	 or	 we	 will	 never	 be	 freed	 from	 the	 curse	 of 	 the rulku. ”

“Where	is	this	crown	you	speak	of?”	The	Golden	Nightmare	asked.	“Why	was

this	not	brought	up	in	council	before?”

“We	lose	focus,”	Azaz	said.	“The	weapon.	Let	us	vote	to	deploy	the	weapon.

Then	the	strongest	among	us,	the	rightful	ruler,	can	claim	the	crown	and	use	it	or destroy	it	as	he	sees	fit.	I	can	tell	you	that	if	I	find	the	crown,	we	wouldn’t	need weak,	soulless	committees	arbitrating	for	us.	There	would	be	a	king	that	would

get	things	done	by	the	power	of	his	jaws.”

“The	other	kings	and	queens	must	weigh	in,”	King	Croc	said.

“I	vote	no,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“We	have	forces	enough	to	defeat	the	 rulku.

There	are	too	few	of	them	to	pose	the	threat	they	once	did.	I	will	not	vote	for	the extinction	of	a	species.”

“Such	weakness	would	render	us	all	extinct.	I	vote	yes,”	Azaz	said.

“The	 rulku	once	had	such	magic,	in	prehistory,”	Groth	the	Impaler	said.	“Did you	know	it	was	said	that	they	dropped	bombs	so	vast	they	took	out	entire	cities

and	annihilated	entire	countries?	Did	the	 rulku	think	of	us	or	of	the	animals	they would	 kill	 when	 they	 dropped	 their	 bombs?	 Or	 of	 the	 environment	 they	 would poison	for	the	rest	of	us?	No.	Of	course	not,	in	typical	 rulku	hubris.	I	vote	yes.

Bomb	them	before	they	bomb	us.”

“Yet,	 we	 don’t	 know	 what	 this	 magic	 would	 do	 to	 us,”	 Zulta	 said.	 “I	 don’t trust	this	King	Blu.	I	vote	no	until	further	study	is	done.	Let	us	not	be	so	hasty.”

“The	longer	we	wait,	the	more	powerful	our	enemies	become,”	Thraxis	said,

looking	over	at	Azaz.	“I	vote	yes.	Let	us	end	the	war	with	the	 rulku	and	focus	on the	matter	of	the	crown.”

The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 shook	 his	 head.	 “The	 rulku	 will	 be	 dealt	 with,”	 he said.	 “I	 say	 we	 study	 this	 weapon,	 as	 King	 Zulta	 suggests,	 and	 use	 it	 on	 small groups	first,	like	the	 rulku	holding	Beijing.	I	vote	no	to	full-scale	slaughter.”

“And	 I	 second	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare’s	 and	 Zulta’s	 proposals,”	 The	 Night

Eye	 said.	 “I	 vote	 no.	 We	 must	 allow	 only	 small	 use	 of	 this	 weapon	 to	 test	 this device	and	its	effects	on	us	and	the	environment.	Otherwise,	we	risk	killing	the

very	world	we	fought	to	protect.”

“My	vote,	as	ruler	of	Oceania,	is	yes,”	King	Croc	said.	“These	 rulku	are	shifty and	need	to	be	killed	and	eaten	while	they	are	weak.”

“That’s	 another	 answer	 we	 don’t	 have,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said.	 “How	 will	 this technology	pollute	our	food	supply?	We	move	hastily,	as	King	Zulta	warns.”

“Good	 magic	 takes	 time,”	 King	 Croc	 said,	 “time	 we	 don’t	 have	 given	 the course	of	our	recent	battles.	We	must	move	quickly.	However,	the	vote	leaves	us

at	a	tie.	There	is	one	final	vote:	the	king	of	the	polar	bears	and	of	 Animus	itself has	yet	to	grace	us	with	his	wisdom.”

White	Claw	breathed	deeply.	He	thought	for	a	moment,	saying:	“I	respect	the

arguments	of	Moon	Shadow,	Zulta,	The	Golden	Nightmare,	and	The	Night	Eye.

Had	I	voted	weeks	ago,	I	would	have	voted	to	let	the	 rulku	live	in	peace.	But	the warrior	wizard	that	cut	me,”	White	Claw	said,	“let	me	see	what	a	dangerous	and

ruthless	predator	the	 rulku	truly	are.	To	let	such	creatures	live	is	foolish.	I	vote yes.”

“Spoken	like	a	true	bear,”	Azaz	said	in	commendation.	“I	know	the	wizard	of

whom	 you	 speak.	 The	 rulku	 warrior	 they	 call	 Fowler.	 He	 scarred	 me	 too.	 One day,	we	will	fight	him	together,	my	brother,	and	feast	on	his	flesh.	You	have	my

word.”

Moon	Shadow	shook	her	mane	and	stared	down.

“What	of	Nurvlyn	and	Methuselah?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.	“Do	they	not	get	a

say?”

“They	did	not	answer	the	summons,”	King	Croc	said.	“Besides,	half- rulku	and plants	have	not	been	allowed	a	place	on	the	animal	council.”

“Agreed,”	Azaz	said.	“When	do	we	strike?”

“King	Blu	will	give	you	and	your	animals	one	day	to	evacuate	any	areas	near

the	 rulku	 armies,”	 King	 Croc	 said.	 “Then,	 you	 will	 see	 a	 swarming	 of	 the	 sky.

When	you	do,	do	not	look	up.”

“Like	 a	 Biblical	 plague,”	 Groth	 the	 Impaler	 said,	 eyeing	 Azaz.	 “The	 rulku once	had	a	saying:	Now	I	am	become	Death,	the	destroyer	of	worlds.	This	is	true

for	all	awakened	animals	this	day.	Let	us	not	abuse	the	power	given	to	us,	or	we

shall	suffer	the	same	fate	as	the	 rulku. ”

“Maybe	you	will,	Impaler,”	Azaz	said.	“As	for	me,	I	choose	to	live	forever.”

Moon	 Shadow	 left	 the	 holosphere	 in	 disgust.	 Zulta,	 The	 Night	 Eye,	 and	 The Golden	 Nightmare	 quickly	 joined	 her.	 Azaz	 and	 the	 other	 animals	 were	 not	 far behind.	Valuable	time	had	been	lost.	The	crown	was	still	out	there,	somewhere

atop	 the	 fire	 mountain.	 The	 animals	 knew:	 the	 war	 with	 the	 rulku	 was	 but	 the first	 war	 among	 many.	 Whoever	 found	 the	 crown	 held	 the	 power	 to	 end	 wars upon	wars.	Any	other	battle	was	but	a	distraction.



Pols	Dedans

Near	the	Ocean

Nunavut,	Canada

Days	 later,	 Fowler	 sat,	 communing	 with	 nature,	 when	 the	 first	 orbs	 arose	 from the	sea.	They	were	like	iridescent	stars,	burning	the	tips	of	the	heavens	as	they

unleashed	 small,	 buzzing	 hives.	 The	 hives	 floated,	 giving	 birth	 to	 countless waves	 of	 nanobots	 that	 darkened	 the	 partly	 illuminated	 night.	 Fowler,	 sitting with	 holograms	 of	 Nurvlyn	 and	 Methuselah	 as	 he	 prayed,	 looked	 up	 and	 said nothing.

“So,	the	mobiles	have	launched	another	assault,”	Methuselah	said.	“This	one

will	 kill	 any	 rulku	 who	 seeks	 to	 use	 the	 technology	 that	 King	 Blu	 forbade.	 Do not	let	your	people	worry,	Fowler.	My	sisters	and	I	have	protected	you.	None	of

the	nanobots	will	make	it	past	the	wall	of	plants	that	rises	to	shield	you	from	the attacking	mobiles.”

“Thank	 you,	 Queen	 Methuselah,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “But	 part	 of	 me	 looks	 up,

despairing	 for	 the	 lives	 that	 will	 be	 lost.	 Once,	 there	 were	 billions	 of	 people living	on	this	earth.	Now,	there	will	be	only	a	handful.	I	feel	like	I	should	be	out there,	fighting.”

“A	 truly	 human	 feeling,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “You	 will	 be	 among	 the	 only

survivors.	We	will	teach	you	to	live	in	the	world	of	nature.	Then,	humanity	will

again	grow	with	the	might	of	a	healthy	stalk.”

Fowler	nodded,	bowing	to	express	his	gratitude.

“The	 humans	 among	 you	 will	 not	 be	 so	 understanding,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “You must	convince	them	that	this	is	the	only	way	forward.	It	has	been	said	that	a	war

never	truly	dies	until	the	last	soldier	falls.	The	memory	of	battle	is	too	strong.	So will	it	be	with	Brigand	and	his	loyalists.”

Nurvlyn	barely	spoke	the	words	when	Brigand	called	out	for	Fowler.	Brigand

stumbled	 closer	 to	 the	 circle	 of	 earth,	 out	 by	 the	 forest’s	 edge,	 where	 Fowler prayed.

“What	 kind	 of	 plant	 magic	 is	 this?”	 Brigand	 asked	 Fowler.	 “Trees,	 foliage, and	 vines	 reach	 and	 interlock.	 They	 protect	 the	 entire	 woods	 that	 hold	 us.	 Yet, outside,	 we	 hear	 bombs	 detonating.	 We	 hear	 electrical	 currents	 sailing	 through the	 skies.	 We	 hear	 the	 buzz	 of	 the	 nanobots	 swarming.	 One	 of	 our	 hunter generals,	Xavian,	has	taken	to	what	is	left	of	our	nanosphere	to	warn	humanity.

These	nanobots	are	all	over	the	world.	It’s	a	genocide	of	our	entire	species.	We must	rise	and	fight.”

“Xavian	 speaks	 the	 truth,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “Methuselah	 protects	 us	 here.	 Her sisters	 will	 protect	 those	 of	 us	 that	 they	 can.	 However,	 we	 cannot	 leave.	 Our fight	is	here,	not	continents	away.”

Brigand	 looked	 down	 at	 the	 warrior	 wizard,	 wondering	 if	 this	 was	 the	 same man	 who	 used	 an	 amplifier	 to	 wipe	 out	 entire	 squadrons	 of	 attacking	 bears.

Fowler	sensed	what	Brigand	must	have	thought.	Fowler	looked	up,	pleading.

“I	 am	 the	 only	 man	 to	 ever	 strike	 wounds	 into	 Azaz	 and	 White	 Claw	 and live,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “I	 have	 killed	 more	 awakened	 animals	 and	 sinned	 more against	nature	than	perhaps	any	living	man,	except	for	you.	I	know	what	it	is	to

fight.	 But	 in	 my	 time	 away,	 in	 my	 time	 with	 Nurvlyn	 and	 Methuselah,	 I	 have been	taught	a	better	way.	We	must	live	with	nature	and	not	as	if	we	are	above	it.

Our	fight	will	be	one	of	survival,	and	I	will	need	you	and	your	hunters	here	for

this	fight.”

“I	 can’t	 believe	 what	 I’m	 hearing,”	 Brigand	 said.	 “You	 were	 supposed	 to	 be humanity’s	last	great	hope.”

“You	 must	 be	 your	 own	 hope	 and	 the	 hope	 of	 humanity,”	 Fowler	 said.

“Nurvlyn	has	shared	his	visions	with	me.	Even	if	you	armed	every	settler	here,

you	 would	 all	 die.	 The	 animals	 are	 now	 too	 powerful	 for	 the	 human	 race	 to overcome.	They	would	slaughter	you	and	try	you	for	crimes	against	nature.	You

would	be	hanged	as	a	warning	to	all	who	would	defy	the	emerging	animal	world

order.”

“I	can’t	just	stay,”	Brigand	said.	“It	feels	so…cowardly.”

“I	 know	 how	 you	 feel,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “But	 the	 days	 of	 banding	 together	 to fight	 this	 war	 are	 over.	 You	 must	 think	 about	 your	 future	 here.	 About	 your children	 yet	 to	 be	 born.	 You	 must	 think	 of	 the	 reality	 of	 the	 controlling	 head piece,	the	crown,	that	you	created.”

Brigand’s	eyes	grew	wide,	glossed	over	with	something	like	shock	mixed	with

fear.

“The	 animal	 lords	 are	 not	 fighting	 just	 us,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “Shortly,	 they	 will fight	each	other	for	the	crown.	Whoever	wins	that	headpiece	will	hunt	us	down.

Without	our	technology,	we	will	be	powerless	to	stop	the	new	world	emperor.”

Brigand	 sat	 down	 by	 Fowler.	 “I	 was	 there	 when	 they	 first	 tested	 the

technology,”	he	said.	“What	have	I	done?	What	have	we	all	done?”

Fowler	put	a	consoling	arm	around	his	former	commander.	“We	were	fighting

against	nature,”	Fowler	said.	“In	the	end,	nature	always	wins.”

“My	hunters	won’t	understand,”	Brigand	said.

“You	will	have	to	make	them,	Hunter	General,”	Fowler	said,	simply.	“We	may



well	be	the	last	undetected	pocket	of	humanity.	If	we	don’t	survive,	who	knows

if	anyone	will?	Even	Methuselah	cannot	say	for	sure.”

The	two	men	sat,	watching	the	plant	foliage	shift	as	the	energy	of	the	nanobots

trickled	 down.	 Tiny	 robots	 glided	 down	 the	 canopy	 of	 forest	 cover,	 detecting only	plant	life.	The	little	bots	flew	on,	endlessly	searching	out	their	human	hosts.

The	 plants	 kept	 growing,	 kept	 expanding,	 in	 earth-brown,	 sea-green,	 and	 soil-black	luminosity.	For	a	split	second,	Brigand	thought	of	how	beautiful	it	all	was, the	 ending	 of	 one	 world,	 the	 birth	 of	 another.	 Then	 came	 the	 cries,	 the	 pleas, through	the	last	vestiges	of	the	human	nanosphere.	Fowler	and	Brigand	listened

to	each	human	cry,	praying	and	mourning	all	at	once.





CHAPTER	32

Ru-Cheylo

Wooded	Area	Outside	of	London

Groth	The	Impaler	stood,	still	shocked	by	the	devastation	of	the	white	orbs	from

the	night.	Never	in	all	of	his	awakened	years	had	he	heard	or	witnessed	a	death

so	awe-inspiring,	so	overpowering,	as	the	orbs	that	flew	from	 Ru-Cheylo	 to	 the continent.	 The	 stars	 opened	 up	 and	 rained	 light,	 and	 that	 light	 became	 a nanoviral	apocalypse.	The	destruction	was	swift.	There	were	cries,	like	those	of

the	animals	at	The	 Rapsys, 	only	more	harrowing,	more	forlorn,	more	bestial,	and the	 cries	 were	 endless.	 Many	 rulku	 never	 figured	 out	 that	 the	 moment	 they fought	to	defend	themselves,	they	sentenced	themselves	to	death.	The	wolverine

general	 who	 had	 sent	 fear	 and	 foreboding	 into	 the	 hearts	 of	 men	 now	 realized that	 the	 effigy	 he	 conjured	 up	 for	 the	 enemy	 was	 no	 longer	 necessary.	 He	 had never	 seen	 so	 many	 bodies	 piling	 up.	 Instead,	 he	 ordered	 the	 nanostructures	 to build	crematories	to	eliminate	as	many	of	the	dying	 rulku	as	he	could	before	they polluted	 the	 land.	 Select	 few	 were	 clean	 enough	 to	 be	 skinned	 for	 their	 meat.

Most	were	unsalvageable.

We	 voted	 for	 this, 	 Groth	 thought,	 looking	 over	 the	 endless	 bodies	 awaiting cremation. There	was	nothing	honorable	about	it.	This	wasn’t	a	battle;	it	was	a slaughter.	The	poor,	dumb	beasts	never	stood	a	chance.

As	 Groth	 pondered	 the	 words	 of	 Moon	 Shadow,	 words	 that	 warned	 of

genocide,	 he	 saw	 Blood	 Scar	 leading	 another	 scouting	 expedition	 back.	 Groth could	tell	from	the	urgency	of	the	bear’s	step	that	his	top	commander	had	found

something.

“Yes,	 commander—what	 is	 it?”	 Groth	 asked	 as	 the	 great	 bear	 general

approached.

“Our	 wolves	 and	 hounds	 finished	 hunting	 the	 outskirts	 of	 London,”	 Blood

Scar	 said.	 “There	 was	 a	 group	 of	 rulku	 that	 figured	 out	 the	 intent	 behind	 the contagion.	 They	 reprogrammed	 the	 nanobots	 to	 hide	 them	 behind	 an	 energy

shield.	Only	their	scent	gave	them	away.”

“Are	they	captured?”	Groth	asked.

“No,	General,”	Blood	Scar	answered.

“Why	ever	not?”	Groth	asked.

“The	 rulku	claim	to	have	a	bomb	that	can	wipe	out	every	animal	in	London,”

Blood	 Scar	 said.	 “They	 set	 off	 a	 tiny	 bomb	 that	 took	 out	 one	 entire	 wolf regiment.”

“How	is	that	possible?”	Groth	asked.

“Our	 scouts	 detected	 the	 rulku	 magic	 underground,”	 Blood	 Scar	 answered.

“The	 rulku	reprogrammed	the	nanofighters	before	the	little	robots	could	do	their work.	 Their	 leader,	 Hunter	 General	 Fvoris,	 demands	 to	 speak	 to	 you	 and	 The Night	Eye.	He	wishes	to	talk	terms	of	surrender.	He	says	the	plague	has	nearly

wiped	out	his	people.”

“Thank	 you,	 commander,”	 Fvoris	 said.	 “Summon	 the	 kings	 and	 queens.”

Blood	 Scar	 nodded	 and	 headed	 off	 to	 activate	 the	 secure	 nanosphere

communication	 signal.	 Groth	 waited,	 disappointed	 that	 the	 great	 hunt	 for	 the rulku	had	come	to	this.	After	vying	back	and	forth	through	so	many	battles,	the only	 rulku	warrior	bold	enough	to	strike	at	The	Night	Eye	was	left	fighting	for his 	 own	people’s	survival.

“Yes,	General?”	The	Night	Eye	asked	as	their	circling	black	forms	appeared,

like	a	midnight	cloud	minus	the	moonlight.	“What	is	it?”

“The	battle	in	 Ru-Cheylo	has	a	complication,”	Groth	said.	“The	 rulku	have	a working	bomb	that	can	destroy	the	city.	They’ve	already	set	one	bomb	off.	The

man	 beasts	 won’t	 speak	 simply	 to	 me.	 They	 demand	 that	 you	 be	 present	 to discuss	terms	of	surrender.”

“Is	Hunter	General	Fvoris	among	the	number?”	The	Night	Eye	asked.

“Yes,	my	kings	and	queens,”	Groth	said.

“Put	him	through,”	The	Night	Eye	said.

“After	what	he	did	to	you	last	time—it	must	be	a	trap,”	Groth	argued.

“Our	spies	have	told	us	of	this,”	The	Night	Eye	replied.	“Trust	us.”

Groth	 nodded	 to	 Blood	 Scar,	 who	 called	 out	 the	 code	 that	 he	 had.	 Soon enough,	 Hunter	 General	 Fvoris,	 blood	 streaming	 from	 his	 long	 red	 hair,	 joined them.	Sod	covered	his	body	as	eyes	of	blue	fire	stared	a	hole	into	both	The	Night

Eye	and	Groth.

“Hunter	General,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“The	 rulku	responsible	for	twenty-five raven	deaths.”

“If	I	had	taken	out	more	of	you,	this	meeting	might	have	been	very	different,”

Hunter	General	Fvoris	said.

“Not	 so,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said.	 “The	 numbers	 were	 always	 in	 our	 favor.	 The outcome	was	an	eventuality.”

“It’s	 that	 eventuality	 that	 I	 care	 to	 discuss,”	 Fvoris	 replied.	 “I	 demand	 safe passage	to	a	living	community	away	from	the	animals	for	my	people	and	myself.

If	you	give	me	that	assurance,	you	have	my	formal	surrender.	If	not,	you’ll	have quite	a	different	answer.	I’ll	blow	your	newest	animal	city	to	the	ground	and	you

monstrosities	along	with	it.”

“How	many	 rulku	are	we	speaking	of?”	The	Night	Eye	asked.

“Rulku?”	Fvoris	asked.

“Humans,”	 Groth	 interjected.	 “How	 many	 survivors	 are	 you	 asking	 to	 be

granted	sanctuary	on	our	lands?”

“Fifty	men,	women,	and	children,	plus	myself,”	Fvoris	answered,	his	voice	as

unsteady	as	his	words.

“Fifty?”	Groth	asked,	turning	to	The	Night	Eye.

“You	killed	the	others,”	Fvoris	said.	“Every	last	one.	And	you	didn’t	look	us

in	the	eye,	either.	You	did	it	with	a	bomb.”

“What	can	we	say?	We	learned	well	from	our	masters,”	Groth	said.

“Let	 me	 make	 you	 a	 counterproposal,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said.	 “Surrender

unconditionally,	 and	 I	 won’t	 exterminate	 the	 last	 of	 your	 men,	 women,	 and children	by	detonating	the	bomb	you	claim	to	possess.	As	for	yourself,	you	will

be	executed	as	a	war	criminal	for	crimes	against	the	animal	world.	By	my	count,

over	one	thousand	of	our	animal	troops,	including	our	own	brothers	and	sisters,

have	fallen	to	you.”

“And	 you	 just	 detonated	 a	 bomb	 that	 killed	 billions,”	 Fvoris	 said.	 “If	 there’s any	war	criminal	here,	it’s	you	and	your	wolverine	enforcer.”	Fvoris	paused	for	a

minute	before	demanding,	“Make	up	your	mind	quickly.	See,	I	have	half	a	mind

to	 just	 detonate	 the	 bomb,	 anyway.	 We’re	 already	 as	 good	 as	 dead	 here.	 Your animals,	 on	 the	 other	 hand—their	 lives	 are	 in	 your	 hands.	 You	 call	 me	 a	 war criminal?	You	have	no	idea	how	close	I	am	to	becoming	one.”

“Commander,”	The	Night	Eye	said,	calling	out	to	Blood	Scar.	“Put	the	edge	of

the	 Ru-Cheylo	forest	on	screen.”

Groth	and	Fvoris	said	nothing,	watching	as	the	last	of	Fvoris’	men	and	women

appeared	before	their	eyes.

“Watch,”	The	Night	Eye	ordered.

A	 bomb	 ignited	 the	 trees	 on	 fire,	 incinerating	 five	 hunters	 patrolling	 against the	endless	animals	lined	up,	ready	to	attack.

“We	have	bombs	buried	in	every	corner	of	your	camp,”	The	Night	Eye	said.

“That	blue	energy	shield	you	see	is	that	which	contains	the	blast.	If	I	set	off	any more,	your	bomb	will	also	explode,	killing	everyone	in	camp. Ru-Cheylo	 won’t suffer	 a	 single	 loss.	 So,	 I	 ask	 you	 again,	 Hunter	 General,	 do	 you	 surrender unconditionally?”

Fvoris	 broke	 down.	 The	 exhaustion	 of	 endless	 battle	 had	 taken	 its	 toll.	 The fallen	warrior	managed	to	pull	himself	together	enough	to	say,	“Kill	me.	I	don’t



care.	 But	 these	 are	 innocent	 men,	 women,	 and	 children.	 Spare	 them.	 Give	 me your	word	that	you	will	let	them	live,	and	I	will	surrender.	Please.”

“No	 rulku	 is	 innocent	 in	 killing	 us	 and	 pillaging	 our	 earth,”	 The	 Night	 Eye said.	 “However,	 I	 have	 no	 interest	 in	 exterminating	 your	 kind	 completely.	 We will	create	a	new	camp	for	your	people,	out	in	the	wilds	of	 Ichin-Volar, 	in	what you	 call	 Siberia.	 You	 will	 work	 and	 live	 under	 the	 watchful	 eye	 of	 animal guards.”

“I	 surrender,”	 Fvoris	 said	 in	 a	 broken	 whisper.	 “I	 will	 lower	 our	 shield	 and come	out	with	my	people.	We	are	unarmed.”

“General	Groth,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Tell	your	soldiers	to	round	the	last	of

the	 rulku	up.	We	will	hold	them	in	The	Tower	before	transport.	They	are	to	be locked	and	guarded	at	all	times.”

The	 shield	 fell.	 Immediately,	 the	 dogs,	 wolves,	 bears,	 and	 birds	 mauled	 the last	of	the	survivors.	Holed	up	for	months,	stealing	food	whenever	possible,	the

survivors	 were	 little	 more	 than	 a	 sheet	 of	 skin	 torn	 carelessly	 over	 too	 many scattered	bones.	The	bears	and	ravens	went	for	Fvoris	first,	pecking	at	his	eyes

and	 clawing	 and	 mauling	 him	 to	 the	 point	 where	 Fvoris	 was	 more	 blood	 than man.	The	bears	then	dragged	Fvoris	from	the	edge	of	the	woods	towards	the	city.

Nearly	one-thousand	animal	troops	escorted	the	other	survivors,	as	they	fought

not	to	walk	in	the	wake	of	their	captured	general’s	bloody	trail.

Yvot-Sing

Beijing,	China

Paihuai	Zhe	cleared	the	streets	with	her	snow	leopards.	So	many	bodies	fell	that

even	the	Asian	black	bears	and	spider	monkeys	lifting	them	fell	with	exhaustion.

All	around	 Yvot-Sing, 	fires	burned	day	and	night.	And	yet,	this	was	the	first	that Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 had	 seen	 of	 the	 heart	 of	 the	 city	 since	 the	 rulku rebellion	that	pushed	him	back	to	the	mountains.	The	heart	of	the	mighty	giant

panda,	 still	 arrayed	 in	 his	 golden	 armor,	 sunk	 at	 the	 sight.	 Between	 The 	 Rulku Plague	 and	 this	 latest	 volley	 of	 nanovirus,	 there	 were	 no	 living	 rulku	 within sight.

“Forgive	 me,”	 Paihuai	 Zhe	 said.	 “We	 have	 more	 bodies	 to	 move	 before	 you can	cross,	my	emperor.”

“Where	are	the	captured?”	The	Golden	Nightmare	asked.

“In	the	Min	Mountains,	in	the	camp	you	asked	our	chief	orangutan	Fuchan	to

devise,”	 Paihuai	 Zhe.	 “What’s	 left	 are	 only	 the	 fighters.	 The	 dying	 hunter general,	 Xavian,	 wishes	 to	 speak	 with	 you.	 He	 wishes	 to	 surrender	 directly	 to you.”

“Lead	me	on,	while	there	is	still	time,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.

“I’m	 sorry,”	 Paihuai	 Zhe	 said.	 “We	 only	 have	 so	 many	 apes	 to	 move	 all	 the dead.”

“I	 can	 step	 over	 them,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said.	 The	 great	 panda’s	 tone broke	ever	so	slightly	when	he	uttered	the	line.	“How	many	 rulku	live?”

“We	know	of	none	still	left	in	the	great	city,”	Paihuai	Zhe	said.	“Only	Xavian

breathes	and	not	for	long,	my	emperor.”

Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 journeyed	 for	 nearly	 an	 hour,	 stopping	 before

countless	cadavers,	before	he	found	the	body	of	Hunter	General	Xavian	drawing

his	 last	 breaths.	 Xavian	 lied	 by	 another	 dead	 body,	 that	 of	 Lieutenant	 Cyphus, who	met	his	death	swiftly	with	a	gun	in	his	hand.	The	virus	had	spread	toxins	the

moment	 he	 picked	 up	 a	 laser	 rifle	 to	 fire	 a	 volley	 at	 the	 incoming

nanotechnology	 that	 exploded	 in	 orbs	 from	 the	 sky.	 Xavian’s	 eyes	 looked

unnaturally	 white,	 burned	 and	 blinded.	 His	 arms	 and	 legs	 looked	 gnawed,

perhaps	by	the	snow	leopards	that	dragged	him	into	custody.

“Hunter	 General	 Xavian,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said	 sternly.	 Yu	 held	 his

helmet	by	his	side	in	a	gesture	of	respect.	“We	meet	face	to	face.	I	was	told	you

wished	to	speak	to	me	about	surrender.”

“I	haven’t	long	to	speak,”	Xavian	said.	“As	a	hunter	general,	I	wanted	to	see

you	 face	 to	 face,	 to	 formally	 surrender.	 I	 wanted	 you	 to	 avoid	 the	 fate	 we humans	brought	on	ourselves.	Killing	us	all	makes	you	no	better	than	we	were,

and	it	will	lead	to	the	same	outcome.	You	have	the	chance	to	do	better,	starting

with	my	people.	Don’t	let	all	of	my	people	die.”

“Extinction	was	never	my	plan,”	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.

“But	it	is	 his, ”	Xavian	said.	“I	have	heard	of	the	mad	bear	king.	I	have	heard of	 the	 snake	 queen.	 I	 have	 heard	 of	 the	 ape	 that	 kills	 soldiers	 by	 the	 neck	 in Africa	and	of	the	wolverine	that	impales	the	dead	in	Europe.	I	was	responsible

for	many	animal	deaths.	I	will	answer	for	that	now.	But	never	did	I	order	what

you	 ordered:	 the	 annihilation	 of	 a	 species.	 And	 with	 what?	 A	 few	 bombs.	 We never	had	the	chance	to	defend	ourselves.”

“How	many	wild	giant	pandas	did	you	let	roam	freely	in	your	time	ruling	this

earth?”	The	Golden	Nightmare	asked.	“How	many	bombs	and	grenades	did	you

set	off	with	wars,	killing	the	environment	and	its	animals	in	their	wake?	I	find	it odd	that	you	lecture	me	on	mercy	when	you	showed	none.	The	 rulku	will	meet their	just	fate,	whatever	that	may	be.”

“So,	the	dying	words	of	the	last	of	our	kind	mean	so	little	to	you,	do	they?”





Hunter	General	Xavian	asked.	He	heaved	the	last	of	his	breaths	with	great	care,

fighting	to	hold	on.	“Then	I	see	more	than	words	are	required.	Let	this	stay	with

you	as	the	mark	of	shame	for	the	deaths	you	beasts	caused.	Let	it	be	known	that

the	last	living	man	went	down	fighting.”

Paihuai	Zhe	leaped	forward	with	a	growl,	but	she	was	too	late.	Somehow,	the

rulku	warrior	in	front	of	her	had	used	his	time	to	reprogram	his	nanobots.	They swarmed	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 splashing	 a	 variant	 of	 the	 plague	 in	 the

emperor’s	face.	The	emperor	squirmed,	feeling	the	same	agony	that	Xavian	felt

as	the	nanobots	forced	the	plague	into	his	system.

“My	plague,	modified	for	animals,”	Xavian	said,	“is	now	yours.”

Before	 Paihuai	 Zhe	 could	 go	 for	 the	 neck	 of	 the	 fallen	 warrior,	 Xavian	 was dead.	Paihuai	Zhe	growled	for	the	Asian	black	bears	and	spider	monkeys	to	take

the	emperor	to	the	den	of	the	kraits,	the	master	healer	serpents.	She	felt	herself breathing	 in	 the	 nanoplague	 and	 stumbled	 back.	 Before	 falling,	 Paihuai	 Zhe ordered	her	ranking	general	to	close	off	the	city	to	protect	the	animals	beyond	its borders.

CHAPTER	33

The	Animal	Holosphere

Communications	of	the	Animal	Lords

With	the	fall	of	the	last	of	the	hunter	generals	in	Asia	and	Europe,	The	Night	Eye summoned	the	other	animal	lords	to	another	holographic	meeting	on	a	restricted

channel	in	the	nanosphere.

“We	can	say	that	the	war	criminal	Fvoris	has	been	apprehended,”	The	Night

Eye	 said.	 “He	 has	 been	 kept	 alive	 to	 answer	 for	 his	 crimes.	 With	 the

authorization	 of	 this	 council,	 we	 will	 broadcast	 his	 mauling	 at	 the	 end	 of	 this transmission	as	a	message	to	the	animal	world:	there	will	be	justice.”

“Very	good,”	Zulta	said.	“What	of	the	news	of	The	Golden	Nightmare?	How

does	he	recover	from	the	treachery	of	the	 rulku?”

“Our	 spies	 say	 nothing	 of	 his	 state,”	 Thraxis	 said.	 “Only	 that	 he	 will	 live,	 if disfigured. Yvot-Sing	 is	 off	 limits.	 We	 have	 offered	 the	 assistance	 of	 medical

nanobots.	They	are	eliminating	the	new	virus	as	we	speak.”

“We	have	also	sent	medical	bots,”	Zulta	said.

“As	has	 Animus,”	White	Claw	added.

“But	what	of	the	 rulku	in	the	West?”	The	Night	Eye	asked.	Ravens	and	crows circled	 en	masse.	Their	irregular	flight	pattern	signaled	irritation	at	the	mad	bear king	 who	 had	 dispatched	 their	 greater	 warrior	 beast	 and,	 with	 it,	 their	 hope	 for the	crown.

“I’ve	 taken	 the	 continent,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “No	 meaningful	 opposition	 remains.”

“Hunter	General	Brigand	and	the	warrior	wizard	you	spoke	of,	Fowler,	are	both

dead?”	Thraxis	asked.

“Presumably,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “The	 blizzards	 took	 the	 camp	 before	 the	 whale

king’s	 bombs	 detonated.	 The	 snow	 is	 too	 impassable	 for	 us	 to	 confirm	 their deaths.	I	plan	to	make	a	personal	point	of	it	once	the	winter	abates.	I’d	like	to	eat that	warrior’s	heart	myself.	White	Claw	is	welcome	to	join	in,	if	he	wishes.”

“Thank	you,	brother	bear,”	White	Claw	said.	“I	do.”

“Then	can	we	agree	that	the	war	on	the	 rulku	is	over?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.

“Can	 we	 agree	 that	 this	 council	 is	 against	 the	 full-scale	 extinction	 of	 the species?”

“I	 would	 not	 cry	 if	 the	 last	 rulku	 killer	 walking	 the	 earth	 died,”	 Azaz	 said.

“We	should	eliminate	them	so	that	they	can	never	overthrow	us.”

“To	what	end?”	Zulta	asked.	“They	are	no	threat	to	us	now.	Killing	just	to	kill

is	not	the	animal	way.	It	is	not	 Ozu. 	I	say	we	elect	a	certain	area	for	them	to	live in	and	keep	them	there,	carefully	monitored.”

“I	agree	with	Azaz,”	King	Croc	said.	“However,	the	ocean	god	does	not.	Any

that	would	kill	off	the	last	of	any	species	faces	his	wrath,	which	is	considerable.”

“How	dare	a	giant	whale	tell	the	rest	of	the	animal	world	what	to	do!”	Azaz

said.

“That	 intelligence,”	 King	 Croc	 replied,	 “whatever	 form	 it	 takes,	 ended	 your war	for	you.	It	could	easily	end	you	as	well.”

“Enough	bickering—let	us	know	peace	for	once,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Can

all	 of	 us	 agree	 that	 the	 rulku	 shall	 be	 given	 sanctuaries	 where	 they	 will	 be guarded	and	allowed	to	live	and	reproduce	in	small	numbers?	We	are	not	ready

for	a	war	against	King	Blu.	Not	yet,	anyway.”

“Agreed.	 For	 now,”	 Thraxis	 said.	 “So	 long	 as	 we	 allocate	 a	 portion	 for breeding	so	that	we	may	continue	to	feast	on	their	flesh.”

“Feasting	I	can	live	with,	but	a	living	 rulku	is	a	dangerous	beast,	one	that	must eventually	be	put	down,”	Azaz	said.	“I	will	not	exterminate	them	all…	not	just

yet.”

“Then	 it’s	 decided,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “Let	 peace	 be	 announced	 to	 all





animals	through	the	 Osine	language.	Let	the	nanosphere	ring	out	in	celebration.”

With	that,	The	Night	Eye	gave	the	order.	The	chanting	of	animals,	of	owls	and

orangutans,	 of	 peregrine	 falcons	 and	 panthers,	 echoed	 through	 the	 nanosphere.

As	the	animal	lords	joined	in	celebration,	The	Night	Eye	presented	a	new	image.

Stumbling	 along,	 little	 more	 than	 a	 bloody	 heap,	 was	 Fvoris.	 The	 disgraced hunter	 general	 appeared	 in	 the	 nanosphere	 for	 all	 to	 see	 and	 hear.	 The	 animals and	 their	 lords	 grew	 sullen	 and	 silent	 at	 so	 bloody	 a	 reminder	 of	 the	 cost	 of victory.

“Any	 last	 words,	 as	 you	 rulku	 would	 have	 it?”	 Groth,	 Fvoris’	 executioner, asked,	adjusting	the	noose	around	the	fallen	warrior’s	neck.

“You	 can	 kill	 me,	 but	 you	 can	 never	 kill	 the	 human	 race,”	 Fvoris	 said.	 “We adapt.	We	learn.	We	grow.	We	survive.”

“Not	 today,”	 Groth	 said,	 kicking	 Fvoris	 from	 The	 Tower	 embankment.	 The

ravens	and	crows	pecked	instantly.	The	wolverines,	wolves,	and	dogs	descended

upon	 Fvoris	 the	 moment	 his	 body	 hit	 the	 ground.	 Fvoris’	 body	 twitched	 like	 a scalded	fish	before	lying	limp,	indistinguishable	from	the	blood	that	surrounded

it.

In	such	a	way,	peace	was	declared.

CHAPTER	34

Gol-Kilpyne

Mount	Rainier,	Washington,	USA

The	 icy	 crown	 of	 the	 mighty	 volcano’s	 peak,	 bedecked	 with	 snow	 and	 rock, attracted	Azaz	at	first.	It	was	a	picture	of	power,	of	ascendancy,	that	the	scarred grizzly	 king	 could	 appreciate.	 And	 so,	 Azaz	 took	 unnatural	 pride	 in	 climbing Gol-Kilpyne, 	in	tasting	the	taut	air	that	even	mankind	could	not	fully	poison.

“Come	 up,”	 Azaz	 ordered	 his	 regiment	 of	 bear	 warriors.	 “Witness	 the

crowning	of	your	most	worthy	king.”

The	bears,	including	Vronkyl,	stayed	at	Azaz’s	flank	as	he	ascended.

Azaz	stood	up	on	his	hind	legs,	calling	out	to	the	wind,	“Well,	wizard.	Here	I

am.	I	smell	you,	even	if	I	can’t	see	you.”

“King	Azaz,”	Nurvlyn	said,	through	swarms	of	sea	blue	nanobots	seeding	the air.	“We	have	been	waiting	for	you.”

“We?”	Azaz	asked.

The	shrieking	of	a	regiment	of	eagles	overtook	the	silence.	Azaz	looked	to	see

the	 mighty	 wings	 of	 Thunder	 Killer	 circling	 around	 Azaz	 and	 his	 bear	 legion.

With	 a	 shriek	 so	 loud	 it	 made	 the	 bears’	 ears	 bleed,	 Thunder	 Killer	 descended, landing	on	the	uppermost	peak	of	 Gol-Kilpyne.

“I	represent	 Animus,”	Thunder	Killer	said.	“I	have	come	to	challenge	for	the crown.”

“I	killed	one	eagle	masquerading	as	a	beast,”	Azaz	said.	“I	can	just	as	easily

kill	another.	Fly	away	now,	bird,	or	feel	the	wrath	of	your	master.”

Thunder	 Killer	 rose,	 harnessing	 the	 power	 of	 the	 thunderbird	 through	 his nanobots.	A	massive	wave	of	electricity	overtook	Azaz,	bringing	the	grizzly	bear

back	down	to	all	fours.

“Watch	how	you	speak	to	a	king,	mad	bear,”	Thunder	Killer	said.

As	 Thunder	 Killer’s	 eagles	 inched	 closer	 on	 the	 peak,	 Azaz	 felt	 a	 giant shadow	descend	upon	him.	He	turned	around,	to	see,	through	holes	giant	enough

to	absorb	boulders,	an	entire	army	of	serpents.	Chief	among	them	was	Thraxis,

standing	 upright	 at	 ten	 feet	 tall,	 her	 shadow	 dwarfing	 even	 the	 mightiest	 and most	ruthless	of	the	bear	kings.

“I	 could	 eat	 you	 both	 and	 still	 have	 enough	 room	 left	 for	 your	 legions,”

Thraxis	 said	 with	 sporadic	 hisses.	 “If	 anyone	 stands	 as	 the	 mightiest	 of	 all animals,	it’s	me.	There	shall	be	no	king.	Only	an	empress.”

Thunder	Killer	flapped	his	wings.	Azaz	growled	and	snarled.

“Now	that	everyone	is	here,”	the	voice	of	Nurvlyn	said,	“we	can	establish	the

rules.”

“Rules?”	Azaz	asked.	“Kings	make	rules.	They	don’t	follow	them.”

“Yet,	you	 will	 listen,”	 Nurvlyn	 said,	 sending	 a	 gust	 of	 ice	 so	 strong	 it	 nearly blew	the	great	bear	king	over.	“For	even	a	king	answers	to	that	which	is	 Ozu. ”

Even	 Thunder	 Killer	 struggled	 to	 hold	 to	 his	 perch	 in	 the	 massive	 gust	 of ethereal	ice.	Thraxis	shuddered.

“Methuselah	The	Wise	protected	you	by	hiding	this	crown,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“I

can	see	why	now.	If	it	were	up	to	me,	none	of	you	are	worthy	to	rule	over	the

other	animal	lords.”

The	 nanobots	 formed	 into	 a	 robotic	 likeness	 of	 their	 host	 and	 master.	 The wizard,	withered,	appeared	before	the	animal	lords.	Nurvlyn	still	bore	prominent

antlers	and	still	robed	himself	in	the	plants	of	the	earth.

“Yet,	 the	 crown	 has	 been	 calling	 to	 Methuselah,”	 Nurvlyn	 continued.	 “It’s been	calling	to	the	animals.	King	Blu	assures	us	that	its	time	is	at	hand.	I	alone

have	seen	what	you	seek	ages	ago,	when	I	was	fully	human.	It	appears	as	ruby red	fire,	with	tinges	of	gold	and	diamond.	In	reality,	it	consists	of	master	nanobots	that	can	evolve	its	host	further	than	any	land	animal	has	ever	evolved.	The

greatest	 and	 worst	 of	 your	 qualities	 will	 be	 magnified.	 You	 will	 be	 able	 to channel	your	ancestors,	to	have	their	powers	as	your	own.	No	one	animal	will	be

your	 equal.	 With	 such	 power,	 there	 is	 the	 need	 for	 great	 wisdom.	 Whoever	 the crown	picks	must	remember	to	speak	for	all	animals,	not	just	for	one,”	Nurvlyn

said,	looking	directly	at	Azaz.

“Enough	of	your	lectures,”	Azaz	said.	“Bring	forth	the	crown.”

“I	 cannot,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “No	 one	 can.	 The	 crown	 emerges	 when	 it	 has

selected	 its	 new	 host	 and	 master.	 It	 was	 designed	 to	 look	 for	 human	 brain activity	 when	 the	 rulku	 first	 fashioned	 it.	 It	 has	 evolved	 through	 many generations	 of	 nanobots	 since	 then.	 Now,	 it	 seeks	 out	 whoever	 will	 fulfill	 its purpose	 the	 best:	 The	 Great	 Balance	 Of	 Nature.	 It	 is	 torn	 between	 the	 three	 of you.	You	must	face	each	other	and	prove	your	worth.	Only	those	competing	for

the	 crown	 may	 stay.	 All	 others	 must	 leave,	 or	 the	 crown	 will	 kill	 them	 where they	stand.”

“No	armies?”	Thunder	Killer	asked.

“Only	kings	and	queens,”	Nurvlyn	said.

The	 three	 animal	 lords	 stared	 at	 one	 another.	 Azaz	 paced.	 Thraxis	 slithered.

Thunder	Killer	hovered.	Each	watched	the	others	to	see	who	would	comply	first.

“Eagles,	fly	below,	for	your	lives,”	Thunder	Killer	said.	“Do	not	ascend	unless

it	is	safe.”

Nurvlyn	gazed	at	Thraxis.

“Snakes,	stay	in	your	holes	beneath	the	volcano,”	she	ordered.	“Do	not	ascend

unless	I	command	it.”

Finally,	all	animal	eyes	gazed	upon	Azaz.

“Fall	 back,	 bears,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “Do	 not	 strike	 until	 these	 cowardly	 animals betray	us.”

The	bears,	snakes,	and	eagles	disappeared.	Thunder	Killer,	Azaz,	and	Thraxis

stood	by	themselves	in	a	lonely	wind.

“The	fight	goes	until	the	crown	selects	its	winner,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“It	need	not

be	until	the	death.”

Azaz	 growled,	 standing	 again	 at	 full	 height.	 “You	 shall	 both	 find	 death	 a mercy,”	he	said.

With	that,	Nurvlyn	said,	“The	contest	of	kings	and	empresses	begins.	May	the

best	animal	win	the	crown’s	favor.”

As	he	spoke,	Nurvlyn	disappeared	into	a	shroud	of	smoke	and	ice.

Without	 eying	 each	 other,	 Thunder	 Killer	 and	 Thraxis	 lunged	 towards	 Azaz.

The	mighty	grizzly	king	braced	himself	for	the	combined	blow.	Thunder	Killer went	for	the	bear’s	eyes,	his	massive	talons	nearly	striking	their	target.	Thraxis’

huge,	undulating	body	threw	Thunder	Killer	off	the	target	as	she	sought	to	wrap

and	 constrict	 herself	 around	 the	 massive	 bear.	 Azaz’s	 mighty	 paws	 swiped	 the eagle	 from	 its	 flight.	 The	 gash	 on	 Thunder	 Killer’s	 right	 wing	 made	 him	 land gingerly	 below.	 Azaz’s	 nanobots	 formed	 a	 serrated	 scourge.	 Azaz	 whipped	 the great	green	anaconda	until	the	pain	forced	her	back.	Thraxis	recoiled,	assessing

the	damage	to	her	silver	armor.	Thunder	Killer,	dripping	blood,	took	to	the	air,

spreading	 his	 fully	 armed	 wings.	 Thunder	 Killer	 became	 like	 a	 phoenix	 in	 a cloud	 of	 fire,	 blowing	 flames	 and	 lightning	 at	 both	 the	 bear	 king	 and	 snake queen.	The	two	animals’	suits	of	armor	melted,	but	the	armor	managed	to	absorb

the	massive	blows.	The	grizzly	king	and	snake	empress	eyed	one	another.	Both

made	 a	 strike	 against	 the	 eagle.	 Azaz’s	 claws	 opened	 the	 wound	 on	 the	 wing further.	Thraxis	struck	out,	lashing	her	head	in	a	venomous	assault.	She	bit	the

eagle.	 Thunder	 Killer,	 flapping	 his	 wings,	 sent	 further	 waves	 of	 fire	 and lightning.	They	electrocuted	the	great	anaconda	queen	and	the	mauling	grizzly.

Azaz	 fell	 down.	 Thraxis	 fell	 back.	 Thunder	 Killer	 cascaded	 down	 the

mountainside,	 a	 river	 of	 wings,	 feathers,	 and	 poison	 all	 flowing	 until	 one crashing	motion	put	the	eagle	king	to	rest.

“You	 have	 poison?”	 Azaz	 called	 out,	 searching	 for	 Nurvlyn.	 “Surely,	 that violates	the	wizard’s	rules.”

“The	most	venomous	of	my	snakes	armed	me	for	battle,”	Thraxis	said.	“The

venom	is	as	much	a	part	of	me	as	your	weak	claws	are	a	part	of	you.”

Nurvlyn	did	not	appear.	Azaz	braced	himself,	but	there	was	little	need.	An	orb

of	fire	descended	over	the	fallen	eagle	king.	Thraxis	turned	her	gigantic	body	to

take	in	the	view.

“Has	the	crown	chosen?”	she	wondered	aloud.

The	orb	of	fire	then	overtook	the	body	of	the	fallen	eagle.	It	appeared	to	bind

the	animal’s	wounds.	Within	seconds,	Thunder	Killer	disappeared.

“Two	warriors	remain,”	Nurvlyn	announced.

Renewed	by	the	realization	that	they	might	not	die,	Thraxis	and	Azaz	lunged

for	 each	 other.	 Azaz	 avoided	 the	 biting	 blow	 of	 the	 mighty	 anaconda.	 He pounded	 at	 the	 snake	 queen’s	 head,	 going	 for	 her	 eyes	 and	 her	 sense	 of	 smell with	 his	 massive	 scourge.	 The	 nanorobotic	 armor	 held	 up,	 though.	 Thraxis tossed	the	massive	grizzly	king	aside	with	the	full	might	of	her	body.	With	the

thrust,	 coils	 of	 Thraxis’	 skin	 shed,	 each	 launching	 at	 the	 bear	 king	 like	 tiny daggers.	 The	 daggers,	 dripping	 in	 poison,	 hit	 Azaz’s	 armor.	 One	 struck	 Azaz’s snout.	 Azaz	 pulled	 the	 dagger	 out.	 His	 eyes	 met	 Thraxis’.	 They	 were	 wide, opaque.	Azaz	realized	that	the	damage	was	irreversible.

“The	 fight’s	 over,	 insolent	 bear,”	 Thraxis	 said.	 “Bow	 down	 to	 your	 rightful empress,	and	I	may	let	your	kind	live—for	now.”

Azaz	growled,	standing	at	full	might.	“I	will	spend	every	last	second,”	he	said,

“before	the	poison	settles	in,	tearing	you	apart.”

With	 renewed	 rage,	 Azaz	 lunged	 at	 the	 snake	 queen.	 Azaz	 mauled	 Thraxis’

head	and	her	massive	body.	The	grizzly	king	then	lifted	the	giant	snake,	tossing

her	from	one	edge	of	the	mountain	peak	to	the	next.	Azaz	pulled	back	the	armor.

He	bit	down	with	all	of	his	might.	Azaz’s	growl	became	one	of	bemusement	as

he	stepped	back.

“You	 are	 not	 the	 only	 one	 who	 came	 prepared,	 snake,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “My	 bite has	held	nanobots	full	of	the	plague	that	tortures	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare	and

his	 kin.	 Its	 effects	 should	 be	 immediate.	 The	 only	 question	 is:	 which	 one	 of	 us succumbs	first?”

Thraxis	slithered	in	circles,	her	body	heaving	to	and	fro	in	sickness.	She	felt

the	full	power	of	the	toxin,	yet	sought	to	use	her	nanobots	to	dilute	it	in	her	body.

Azaz	 lunged,	 mauling	 and	 biting	 some	 more.	 Thraxis	 fell	 down,	 struggling	 to seek	out	a	large	hole	to	cover	her	retreat.	Azaz	pulled	Thraxis	back.

Thraxis	coiled	around	the	bear,	fighting	against	her	pain.	Instinctively,	Thraxis

squeezed	at	the	bear’s	insides	with	all	of	her	serpentine	might.	The	two	animals

writhed	on	the	rocky	peak,	locked	in	endless	battle.

“If	 you	 have	 any	 heart	 left,	 bear,	 I	 will	 squeeze	 it	 out	 of	 you	 now,”	 Thraxis promised.

Too	 weak	 for	 words,	 Azaz	 dropped	 his	 scourge.	 Dizzy,	 the	 great	 grizzly

stopped	for	a	second	to	collect	his	might.	He	mauled,	clawed,	and	bit.	Thraxis’

bleeding	head	retreated	from	the	bear’s	reach.	Still,	the	plague	burrowed	deeper

into	her	fresh	wounds.	Thraxis’	hold	on	the	grizzly	king	weakened.	She	fought	to

redouble	 her	 strength.	 As	 she	 did,	 Thraxis	 felt	 something	 piercing	 her.	 They were	 spear-like	 talons,	 only	 each	 was	 full	 of	 lightning	 that	 consumed	 her	 in	 a cloud	above	her	head.

“Meet	 the	 last	 gift	 of	 Adar	 Llwch	 Gwin,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “If	 I	 die,	 I	 do	 not	 die alone.”

Azaz’s	last	thought	was	for	his	bears.	He	pictured	the	snake	empress	hunting

and	killing	the	children	of	Bear	Mountain	for	meat.	Azaz	remembered	Nurvlyn’s

gift	from	so	long	ago,	before	Thraxis	and	her	poisons.	He	called	upon	it.

Thraxis	 renewed	 her	 squeezing.	 Azaz	 and	 Thraxis	 rolled	 to	 the	 edge	 of	 the peak	in	battle.	Another	volley	of	talons	electrocuted	the	great	anaconda	queen	as

she	 squeezed	 down	 on	 Azaz.	 The	 shock	 consumed	 her.	 Thraxis	 rolled	 right	 off the	 mountain	 peak,	 still	 coiled	 around	 Azaz.	 The	 two	 crashed	 into	 the	 sands below.	 Neither	 moved,	 yet	 their	 blood	 moved	 freely,	 pooling	 at	 the	 feet	 of	 the





holographic	wizard.

The	animal	legions	looked	to	Nurvlyn	for	answers.

Mount	 Rainier	 rumbled,	 as	 if	 about	 to	 offer	 up	 its	 lava	 and	 ash	 to	 scold	 the world	for	such	a	fatal	fight	of	monarchs.	Yet,	instead	of	lava,	fiery	red	nanobots larger	 than	 any	 animal	 had	 ever	 seen	 emerged	 from	 the	 heart	 of	 the	 volcano.

They	circled	as	a	sphere	in	the	sky,	approaching	the	fallen	king	and	queen.	After

analyzing	 each,	 the	 nanobots	 sewed	 Thraxis’	 wounds.	 The	 great	 snake	 queen disappeared.

The	 crown	 descended	 like	 a	 fiery	 halo	 above	 Azaz’s	 head.	 Azaz’s	 wounds

healed.	His	skin	and	fur	were	bound.	The	grizzly	king’s	appearance	altered.	The

already	 massive	 reddish-brown	 grizzly	 bear	 took	 on	 the	 form	 of	 his	 ancestors, something	 like	 a	 cross	 between	 a	 grizzly	 and	 a	 short-faced	 bear.	 Azaz’s	 eyes became	 white	 as	 lightning.	 His	 fur	 became	 like	 fire—orange,	 red,	 and	 gold waves	overtaking	his	body.	Like	a	deity,	Azaz	rose.

“The	 crown	 has	 chosen,”	 he	 growled,	 with	 words	 that	 echoed	 through	 the

nanosphere.	“Behold,	I	am	Azaz,	king	of	kings,	conqueror	of	queens,	eradicator

of	empires.	All	are	subject	to	my	will!”

Lightning	flew	in	every	direction	from	the	great	bear	king,	consuming	every

stray	corner	of	sky.	The	eagles	and	hawks	flew	away	as	quickly	as	their	wings

allowed.	 The	 snakes	 burrowed	 back	 into	 their	 holes	 in	 full	 retreat.	 Only	 the faithful	 grizzly	 servants	 remained.	 Even	 they	 quaked	 underneath	 the	 newly crowned	 bear	 god.	 The	 bears	 laid	 their	 bodies	 down,	 prostrating	 themselves before	Azaz,	emperor	of	all	animals.	Azaz	smelled	the	fear,	bubbling	like	fresh

blood,	washing	over	them,	and	laughed.

TABLET	3:

THE	WAR	OF	THE	ANIMALS





CHAPTER	35

Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

Azaz	The	Bear	God	sat	on	his	rocky	throne,	breathing	in	the	fear	like	ether.	His

armor	was	white	fire.	Red,	gold,	and	white	flames	approximated	the	visage	of	a

giant	short-faced	bear	meshed	with	the	fur	and	mass	of	a	grizzly	that	extended	in

a	body	that	looked	as	gargantuan	as	that	of	a	killer	whale.	The	body	of	fire	was

larger	 than	 any	 bear	 to	 ever	 live.	 Even	 the	 massive	 White	 Claw,	 one	 of	 the largest	 bears	 on	 Earth,	 looked	 diminutive	 by	 comparison.	 The	 brilliance	 of	 the fire	 was	 such	 that	 few	 could	 even	 look	 at	 the	 massive	 king	 of	 all	 animals directly.	It	was	like	gazing	at	a	fallen	sun.	And	then	there	were	the	red	nanobots, now	 servants	 of	 fire	 that	 surrounded	 their	 master,	 saying	 nothing.	 They	 simply watched	 for	 any	 threats.	 Their	 flames	 circulated	 in	 endless	 fusion	 near	 the massive	grizzly	and	polar	bear	guards	that	sat	at	the	foot	of	the	throne.

Below	Azaz,	animals	reenacted	the	great	battle	on	the	top	of	 Gol-Kilpyne.	 A mountain	 lion	 portrayed	 Thraxis,	 decorated	 with	 scale-like	 armor.	 A	 bald	 eagle portrayed	Thunder	Killer,	decorated	with	plumage	from	recent	kills.	Of	course,	a

grizzly	from	The	Blood	Paw	portrayed	Azaz,	knocking	the	two	opponents	from

the	top	of	the	mountain	before	Azaz	stood	victorious,	ready	to	be	anointed	by	the

gods.

Animals	 from	 all	 parts	 of	 the	 continent	 looked	 on,	 feasting	 on	 bits	 of	 men garnished	 in	 herbs.	 Hands,	 thighs,	 and	 even	 full	 legs	 protruded	 from	 great bonfires.	Hawks	carried	the	food	to	the	hordes	of	gathered	animals.	Anacondas,

rattlesnakes,	and	copperheads	attended,	if	only	to	make	peace	with	the	new	king

of	kings.	Coyotes,	foxes,	wolves,	and	dogs	sat	next	to	them,	barking	and	howling

at	 climatic	 moments	 in	 the	 drama.	 Of	 course,	 bears	 of	 all	 kinds,	 from	 White Claw	and	his	polar	bears	to	the	brown	and	black	bears	of	the	former	Appalachia,

congregated.

In	 the	 nanosphere,	 countless	 holograms	 were	 visible—from	 Thraxis,	 who

hissed	 silently,	 to	 Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare,	 now	 with	 a	 mask	 of	 gold	 to	 hide his	plague-marked	features.	The	Night	Eye	appeared,	as	did	Groth	The	Impaler.

King	Croc	was	there,	representing	King	Blu.	Moon	Shadow,	though	recovered,

joined	only	at	White	Claw’s	bidding.	The	only	noticeable	absences	were	Yorba and	Zulta,	a	sight	that	did	not	go	unnoticed	by	the	bear	god.	Still,	even	they	sent envoys	like	Kama	The	Lion	King	and	their	own	seer,	Gray	Eyes,	as	a	gesture	of

good	faith.

“Welcome	to	the	coronation	of	your	new	king	of	kings,”	Sky	Death	said	after

the	proceedings	started.

Sky	 Death	 spoke	 in	 a	 way	 that	 commanded	 attention—soft,	 but	 assertive.	 It was	 a	 welcome	 contrast	 to	 the	 bear	 god	 himself	 and	 a	 fitting	 compromise	 to show	that	 Animus	had	a	place	at	the	table	of	the	king.

“Today,	our	great	king	of	kings	wishes	to	say	a	few	words	before	receiving	the

blessing	of	the	prophets,”	Sky	Death	announced.

The	 turkey	 vulture	 flew	 quickly	 from	 the	 unquenchable	 fire	 that	 approached him.	 He	 shone	 with	 the	 dripping	 fire	 of	 the	 crown	 upon	 his	 head.	 Azaz approached	 to	 receive	 a	 ceremonial	 crown,	 one	 Groth	 confiscated	 from	 The Tower	of	the	former	London.	The	mass	of	bear	heaved	back	and	forth,	his	steps

like	tiny	earthquakes	as	he	approached	the	top	of	the	Bear	Mountain	stone	steps.

There,	 Groth	 placed	 the	 crown	 on	 Azaz’s	 head,	 and	 the	 animals	 in	 attendance roared	their	approval.

“This	 is	 not	 just	 my	 crowning,”	 Azaz	 said,	 once	 the	 cheering	 subsided,	 “but the	crowning	of	all	animals	over	the	scourge	that	was	Man.	Today,	I	promise	you

The	 New	 Ozu,	 strong	 decrees	 for	 a	 strong	 society.	 No	 living	 rulku	 will	 be permitted	 in	 the	 kingdom.	 Only	 approved	 specimens	 will	 be	 bred	 for	 dietary purposes.	 Any	 other	 rulku	 is	 an	 enemy	 of	 the	 king	 and	 subject	 to	 immediate death.”

At	this,	the	animals	cried	out	and	howled,	with	some	notable	exceptions,	like

Moon	Shadow.

“I	also	decree	that	every	land,	no	matter	how	many	oceans	separate	it,	is	the

kingdom	of	Azaz.	As	such,	I	am	the	supreme	ruler.	The	animal	lords	shall	serve

as	 my	 council,	 but	 they	 shall	 not	 make	 any	 decisions	 of	 the	 state	 without	 the approval	 of	 their	 king.	 No	 enlightened	 animal	 shall	 fight	 with	 any	 other enlightened	animal	or	be	subject	to	The	Blood	Paw	and	their	surrogates	on	other

continents.	Finally,	no	animal	tribe	or	kingdom	shall	make	war	with	any	other	or

face	my	wrath.”

The	 animals	 applauded	 their	 first	 tyrant	 the	 way	 the	 rulku	 welcomed	 a newborn	prince.

“But	 animals,”	 King	 Azaz	 said.	 “This	 grand	 feast	 is	 not	 about	 rules,	 but celebration.	 Together,	 we	 will	 dismantle	 the	 weapons	 and	 abodes	 of	 the	 rulku.

We	 will	 learn	 to	 use	 and	 rise	 above	 their	 magic.	 We	 will	 build	 empires	 and navigate	 the	 ocean.	 We	 will	 become	 the	 greatest,	 most	 enlightened	 society	 this

world	has	ever	known.	I	declare	this	The	Year	of	the	Bear	God,	in	my	honor.	I declare	this	The	United	Empire	of	All	Animal	Kind.	I	declare	today	a	day	of	rest

and	 celebration,	 so	 let	 the	 man	 flesh	 fill	 your	 snouts	 and	 the	 pride	 of	 being	 a beast	fill	your	souls.	For	always,	I	am	Azaz,	king	of	kings!”

Bears	 led	 the	 roars	 and	 growls	 of	 approval.	 Wolves	 and	 dogs	 let	 up	 their howls.	Eagles	and	hawks	shrieked,	as	did	owls.

Azaz	 stood	 for	 a	 moment	 before	 Sky	 Death	 ventured	 closer	 to	 him,

whispering	in	the	bear	god’s	ear.

“Our	esteemed	master	of	ceremonies	tells	me	that	the	animal	kingdoms	bring

three	prophets	as	a	gift	for	your	new	king,”	Azaz	announced.	“Let	them	tell	us	of

the	great	empire	we	shall	build!”

The	 first	 prophet,	 Gray	 Eyes,	 emerged	 through	 the	 holosphere.	 He	 used

images	of	smoke	and	fire	to	show	his	prediction	for	the	first	year.	An	elephant

and	an	ape	wrestled,	but	a	bear	won.

“Mighty	king,”	Gray	Eyes	said.	“The	animal	gods	test	you	in	your	first	year

with	small	wars	and	skirmishes,	but	you	vanquish	your	rivals	and	establish	the

first	worldwide	kingdom	Earth	has	ever	known.”

“A	good	prophecy,”	Azaz	said.	“What	is	a	crown	if	one	is	not	willing	to	fight

for	it?”

The	 second	 prophet,	 Methuselah,	 appeared	 in	 a	 shadowy	 form.	 She

manipulated	plant	vines	and	tea	leaves	in	the	holosphere,	showing	Azaz	with	a

mate	 and	 a	 cub.	 “Before	 the	 first	 year	 is	 done,	 animal	 lord,”	 Methuselah	 said,

“you	shall	have	a	mate	and	a	prince	to	succeed	you.”

Azaz	let	out	a	roar	of	approval.	Already	his	mind	had	turned	to	the	question	of

an	heir.	“That	prophecy	beats	the	last,”	he	said.	“Thank	you,	queen	of	all	plants.”

Methuselah	 disappeared	 into	 the	 ether	 of	 the	 holosphere.	 The	 sphere	 closed, and	a	live	bird,	Snow	Prophet,	flew	forward.	He	perched	himself	on	the	last	step,

well	below	the	massive	king	bear.

“Gray	 Eyes	 spoke	 of	 the	 present,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said,	 “and	 he	 is	 right.

Methuselah	 spoke	 of	 the	 near	 future,	 and	 she	 is	 right.	 But	 I,”	 Snow	 Prophet added,	with	a	slight	pause,	for	dramatic	effect,	“I	speak	of	a	future	that	is	farther from	the	shores	of	time.	I	speak	of	the	end.	As	a	prophet,	I	speak	only	Truth.”

The	 animals	 gasped.	 Some	 growled.	 Still,	 Snow	 Prophet	 continued.	 Using

actual	smoke,	he	wove	its	misty	body	into	two	 rulku, 	one	of	whom	held	the	knife that	cut	Azaz.	“The	 rulku	will	rise	again,”	Snow	Prophet	said.	“They	shall	join	a rebellion	 among	 the	 animals.	 The	 ghost	 of	 Fowler	 shall	 appear	 in	 his	 wizard form.	When	that	ghost	appears	in	the	last	battle,	the	hour	of	Azaz	has	come.”

The	animals	fell	silent.	For	a	prophet	to	so	boldly	proclaim	the	end	of	times	in

the	 presence	 of	 the	 new	 king	 was	 unheard	 of.	 Jackdaws	 and	 mountain	 deer

whispered	 amongst	 each	 other:	 surely	 this	 crazy	 snowy	 owl	 had	 a	 death	 wish.

But	 before	 their	 gossip	 entered	 the	 nanosphere,	 Snow	 Prophet	 conjured	 more smoke	 and	 disappeared.	 The	 animals’	 eyes	 searched	 the	 night	 sky,	 but	 nothing was	to	be	found.	All	eyes	turned	to	Azaz.

The	 brilliant	 bear	 god	 illuminated	 the	 night	 sky	 as	 he	 stood	 up.	 “Fear	 not, animals,”	he	said.	“This	is	also	a	favorable	omen.	It	signals	the	end	of	Man.	The

death	of	the	 rulku	heralds	my	immortality.”

The	 animals	 fought	 their	 urge	 to	 be	 silent	 at	 the	 proclamation.	 Forced	 yowls and	 cheers	 took	 the	 air,	 becoming	 louder,	 as	 if	 their	 fear	 took	 auditory	 form	 to feed	itself	still	more.

Azaz	beckoned	Vronkyl.	“Find	and	kill	the	last	prophet,”	he	ordered.	“I	want

his	dead	body	brought	before	me.”

Azaz	then	summoned	White	Claw.	“Brother	bear,”	he	said.	“I	know	we	have

had	 our	 differences.	 But	 the	 slice	 of	 the	 same	 blade	 has	 brought	 us	 together.	 I have	 a	 task	 for	 you	 that	 might	 prove	 your	 loyalty	 and	 would	 make	 me	 appoint you	as	undisputed	lord	of	 Animus.”

White	 Claw	 paused	 before	 finding	 his	 words.	 “I	 am	 honored,	 my	 lord,”	 the polar	bear	king	said.

“My	 scientists	 are	 cracking	 the	 codes	 of	 the	 rulku	 thinking	 machines,”	 Azaz said.	 “Once	 they	 do,	 we	 will	 be	 able	 even	 to	 cross	 the	 waters	 of	 King	 Blu.	 I mean	to	send	some	of	my	most	loyal	Blood	Paw	bears	to	Africa.	My	spies	tell

me	that	Yorba	means	to	avenge	himself	upon	Zulta.	He	blames	the	elephant	king

for	 a	 poison	 that	 nearly	 took	 his	 life.	 I	 worry	 that	 an	 uprising	 between	 the	 two sides	could	trigger	a	war.	I	want	you	to	go	and	explain	this	to	both	parties.	I	will give	you	a	map	of	a	new,	divided	continent.	Each	shall	rule	at	designated	points.

If	 the	 elephant	 king	 and	 the	 ape	 king	 give	 you	 trouble,	 you	 have	 my

authorization	to	kill	them.”

“Yes,	my	king,”	White	Claw	said.

Azaz	 put	 his	 paw	 on	 the	 scars	 from	 Fowler’s	 assault.	 “Do	 well,”	 Azaz	 said,

“and	as	your	prize,	I	will	let	you	give	Fowler	the	killing	blow,	if	the	words	of	the crazy	owl	prophet	come	true.”

White	Claw’s	snout	wrinkled.	He	let	out	a	contented	growl.

Azaz	 then	 descended,	 his	 guards	 at	 his	 side,	 to	 partake	 in	 the	 feast.	 All animals	bowed	before	him.

“Is	it	true	the	heart	of	the	 rulku	warrior	Xavian	burns	here,”	Azaz	asked,	“as	a gift	from	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare?”

The	hawks	presented	Azaz	with	the	requested	prize.

“Let	us	feast,”	he	said.

The	animals	let	up	another	massive	growl,	and	the	feasting	began.



Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

Months	Later

Behind	the	glorious	throne,	the	smoke	from	the	pyres	rose	all	day	and	all	night.

The	 sky	 became	 a	 massive,	 soot-filled	 black	 cloud	 of	 ash.	 It	 was	 said	 by	 the sparrows	 and	 thrushes	 that	 there	 was	 not	 one	 corner	 of	 Azaz’s	 kingdom	 not dominated	by	the	smoke	of	the	crematoria.	A	bird	could	fly	from	coast	to	coast

without	seeing	any	living	 rulku	running	beneath	them.	It	was	called	The	Second Passover	by	historians	of	the	 rulku	like	Snow	Prophet	and	Groth.	Only	this	time, not	even	the	firstborn	were	spared	by	the	mad	bear	god.

Dasu,	the	exalted	mountain	lion,	striped	in	the	scars	of	the	 rulku, 	paraded	up to	the	foot	of	the	last	stair	beneath	Azaz’s	throne.

“Leave	us,”	Azaz	said	to	Freyda,	his	pregnant	grizzly	mate.

As	 sizable	 as	 she	 was	 with	 her	 cub,	 with	 reddish-brown	 grizzly	 fur	 and	 a beautiful	 coat	 that	 shone	 in	 the	 sun,	 even	 Freyda	 looked	 small	 next	 to	 the	 bear god.

“Hunter	of	 Animus,”	Azaz	said.	“My	commander	Vronkyl	and	my	Blood	Paw

have	hunted	down	every	last	 rulku	we	could	find	and	brought	them	to	our	fires.

Your	ability	to	hunt	and	kill	 rulku	is	the	stuff	of	legend.	What	have	you	found?”

“I	have	hunted	all	the	homes	and	native	habitats	of	the	 rulku,”	Dasu	said.	He lowered	his	massive	head	in	deference,	yet	his	yellow-black	eyes	were	as	cold	as

those	of	an	anaconda.	“For	months,	my	mountain	lions,	bobcats,	and	even	your

bears	 have	 hunted	 the	 land	 that	 was	 once	 filled	 with	 rulku. 	 There	 is	 not	 one militia	left.	This	land	is	free	of	their	curse.”

Azaz	 nodded.	 “You	 are	 by	 far	 my	 most	 expedient	 hunter.	 Yet,	 there	 is	 one rulku	that	I	know	lives.	The	beast	they	call	Fowler.	He	gave	me	this	scar,”	Azaz said,	 pointing	 to	 his	 fiery	 snout.	 “Even	 the	 fire	 crown	 has	 not	 healed	 it	 fully.

Fowler	also	gutted	the	mighty	polar	bear	lord,	White	Claw,	leaving	him	for	dead.

Fowler	 killed	 more	 bears	 than	 any	 rulku	 in	 history.	 Yet,	 he	 is	 nowhere?	 He eludes	you	and	your	hunters.”

Dasu	fought	a	growl.	He	looked	up	at	the	high	king	seated	on	his	throne	and

said,	 “We	 checked	 the	 melting	 ices	 of	 the	 North,	 my	 lord,	 as	 you	 commanded.

There	are	only	wild	plants	there	now.	They	are	so	thick	that	not	one	animal	can

pass	them,	let	alone	a	whole	militia	of	 rulku. 	Respectfully,	my	king,	the	snowy

owl’s	prophecy	is	a	false	one.	No	 rulku	can	be	found.”

Azaz	stood	up.	“I	don’t	know	how	Fowler	is	avoiding	you,”	he	said,	“but	he	is

alive.	I	promised	him	we	would	meet	again,	and	it’s	a	promise	I	intend	to	keep.

Keep	hunting.	Keep	searching.	Keep	planting	spies	near	those	plants.”

“It’s	 a	 massive	 territory,	 my	 lord,	 and	 a	 treacherous	 one,”	 Dasu	 said.

“However,	we	can	post	some	crows,	beavers,	and	weasels.”

“Do	 so,”	 Azaz	 ordered.	 “I	 want	 you	 posted	 there	 as	 well,	 out	 of	 sight.	 No rulku	will	defeat	me.	For	always,	I	am	Azaz,	king	of	kings.”

“Yes,	my	king	of	kings,”	Dasu	said.	He	lowered	his	head	in	a	bow	and	headed

off.

Azaz	 watched	 Dasu	 collect	 more	 bears	 and	 mountain	 lions.	 Just	 then,	 Sky Death	flew	to	his	side.

“My	 lord,”	 Sky	 Death	 said.	 “The	 architects	 work	 day	 and	 night.	 They	 have some	designs	to	show	you	about	how	the	new	animal	habitats	for	the	cities	will

look	once	we	tear	down	the	structures	of	the	 rulku. 	There	is	also	another	matter of	business.”

“The	currency?”	Azaz	asked.	“I	thought	we	set	a	monetary	system	in	place	for

each	of	the	kingdoms.”

“You	 did,	 my	 lord,”	 Sky	 Death	 said.	 “It’s	 the	 thinking	 machines.	 King	 Croc has	a	flying	ship	that	will	allow	you	to	hover	over	the	waters.	You	can	visit	all	of your	lands	freely	now.”

“Good.	I	know	which	land	I	will	visit	first,”	Azaz	said,	a	slight	growl	ending

his	sentence.	“Are	White	Claw	and	The	Blood	Paw	ready	to	send	their	legions	to

the	Congo?”

“They	are,	my	lord,”	Sky	Death	said.

“Perfect	timing,”	Azaz	said.	“Zulta	and	Yorba	must	honor	our	agreement,	or	I

will	replace	them	both.”

“Yorba	tests	you,	my	lord,”	Sky	Death	said.	“Our	spies	tell	us	that	he	sends	his

monkeys	 to	 poison	 the	 leaves	 the	 elephants	 depend	 upon	 for	 survival.	 Yorba plans	a	full	invasion	and	a	slaughter	of	the	herds.	Zulta	won’t	touch	anything	that hasn’t	 been	 tested	 first.	 Zulta	 also	 plots	 to	 have	 his	 elephants	 stampede	 the Congo	jungles	and	kill	the	gorillas	and	their	vegetation.”

“That	will	only	stir	up	Methuselah.	It	took	me	forever	to	negotiate	to	have	her

allow	us	to	eat	and	feed	from	the	fruits	of	the	unawakened	plants.	I	will	have	to

humble	the	two	kings,”	Azaz	said.	“Doing	so	will	stir	the	ire	of	the	other	animal

lords.	 Tell	 White	 Claw	 to	 do	 this	 quietly,	 if	 possible.	 I	 don’t	 need	 to	 stir dissension	before	I	have	even	built	my	empire.”

“Yes,	my	lord,”	Sky	Death	said.

“And	the	other	matter—The	Night	Eye,”	Azaz	said.	“Bring	them	to	 Gungsung



Dor	 quietly.	 I	 want	 to	 interrogate	 them	 myself	 when	 I	 return	 from	 my	 grand march.	Tell	Groth	The	Impaler	that	the	kingdom	of	 Yorantul	is	his	until	further notice.	Tell	him	that	I	want	no	ceremonies	or	announcements.	Keep	this	quiet.”

“The	order	will	be	given,	my	lord,”	Sky	Death	said.

“What	of	Thraxis	and	Thunder	Killer?”	Azaz	asked.

“Moon	Shadow	and	the	animals	of	 Animus	protect	Thunder	Killer,”	Sky	Death

said.	“He	hasn’t	been	seen	in	the	skies	in	months.	Thraxis	has	gone	missing.	We

suspect	 that	 the	 snakes	 have	 found	 a	 way	 to	 tunnel	 her	 back	 to	 the	 jungles	 of Sur-Dethson. 	Rumor	has	it	that	she	is	surrounded	by	the	great	river	and	jungles and	that	none	can	touch	her	there.”

“It’s	probably	just	as	well,”	Azaz	said.	“Thraxis	rules	with	an	iron	fist,	which

can	be	useful	in	times	like	these.	Besides,	I	cannot	kill	the	treacherous	lords	yet without	drawing	too	much	ire	from	the	animal	community.	It	will	have	to	wait.”

“Very	wise,	my	lord,”	Sky	Death	said.

“Send	 a	 command	 through	 the	 nanosphere	 announcing	 my	 grand	 march

through	the	kingdoms,”	Azaz	said.	“As	soon	as	that	is	announced,	let	Zulta	and

Yorba	know	that	White	Claw	is	on	his	way.	Any	attack	on	him	is	an	attack	on

me.	Send	notice	to	the	other	animal	lords	as	well.	I	mean	to	send	legions	to	all

continents	to	guard	my	interests.”

“Of	course,	my	lord,”	Sky	Death	said.

“First,	 let	 me	 look	 at	 the	 architect’s	 sketches.	 I	 need	 some	 good	 news	 tonight,”	Azaz	insisted.

Sky	Death	bowed	his	head	and	flew	off.

Azaz	rose.	The	earth	quaked	beneath	him,	and	the	fire	that	was	the	bear	god

danced	 like	 a	 brilliant	 sun	 as	 he	 moved.	 Still,	 he	 kept	 his	 eyes	 all	 about	 him.

There	 was	 something	 in	 Azaz’s	 walk	 that	 announced	 that	 even	 the	 winds	 were subject	 to	 his	 rule,	 and	 something	 else	 that	 suggested	 a	 fear	 that	 even	 those winds	might	betray	him.





CHAPTER	36

Klang	Uktor

Congo,	Africa

The	 giant	 thinking	 machine,	 half	 aircraft	 carrier	 and	 half	 naval	 warship,	 parted the	 waters	 as	 White	 Claw	 and	 The	 Fifth	 Blood	 Paw	 Regiment	 landed	 on	 the beaches	of	 Klang	Uktor. 	The	praetorian	bears	came	first,	stepping	to	the	left	and the	right	to	make	way	for	King	White	Claw,	lord	of	 Animus	and	of	the	northern regions.	 King	 Zulta,	 sporting	 his	 ceremonial	 tattoos,	 and	 an	 entire	 regiment	 of elephants,	trumpeted	the	arrival.	Next	to	Zulta,	Earl	The	Equivocator	and	Slash

stood	in	attendance.

Yanta,	Zulta’s	beloved	heir,	looked	up	at	Zulta	and	asked,	“Are	they	coming	to

take	power,	Father?”

“I	 don’t	 know,	 daughter,”	 Zulta	 said.	 “Azaz	 sends	 his	 Blood	 Paw	 legions everywhere.	He	has	a	special	interest	in	quelling	the	rebellions	in	 Klang	 Uktor.

He	sees	it	as	the	first	test	of	his	powers	as	high	king.”

“So,	we	are	a	conquered	herd?”	Yanta	asked.

“There	is	only	one	king	now,”	Zulta	said.	“But	he	is	a	king	in	name	only.	He

has	not	lived	in	the	Congo	or	eaten	of	its	leaves.	I	will	fight	to	see	that	you	one day	 rule	 the	 same	 jungles	 as	 your	 father.	 Quiet	 now.	 The	 bear	 enforcer approaches.”

White	Claw	came	up	and	bowed	before	the	king	of	the	jungle.

“King	White	Claw,”	Zulta	said.	“I	have	valued	your	counsel	at	our	meetings.

It	is	nice	to	meet	you	animal	to	animal.”

“I	wish	I	could	say	the	same,”	White	Claw	said.	“The	issue	of	Yorba	and	the

lower	Congo	is	most	troubling	to	our	high	king.”

Zulta	ushered	his	guest	away	from	Yanta	and	the	herds	of	elephants	and	their

gigantic	ears.	Earl	and	Slash	stayed	behind,	guarding	from	the	wings.

“Perhaps	we	can	talk	privately	about	the	matter	of	Yorba,”	Zulta	said.

“As	you	wish,”	White	Claw	replied.

The	 praetorian	 bears	 followed	 White	 Claw.	 An	 entire	 legion	 stood	 in

formation	on	the	beach	below	him.

“Perhaps	you	can	show	my	soldiers	to	their	barracks,”	White	Claw	suggested.

Zulta	 signaled	 Yanta	 and	 the	 others	 of	 the	 herd.	 They	 trumpeted	 a	 signal	 and then	went	to	gather	the	visiting	legion.

“How	 long	 does	 King	 Azaz	 plan	 to	 deploy	 his	 legions	 on	 our	 land?”	 Zulta asked.

“As	 long	 as	 is	 necessary	 to	 keep	 the	 peace	 between	 you	 and	 King	 Yorba,”

White	Claw	replied.

Zulta	 brought	 White	 Claw	 the	 long	 way	 to	 Elephant’s	 Cove,	 where	 his	 beds and	 leaves	 and	 running	 rivers	 lied.	 Zulta	 deliberately	 brought	 White	 Claw	 past an	emerging	stone	statue	of	King	Azaz	and	along	two	separate	herds	of	elephants

who	stood	guard	against	the	wave	of	gorilla	attacks.	Spider	monkeys	called	out

as	 they	 labored	 on	 Azaz’s	 grand	 vision,	 creating	 living	 quarters	 for	 all	 animals that	blended	the	 rulku	infrastructure	into	the	natural	world.

“A	 civilization	 is	 being	 born,”	 White	 Claw	 said	 in	 passing.	 “It	 would	 be	 a shame	to	see	such	magnificent	accomplishments	lost	in	a	sea	of	warfare.”

Zulta	ushered	White	Claw	into	Elephant	Cove.	He	made	sure	the	ser-pentine

servants	gave	White	Claw	fresh	water	and	meat	as	they	reclined.

“I	 agree,”	 Zulta	 answered	 at	 last.	 “Once	 I	 eliminate	 my	 problem,	 elephants will	maintain	the	peace	the	jungle	has	known	for	hundreds	of	moon	cycles.”

White	Claw	took	a	sip	of	the	water.	He	gulped	it,	along	with	whatever	words

he	truly	wanted	to	use,	before	saying,	“That	touches	on	the	matter	exactly.	King

Azaz	wishes	to	divide	the	continent	between	you	and	King	Yorba.	He	does	not

wish	for	you	to	engage	in	any	more	surreptitious	attacks.”

Zulta	snorted.	“And	does	King	Azaz	expect	me	to	allow	Yorba’s	incursions	on

territory	 that,	 for	 centuries,	 has	 belonged	 to	 the	 African	 elephant?”	 he	 asked.

“Yorba	kills	even	the	youngest	calves	of	my	herds.	I	cannot	let	this	stand.”

White	Claw	drank	again	and	then	said,	“You	are	wise,	and	I	respect	you,	my

elephant	 lord.	 But	 the	 days	 are	 different	 for	 all	 of	 us	 now.	 We	 can	 no	 longer entertain	 territorial	 disputes.	 All	 land	 is	 animal	 land	 united	 under	 our	 common king.	 Any	 rebellion	 makes	 his	 rule	 look	 that	 much	 more	 compromised.	 This Azaz	 will	 not	 stand	 for.	 He	 asks	 you	 to	 show	 your	 loyalty	 by	 allowing	 him	 to handle	Yorba.	Azaz	offers	his	bears	as	clear	protection	for	your	herds.”

Zulta	said	nothing	at	first.	He	got	up,	paced	to	the	stream,	drank	heavily,	and

then	returned.	“And	do	you	demand	the	same	of	Yorba?”	Zulta	asked.

“Of	 course,”	 White	 Claw	 answered.	 “Even	 though	 Azaz’s	 loyal	 birds	 report that	you	poisoned	the	great	gorilla	king,	provoking	him.”

“He	 has	 since	 poisoned	 many	 of	 the	 trees	 my	 elephants	 depend	 on,”	 Zulta replied.

As	Zulta	spoke,	he	heard	what	he	thought	was	a	misplaced	growl.	Upon	closer

inspection,	as	the	elephant	lord	turned	around,	he	saw	White	Claw	struggling	for



breath.	 The	 massive	 polar	 bear	 coughed	 up	 foaming	 liquid	 along	 with	 sickly nanobots.

Zulta	trumpeted	with	his	thick	trunk,	blasting	out	calls	of	warning.	Yanta	and

the	royal	herd	came	quickly,	up	the	familiar	steps	to	Elephant	Cove.

“What	is	it,	Father?”	Yanta	asked.

“Quickly,	call	our	medicine	animal,	Gray	Eyes,”	Zulta	ordered.	“White	Claw

has	swallowed	some	kind	of	poison.”

Yanta	ran	off	before	the	last	words	were	spoken.

“How	is	this	possible?”	Kwuptu,	one	of	Zulta’s	matriarchs,	asked.

“Don’t	 look	 at	 me	 with	 accusing	 eyes,”	 Zulta	 said.	 “Would	 I	 be	 foolish enough	 to	 poison	 Azaz’s	 envoy?	 Yorba	 must	 have	 struck	 to	 call	 Azaz’s	 full might	down	upon	us.	Hurry!	Do	what	you	can.	This	polar	bear	must	live,	or	we

all	die!”

Kwuptu	quickly	mixed	water	with	some	herbs.	She	gave	the	mixture	to	White

Claw,	who	was	now	on	his	side,	hacking	foaming	water	from	his	system.

“Drink	this,”	Kwuptu	urged.	“It	has	the	power	to	slow	down	many	poisons.	It

will	keep	you	breathing	until	Gray	Eyes	arrives.”

With	that,	the	herd	stood	watch	over	White	Claw.	They	saw	no	broken	foliage,

no	 hints	 as	 to	 how	 the	 assassin	 struck.	 Gray	 Eyes	 slithered	 quickly.	 He	 arrived before	Yanta,	seeing	the	animal	retching	on	the	soil	bed.	Gray	Eyes	quickly	gave

White	 Claw	 nanobots	 capable	 of	 eating	 the	 poison.	 As	 the	 bear	 stopped

coughing	and	vomited	up	the	last	of	the	poison,	Gray	Eyes	turned	to	Kwuptu.

“Your	quick	thinking	saved	this	bear’s	life,”	he	said.	“I	would	not	have	arrived

early	enough.”

“I	am	glad	you	live,”	Zulta	said	to	White	Claw.	“But	this	may	well	visit	death

upon	my	herds.	I	must	eliminate	the	problem	of	Yorba.	The	mad	gorilla	leaves

me	little	choice.”

The	 royal	 herd	 looked	 up	 at	 Zulta.	 The	 question	 lingered,	 though	 unspoken: was	it	wise	to	speak	of	defying	the	high	king’s	orders	with	his	servant	still	on	the ground?	The	elephants	looked	at	one	another.	On	one	thing,	they	all	agreed:	this

would	not	end	well	for	any	of	them.

Ipsa	Dul

Cardiff,	Wales

Azaz	saw	the	brown	bears	bow	in	his	honor	the	moment	he	arrived	for	the	grand

parade.	 Groth	 The	 Impaler,	 newly	 promoted	 to	 animal	 lord	 of	 the	 continent, received	 Azaz	 with	 only	 his	 finest	 troops	 of	 wolves,	 foxes,	 horses,	 and wolverines.	 As	 required,	 the	 squirrels	 and	 moles	 worked	 feverishly	 upon

erecting	a	statue	of	Azaz	made	of	pillars	of	stone.	The	smokestacks	of	the	 rulku bonfires	burned	behind	them,	unnoticed.	The	burgeoning	sculpture	obscuring	the

endlessly	piled	 rulku	bodies	showed	Azaz	standing	over	a	spherical	earth,	raising his	mighty 	 claws	to	the	heavens.	Azaz	passed	by,	complimenting	the	statue.	His first	 legion	 of	 Blood	 Paw	 troops	 marched	 behind	 him,	 branching	 off	 to	 secure the	area.

The	parade	wasn’t	even	half	over	before	Sky	Death	signaled	his	new	master.

Through	 the	 pomp	 and	 furor,	 the	 turkey	 vulture	 spoke	 in	 loud	 and	 discordant gasps.	“I	am	sorry	to	bother	you,	my	king	of	kings,”	Sky	Death	said.	“There	has

been	word	from	 Klang	Uktor. 	White	Claw	was	poisoned	during	the	negotiations with	 Zulta.	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 investigates.	 Zulta	 blames	 Yorba.	 Yorba	 blames Zulta.	Zulta	is	preparing	a	strike	on	gorilla	mountains	well	past	the	perimeter	of the	Congo.”

“Those	two	petty	lords	dare	attack	my	envoy,”	Azaz	roared	over	the	parade.

He	followed	this	with	a	snort	of	disgust	and	a	long,	sky-shattering	growl.

Every	animal	heard	the	master	bear’s	growl.	The	dancing	foxes	missed	a	step,

unsure	 of	 whether	 to	 continue	 their	 ceremony	 or	 to	 stop.	 Groth	 The	 Impaler nodded	at	them.	They	continued,	as	did	the	singing	larks.	The	animals	marched

on	in	their	glorious	parade.

“Summon	Yorba	and	Zulta	to	the	port	of	 Klang	Uktor. 	I	will	meet	with	them personally.”

“As	you	wish,	my	king,”	Sky	Death	said.

The	massive	bear	god,	the	fire	dancing	all	over	him,	marched	up	to	Groth	The

Impaler.	“Thank	you	for	your	greeting	and	for	your	good	work	hunting	down	the

last	 of	 the	 rulku,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “I	 shall	 return	 and	 feast	 with	 you	 one	 day	 to conclude	 this	 march	 of	 victory.	 Yet,	 I	 am	 afraid	 an	 urgent	 matter	 needs	 my immediate	attention.”

“Can	I	be	of	assistance,	my	king?”	Groth	asked.

“Yes,”	Azaz	said.	“My	Blood	Paw	has	a	special	mission.	We	will	need	access

to	the	raven	lords,	The	Night	Eye.”

“My	 lord?”	 Groth	 asked.	 He	 kept	 his	 blank	 facial	 expression,	 so	 as	 not	 to show	his	surprise	at	so	brazen	a	request.

“I	 will	 be	 taking	 them	 with	 me	 for	 a	 meeting	 of	 lords,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “As	 my messenger	Sky	Death	informed	you,	you	will	rule	in	their	stead.”

“I’m	honored,	sir,”	Groth	said.	“But	there	is	one	issue	I	hoped	to	speak	to	you

about.	In	the	absence	of	the	 rulku, 	the	outer	colonies	are	suffering	for	food.”





“They	may	soon	have	animal	meat,”	Azaz	said.	“Right	now,	I	must	go.”	Azaz

marched	off.	Groth	stared	after	him.	In	only	a	matter	of	months,	The	Night	Eye

went	 from	 one	 of	 the	 most	 powerful	 intelligences	 in	 the	 world	 to	 a	 tattered collection	of	raven	skin	and	bones	held	in	The	Tower.	Now,	they	would	certainly

be	subject	to	slaughter.	Groth	had	impaled	many	 rulku	bodies,	but	he	had	always looked	his	prey	in	the	eye	before	going	for	the	kill.	Never	had	he	seen	anything

as	 cruel	 as	 the	 plague	 bombs,	 as	 the	 bodies	 of	 the	 rulku, 	 piled	 beyond	 all numbers,	and	of	the	treatment	of	his	former	lords.	Groth’s	hardy	stomach	turned

within	 him.	 Yet,	 he	 stood	 at	 attention,	 watching	 this	 massive	 brute	 pass.	 Groth was	 as	 fearless	 a	 wolverine	 as	 any	 animal	 to	 bear	 the	 name.	 Even	 so,	 he recognized	a	true	monster	when	he	saw	one.	This	king	of	kings,	wrapped	all	in

fire,	could	snap	even	the	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	in	two	if	he	wished	to.	And	so,	Groth

stood	there,	feeling	more	powerless	than	he	had	ever	felt,	in	a	position	of	greater power	than	he	had	ever	known.

CHAPTER	37

Klang-Uktor

Congo,	Africa

The	Blood	Paw	kept	Zulta	The	Elephant	King	at	one	end	of	the	port	and	Yorba

The	 Ape	 King	 at	 the	 other.	 Zulta’s	 royal	 herd	 stood	 ceremonially	 by	 their	 king and	ruler,	and	Yorba	stood	with	Kama	and	a	few	of	his	closest	apes.	Gray	Eyes

still	nursed	White	Claw,	and	both	sent	a	silent	message	in	their	absence.	No	one

spoke.	No	music	played.	Instead,	all	awaited	Azaz,	trembling	ever	so	slightly,	as

if	awaiting	the	Hindu	goddess	Kali,	the	Demon	Slayer,	in	animal	form.

Zulta	and	Yorba	did	not	wait	long.	Azaz’s	largest	thinking	machine,	the	great

battleship	 Tunkon	 Ri, 	 translated	 loosely	 as	 Fire	 Bear’s	 Paw, 	 parted	 even	 the largest	waves	of	an	active	and	turbulent	ocean.	Storm	winds	circulated,	but	even

they	 retreated	 in	 the	 presence	 of	 the	 sacred	 fire	 bear.	 Azaz	 marched	 off	 the battleship	with	fearsome	rigor.	Zulta	and	Yorba	kept	their	heads	bowed	as	Azaz

paced	back	and	forth.

“How	 is	 White	 Claw?”	 Azaz	 asked	 Frendyl,	 the	 ranking	 Blood	 Paw	 officer.

“The	 snake	 healer	 has	 brought	 him	 back	 from	 the	 brink	 of	 death,”	 Frendyl answered.	“He	will	live.”

“Any	 progress	 in	 determining	 who	 is	 responsible,	 Colonel?”	 Azaz	 asked.

Frendyl	growled	and	said,	“Not	much,	my	lord.	The	snake	that	served	the	water

has	 been	 interrogated	 and	 killed.	 She	 insisted	 that	 Yorba	 bribed	 her	 with	 a permanent	position	in	the	royal	household.	We	also	found	the	food	to	have	been

poisoned.	 The	 snake	 that	 served	 the	 food	 was	 also	 interrogated	 before	 he	 was killed.	 He	 swore	 Zulta	 paid	 him.	 I	 would	 not	 be	 surprised	 if	 each	 animal	 lord tried	to	set	up	the	other	so	that	they	would	incur	your	wrath,	my	majesty.”

“And	to	give	themselves	exclusive	control	of	the	continent,”	Azaz	said.

“Exactly,	my	king	of	kings,”	Frendyl	said.

Azaz	approached	Zulta	The	Elephant	King	first.	Though	arrayed	in	fine	silk,	a

laurel,	 and	 tattoos	 marking	 his	 many	 victories	 in	 battle,	 Zulta,	 the	 largest	 land animal	 on	 earth,	 looked	 somehow	 smaller	 standing	 next	 to	 the	 bear	 god.	 Azaz was	one	of	the	few	who	could	look	the	elephant	lord	in	the	eyes.

“What	do	you	have	to	say	for	yourself,	elephant	lord?”	Azaz	asked.	“Why	is	it

that	 one	 of	 my	 trusted	 warriors,	 my	 personal	 envoy,	 cannot	 be	 kept	 free	 from harm	 while	 in	 your	 personal	 care?	 Does	 that	 not	 look	 like	 weakness	 to	 you?

Either	you	can’t	keep	assassins	from	your	court,	or	you	hired	them	yourself.”

“Respectfully,	my	king	of	kings,”	Zulta	said.	“Yorba	knew	of	the	arrival.	He

seized	an	opportunity	I	could	not	have	anticipated.	If	you	would	let	me	just	take

care	 of	 Yorba,	 I	 promise	 you	 that	 there	 will	 be	 no	 more	 problems	 within	 the borders	of	my	kingdom.”

“An	opportunity	you	could	not	have	anticipated?”	Azaz	asked.	He	leaned	in,

his	 snout	 uncomfortably	 close	 to	 Zulta’s	 tusks,	 as	 he	 said,	 “Your	 emissaries complain	 to	 me	 about	 how	 Yorba	 poisons	 the	 trees	 that	 your	 herds	 feed	 from.

How	could	you	 not	anticipate	this?	A	true	king	is	prepared	for	any	outcome,	no matter	how	grim.”

“Yes,	my	lord,”	Zulta	said.

“The	elephant	lies,”	Yorba	yelled	from	across	the	port.	“He	is	without	courage

or	 honor.	 My	 apes	 had	 no	 hand	 in	 his	 sloppy	 handling	 of	 his	 servants.	 It	 is	 an easy	lie	to	tell,	a	feeble	excuse	from	a	weak	king.	Let	me	face	Zulta	in	the	cage

of	battle.	Let	the	true	king	prevail.”

Azaz	approached	Yorba.	Not	many	could	make	the	mighty	gorilla	look	up.

Gazing	up	at	Azaz	The	Bear	God	was	exactly	what	Yorba	needed	to	do.

“I	 am	 the	 true	 king	 of	 kings,”	 Azaz	 said	 to	 Yorba.	 “You	 rule	 as	 lords	 at	 my discretion.	Right	now,	I	see	an	ape	who	cannot	control	himself	and	an	elephant

who	has	lost	control	of	his	kingdom.”

“Not	so,	Azaz,”	Yorba	said.	“You	forget	that	it	was	I	who	defeated	the	 rulku

general	Uzwali	for	you.	It	was	I	who	earned	the	right	to	be	king.”

“Step	forward,”	Azaz	ordered.

“What?”	Yorba	asked	incredulously.

“Both	of	you,”	Azaz	called	with	a	growl	loud	enough	to	set	the	winds	on	fire.

“Step	forward!”

Yorba	moved	first,	eying	Azaz	and	huffing	the	whole	time.	Zulta	moved	only

when	Azaz	gazed	upon	him,	gingerly	making	his	way	to	the	center	of	the	line.

Both	stood	shoulder	to	tusk.

“I	gave	you	a	direct	order—there	would	be	no	more	conflicts,”	Azaz	said.	His

voice,	 half-growl,	 half-proclamation,	 carried	 through	 the	 air	 like	 wayward thunder.	 “I	 divided	 the	 continent	 between	 you.	 I	 can	 see	 that	 you	 mistook	 my kindness	for	weakness.	I	can	see	that	both	of	you	need	to	be	reminded	who	is	the

king	 of	 all	 animals.	 Very	 well,	 then.	 You	 will	 both	 pay	 for	 this	 insult	 to	 my sovereignty.”

Thunder	 and	 clouds	 blotted	 the	 stark	 sun	 overhead	 as	 the	 mammoth	 red

nanobots	ascended	from	the	fire	crown	on	Azaz’s	head.	The	nanobots	formed	a

perverse	 circle	 above	 him,	 like	 an	 inverted	 halo	 of	 fire.	 Azaz’s	 eyes	 became white	as	lightning.	The	fires	that	made	up	his	massive	bear’s	body	became	gold

and	 then	 white.	 All	 around	 him,	 the	 earth	 shook.	 The	 skies	 opened	 up.	 Azaz commanded	a	jagged	bolt	from	the	heavens	down	on	Zulta,	taking	off	half	of	his

remaining	tusk.	A	second	bolt	came	down	upon	Yorba,	scarring	him	in	serrated

black	ash	down	his	face	and	chest.	Both	animal	lords	howled	in	pain,	kneeling.

The	 royal	 elephant	 herd	 protested,	 trumpeting	 and	 stomping,	 marching	 to

surround	its	king.	Azaz	rose	and	with	a	single	swipe	of	his	paw	sent	a	message

to	their	nanobots	that	threw	the	elephants	all	back	and	off	of	their	mighty	legs.

The	gorillas	also	ran	towards	Azaz.	With	another	swipe	of	his	paw,	Azaz	called	a

tornado	funnel	from	the	heavens.	Azaz	ordered	the	red	nanobots	to	keep	the	apes

in	 place	 as	 the	 winds	 came	 through,	 lifting	 them	 up	 to	 the	 heavens	 and	 then depositing	them	to	the	ground.

“Think	of	me	as	your	god,”	Azaz	said.	His	voice	now	echoed	throughout	the

nanosphere,	 so	 loud	 that	 the	 elephants	 had	 to	 fold	 their	 ears.	 “I	 speak	 to	 all animal	lords	now,	so	that	you	know	that	I	alone	am	king.	I	will	not	tolerate	any

battle	 among	 the	 animals.	 Likewise,	 I	 will	 not	 tolerate	 any	 disobedience.	 Any failure	to	obey	will	be	met	with	death.”

“Choose,”	Azaz	said	to	Yorba	as	the	gorilla	lord	kneeled	before	the	great	bear.

“Choose	what,	your	majesty?”	Yorba	asked.

“Choose	 which	 half	 of	 your	 apes	 live	 and	 which	 half	 die,”	 Azaz	 replied.

“Please.	 I	 am	 sorry,	 my	 king,”	 Yorba	 said,	 bristling,	 still	 on	 fire	 from	 his	 fresh scars.	“I	shall	insult	you	no	further.”





Azaz	 waved	 his	 right	 paw.	 At	 the	 behest	 of	 Azaz’s	 red	 ruling	 nanobots,	 the nanobots	 living	 symbiotically	 with	 the	 apes	 turned	 on	 their	 masters.	 They poisoned	 them	 the	 same	 way	 White	 Claw	 had	 been	 poisoned.	 The	 apes	 fell, calling	out	for	the	aid	of	their	former	king.

The	elephants	fared	no	better.	Azaz,	with	another	thrust	of	his	paw,	lifted	half

of	the	royal	herd	up.

“Choose,”	Azaz	said	to	Zulta.

“Please	don’t	hurt	my	daughter,	Yanta,”	Zulta	said,	kneeling	before	the	king	of

kings.	“She	is	my	only	hope	for	a	strong	matriarch	in	the	herd.	And	please	spare

Kwuptu.	She	saved	White	Claw’s	life.”

“Very	 well,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “Since	 you	 have	 done	 as	 I	 commanded,	 since	 you have	chosen,	I	will	spare	your	two	most	precious	family	members.”

Half	 of	 the	 remaining	 elephants,	 including	 ranking	 females	 in	 the	 herd,	 fell, trumpeting,	 blasting	 stridently	 with	 their	 trunks	 in	 a	 call	 for	 mercy.	 Within moments,	their	mouths	foamed,	and	they	died	of	the	same	poison	that	overtook

White	Claw.

The	gorillas	and	elephants	huddled	separately	and	wailed.

“This	will	be	the	last	time	I	show	you	such	mercy,”	Azaz	said.	“My	word	is

absolute.	I	have	chosen	to	divide	the	continent.	I	will	not	risk	another	war	over

your	 petty	 squabbles	 for	 power.	 You	 will	 honor	 my	 orders.	 If	 you	 do	 not,	 the next	time	I	come	here,	I	will	kill	the	entire	royal	herd	and	every	royal	mountain

gorilla.	 I	 will	 behead	 you	 and	 put	 new	 lords	 in	 both	 of	 your	 places	 as	 your rotting	heads	look	on	from	pikes.	Is	that	understood?”

“Yes,	my	lord,”	Zulta	said,	still	shuddering	over	the	fates	of	his	brothers	and

sisters.

“Completely,	my	lord,”	Yorba	said,	trembling	as	he	bowed.

“Good,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “Incinerate	 the	 dead,”	 he	 ordered	 the	 surrounding	 Blood Paw	guards.	“You,”	he	said	to	Frendyl,	“take	me	to	see	White	Claw.	I	wish	to	see

at	least	one	loyal	animal	lord	before	I	go.	Then	I	shall	continue	my	grand	march,

uninterrupted,”	 he	 called	 back	 to	 Zulta	 and	 Yorba,	 who	 didn’t	 dare	 rise	 from their	knees.

CHAPTER	38

Gungsung	Dor

Bear	Mountain,	Rockies,	USA

Six	Months	Later

The	 Grand	 March,	 as	 Azaz	 ordered	 his	 historians	 to	 refer	 to	 it,	 met	 with	 no resistance	after	the	animal	lords	of	the	world	saw	how	easily	the	king	of	kings

toppled	 a	 mighty	 elephant	 lord	 and	 an	 ape	 ruler.	 Always,	 Azaz	 did	 not	 come alone.	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 grew	 in	 size,	 and	 bears	 were	 posted	 to	 all	 kingdoms	 to facilitate	 the	 transition	 process.	 None	 of	 the	 animal	 lords	 dared	 to	 object.	 King Croc	 was	 gracious	 but	 evasive	 when	 it	 came	 to	 the	 intentions	 of	 King	 Blu.

Thraxis	feigned	sickness,	but	emerged	from	the	jungle	in	her	holographic	form

to	kneel	before	Azaz.	The	kingdom	of	 Animus	stood	behind	Moon	Shadow,	who

reminded	Azaz	of	her	animals’	needs,	despite	the	distant	White	Claw	replacing

her	 as	 sole	 king	 of	 her	 own	 kingdom.	 And	 then	 there	 was	 Yu	 The	 Golden Nightmare.	 After	 Azaz	 congratulated	 him	 on	 his	 improving	 health	 and	 on

containing	and	conquering	the	animal	virus,	he	berated	the	giant	panda	emperor

for	not	killing	the	 rulku	as	efficiently	as	he	had.	The	suggestion	that	The	Golden Nightmare	 hid 	 rulku	 in	 collusion	 with	 The	 Night	 Eye	 in	 Siberia	 and	 that	 The Blood	Paw	would 	 be	stationed	to	assist	in	the	extermination	did	not	sit	well	with the	 animals	 of	 the	 former	 Asia.	 Yet,	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 bowed	 and	 paid homage,	 as	 did	 all	 the	 animal	 lords.	 Even	 as	 The	 Blood	 Paw	 hunted	 the	 few rulku	still	alive	in	Siberia,	needlessly	slaughtering	them.

Underneath	 all	 the	 fawning,	 there	 were	 fangs.	 The	 dread	 of	 Azaz	 exceeded any	joy	regarding	the	end	of	the	war.	Always,	there	were	questions	about	greater

food	supplies	and	greater	access	to	the	architects	to	meet	the	animals’	communal

needs.	Truly,	Azaz	was	a	great	king:	he	created	currency;	he	consulted	with	King

Blu	 and	 built	 navigation	 systems	 to	 move	 trade	 between	 kingdoms;	 he

negotiated	food	with	Methuselah;	he	built	animal	cities	and	gave	animals	access

to	thinking	machines.	In	many	ways,	Azaz	was	the	Ataturk	of	the	animal	world.

But	always	there	was	the	question	behind	the	buried	fangs:	how	long	can	this

mad	pharaoh’s	tyranny	last?

Perhaps	no	act	of	aggression	ignited	the	ire	of	the	animal	lords	so	much	as	the

abduction	of	The	Night	Eye.	Before	Azaz’s	reign,	The	Night	Eye	were	perched

to	 be	 the	 information	 conduit	 of	 the	 world.	 They	 were	 essentially	 the	 animal equivalent	of	the	 rulku	secret	service,	with	information	on	the	doings	of	all	the animals	 throughout	 the	 kingdoms.	 The	 network	 of	 spies	 they	 built	 up	 was unparalleled.	But	after	the	fall	of	Adar	Llwch	Gwin,	their	fate	was	sealed.	They

spent	their	days	waiting	in	a	dark	Bear	Mountain	prison	cell	with	barely	enough

food	to	keep	even	the	smallest	of	the	crows	alive.

When	 Azaz	 opened	 the	 cell	 door	 that	 the	 Blood	 Paw	 guarded	 so	 zealously, The	Night	Eye	cried	at	seeing	sunlight	for	the	first	time	in	six	months.

Azaz,	his	own	brilliant	light	ablaze,	entered,	fully	armed.	He	brought	Vronkyl

with	him.

“Lock	the	cell	door,”	Azaz	called	to	the	bears	behind	them.

“It	is	of	no	use,	my	king,”	The	Night	Eye	said,	motionless,	unable	to	fly.	“We

haven’t	the	strength	to	fly	to	freedom,	even	if	you	offered	it	to	us.”

“Perhaps	you	know	why	you	are	here?”	Azaz	asked.

Only	a	few	ravens	did	the	speaking	now,	in	the	 Osine	of	old.	The	first,	Mother Raven,	 said	 only,	 “Because	 our	 ambitions	 got	 the	 better	 of	 us.	 We	 fashioned	 a beast	that	nearly	killed	our	future	king.”

“Is	that	what	The	Blood	Paw	told	you?”	Azaz	asked.

“No,	 my	 lord,”	 the	 other	 raven	 said.	 “The	 Blood	 Paw	 told	 us	 nothing.	 They simply	 killed	 as	 many	 of	 us	 as	 they	 could	 before	 we	 stopped	 swarming	 and ceased	attacking	their	eyes.	They	killed	all	attacking	birds	and	abducted	the	rest of	us	from	The	Tower	to	your	palace.”

“Then	they’re	doing	their	jobs	right,”	Azaz	said.	“As	hard	as	it	is	for	you	to

believe,	the	reason	you’re	here	has	nothing	to	do	with	Adar	Llwch	Gwin	or	the

fact	that	you	bribed	one	of	my	best	bears,	Hulkul,	to	poison	me	where	I	stood.	I

would	have	simply	killed	you	for	that.	The	reason	you’re	alive	is	that	you	kept

from	 me	 some	 vital	 information	 you	 had	 no	 right	 to	 keep	 hidden	 from	 your king.”

The	 Night	 Eye	 gulped,	 looking	 at	 each	 other.	 They	 held	 many	 secrets	 Azaz would	 not	 know.	 Which	 one	 could	 he	 possibly	 be	 referring	 to?	 Not	 even	 the most	clever	raven	knew.

“My	lord?”	they	asked	collectively.

“Fowler	and	the	war	criminal	Brigand,”	Azaz	said.	“How	many	of	my	bears

have	been	scarred	or	killed	by	them?	One	directly	attacked	your	king.	The	other

put	more	awakened	animals	into	the	crematoria	than	we	have	put	 rulku	into	the hungry	 flames.	 Yet,	 you	 know	 something,	 and	 you	 keep	 it	 from	 the	 king	 who would	command	your	loyalty.	Why?”

“We	had	only	suspicions,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Our	spies	needed	more	time

to	confirm	the	intel.”

“What	intel,	exactly?”	Azaz	demanded.

The	 Night	 Eye	 kept	 quiet.	 They	 spoke	 in	 a	 raven	 dialect	 only	 they	 would understand.

Azaz	 raised	 a	 paw.	 The	 nanobots	 surrounding	 the	 ravens	 swarmed	 on	 one

decrepit	bird,	eating	it	whole	as	the	other	ravens	watched.

“What	intel?”	Azaz	asked	again.	“If	you	cannot	provide	me	with	any	info,	you are	 of	 no	 use	 to	 me.	 I	 will	 find	 and	 kill	 the	 rulku, anyway.	 You	 will	 just	 die before	I	do.”

“Spare	our	lives	and	our	families,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Feed	us,	and	we	will

do	 more	 than	 tell	 you.	 We	 will	 fly	 you	 to	 where	 the	 last	 living	 rulku	 colony resides.”

The	assertiveness	of	the	ravens	struck	Azaz.	“Perhaps	you	mean	to	trick	me?”

he	asked.

“How	can	one	trick	a	god?”	Mother	Raven	replied.

The	statement,	so	simple	and	direct,	appeased	Azaz’s	enormous	ego.

“Well	said,”	Azaz	replied.	“I	may	have	a	use	for	you	after	all.”

The	 ravens	 and	 crows	 bowed	 their	 beaks	 to	 the	 earthy	 floor.	 “We	 have	 seen your	power,	great	king,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“We	beg	you	to	show	us	no	more.

We	will	do	as	you	command	us.”

“How	many	other	animals	know	of	this	secret?”	Azaz	asked.

“Of	the	 rulku	colony?	Only	our	nanobots,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“We	lost	our best	spies	to	you	after	the	war.”

“Not	even	Groth	The	Impaler	knows?”	Azaz	asked.

“No,	 my	 lord,”	 The	 Night	 Eye	 said	 in	 reply.	 “We	 knew	 that	 you	 would	 be angry	with	us.	We	kept	this	info	to	one	day	barter	for	our	lives.”

“That	 was	 wise,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “But	 tell	 me:	 Where	 exactly	 would	 you	 lead me?”

The	 Night	 Eye	 looked	 at	 each	 other.	 They	 now	 knew	 not	 to	 speak	 in	 a

language	foreign	to	their	king.

“Do	we	have	an	agreement?”	The	Night	Eye	asked.

“You	 have	 a	 choice:	 trust	 that	 I	 may	 let	 you	 and	 your	 families	 live	 or	 face certain	death.”

“Just	past	Polar	Pass,	just	past	 Animus,	by	the	ocean,	beneath	the	fresh	forest of	plants,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“We	know	the	way	in.”

“Where	is	that	way	in?”	Azaz	asked.

The	 Night	 Eye	 fluttered	 one	 last	 time.	 “To	 know	 that,”	 Mother	 Raven	 said,

“you	have	a	choice,	wise	king	of	kings:	bring	us	there	and	let	us	show	you	and

then	 fly	 free.	 Or	 kill	 us	 here	 and	 waste	 months	 finding	 the	 right	 passage	 while the	 rulku	are	alerted	to	your	presence	and	prepare	for	the	fight.	We	know	what awaits	 you.	 Speak	 to	 White	 Claw.	 The	 rulku	 wizard	 has	 powers	 that	 may	 even rival	your	own.”

Azaz	lifted	a	paw.	He	crushed	The	Night	Eye	ever	so	slightly.	They	squawked.

Still,	 they	 knew	 that	 they	 were	 in	 no	 lasting	 danger.	 The	 info	 they	 possessed would	wet	the	palate	of	even	the	most	hardened	version	of	the	mad	bear	king.



The	 bear	 god	 released	 them.	 “Very	 well,”	 he	 said.	 “But	 if	 I	 find	 that	 you’re lying	 to	 save	 yourselves	 or	 to	 trick	 me,	 there	 is	 nowhere	 in	 the	 skies	 or	 on	 the earth	that	you	can	flee.	I	will	hunt	you,	and	I	will	kill	you	and	all	of	your	kind, starting	with	your	families.”

“We	understand,	king	of	kings,”	The	Night	Eye	said,	bowing	once	more.

“Feed	them,”	Azaz	said	to	his	Blood	Paw	guards,	“but	keep	them	under	close

watch.	We	head	out	tomorrow	to	finally	end	this	war.”

No	Rul	Ozu

Inyo	County,	California

Nurvlyn	sat,	analyzing	the	beauty	of	the	human	body	for	a	moment	before	losing

it	 forever.	 The	 perfectly	 synchronized	 rhythmic	 breathing,	 the	 flexibility	 of	 the hands,	the	wonder	of	the	human	brain,	even	the	callused	skin	that	swept	like	an

ocean	 around	 him,	 holding	 his	 heart	 in:	 everything	 was	 miraculous.	 No	 matter how	much	Azaz	tried	to	wash	humanity	from	the	soils	of	the	earth,	that	miracle

remained.	 One	 species	 survived	 to	 create	 civilization,	 to	 harvest	 the	 earth,	 to reach	the	stars,	to	show	what	life	could	be	for	all	species	that	might	follow.	Great lizards	 like	 dinosaurs	 may	 have	 reigned	 longer;	 noble	 creatures	 of	 the	 sea	 like whales	might	have	been	as	intelligent	as	the	ocean	itself.	Yet,	only	one	species

brought	science,	religion,	math,	and	astronomy	to	this	world	and	made	it	shine.

When	 the	 history	 of	 this	 world	 is	 recorded,	 humanity	 will	 never	 lose	 that distinction.	Nurvlyn	was	honored	to	have	been	human,	just	as	he	was	honored	to

be	evolving	into	something	more.

Nurvlyn	 felt	 every	 breeze	 painfully,	 saw	 every	 patch	 of	 grass,	 every	 tree,	 as sacred	 wonder,	 so	 in	 love	 was	 he	 with	 Creation.	 There	 was	 no	 separation between	 Nurvlyn	 and	 the	 smallest	 ant	 that	 crawled	 the	 world	 that	 could	 not	 be bridged	by	the	union	they	shared.	They	were	a	part	of	Gaia,	a	part	of	life,	a	part of	The	Holy	Spirit	of	all	that	was.	The	plants	understood	that.	They	joined	with

nature	 at	 its	 very	 roots.	 They	 cared	 not	 for	 crowns	 or	 power	 or	 control.	 The plants	 cared	 for	 the	 sun	 and	 for	 the	 soil	 and	 for	 their	 fruits.	 They	 didn’t	 see themselves	 as	 separate	 or	 above.	 Had	 he	 a	 dozen	 lifetimes	 to	 give,	 Nurvlyn could	have	learned	so	much	more	from	their	world.	But	Methuselah	was	calling,

and	the	hour	was	at	hand.

“Are	you	ready,	Nurvlyn?”	Methuselah	asked.

“This	body	is	almost	at	its	end,”	Nurvlyn	answered.	“I	hate	to	leave	it,	but	I

love	what	follows.”

“You	 truly	 are	 one	 of	 us,”	 Methuselah	 said.	 “Your	 consciousness	 will	 join with	the	sands	of	the	desert,	and	those	of	the	sea,	but	from	those	sands	will	grow the	first	planetary	consciousness	this	world	has	ever	known,	in	time.	You	will	be

reborn	 to	 speak	 to	 that	 consciousness,	 to	 the	 holy	 will	 of	 Avrah	 herself.	 First, there	is	one	last	act	you	must	perform	as	the	father	of	all	awakened	animals.”

“What	is	that?”	Nurvlyn	asked.

“You’ve	been	communing	 with	nature	for	 so	long,	perhaps	 you	didn’t	hear,”

Methuselah	said.	“The	mobiles	are	at	it	again.	The	crown’s	king,	Azaz,	means	to

strike	 the	 last	 human	 establishment	 not	 already	 consumed	 by	 fire.	 Many	 of	 my brothers	 and	 sisters	 are	 prepared	 to	 offer	 their	 lives	 for	 the	 caretakers	 of	 their children.	 Yet,	 the	 mobiles	 must	 be	 warned.	 They	 must	 be	 ready	 for	 the	 fight.

They	must	know	that	your	time	is	at	hand.”

Nurvlyn	sighed.	He	felt	so	distant	from	fighting	for	power	and	glory.	Yet,	he

knew	that	Methuselah	was	right.

“Let	me	speak	in	the	 rulku	nanosphere,”	Nurvlyn	said.	“Give	me	some	more

of	your	wisdom,	Methuselah,	before	I	leave	this	body.”

Smoke	appeared.	In	a	vision,	Nurvlyn	saw	the	marching	bear	and	the	ravens

that	 led	 him.	 He	 saw	 Fowler	 and	 Brigand	 and	 the	 humans	 that	 worked

underneath	the	plants.	They	ate	what	the	natural	world	offered,	never	asking	for

more.	 These	 rulku	 didn’t	 pollute	 but	 used	 every	 last	 ounce	 of	 a	 plant	 and	 ate meat	 only	 when	 an	 unawakened	 animal	 met	 its	 end.	 They	 still	 had	 their

weapons,	and	the	nanobots	still	swarmed	about	them,	but	they	were	able	to	make

plants	taste	of	any	flavor,	and	they	were	able	to	purify	and	drink	rainwater	left

over	 by	 the	 plants.	 There	 was	 a	 beauty	 to	 their	 simple	 lives,	 one	 Nurvlyn admired.

“They’ve	come	so	far,”	Nurvlyn	said.

“They	 and	 their	 wisdom	 are	 worth	 saving,”	 Methuselah	 said	 in	 agreement.

Nurvlyn	closed	his	eyes,	communing	with	his	nanobots.	They	glowed	blue	and

gold	 as	 Nurvlyn	 readied	 his	 words.	 Quicker	 than	 a	 flash	 of	 lightning,	 Nurvlyn said,	“Greetings	and	congratulations	to	those	who	survived	Azaz’s	Great	Purge.

You	have	learned	to	live	with	nature	as	you	would	with	a	mother	or	father	and	to

respect	 the	 world	 around	 you.	 In	 the	 soil,	 you	 have	 found	 your	 souls.	 Yet,	 the war	 is	 not	 over.	 Even	 now,	 Azaz,	 ablaze	 with	 his	 Crown	 Of	 Fire,	 approaches with	 his	 full	 military	 might.	 He	 seeks	 to	 commit	 every	 sin	 mankind	 ever committed	 and	 then	 some.	 Azaz	 seeks	 to	 render	 humanity	 extinct,	 to	 avenge himself	on	Fowler	and	Brigand.	The	plants	have	sworn	their	lives	to	protect	you

so	that	you	may	help	raise	their	children.	Yet,	Azaz	will	tear	through.	Only	the

warrior	 wizard	 can	 face	 him,	 with	 the	 help	 of	 the	 animals.	 My	 words	 will	 be



with	 you,	 but	 not	 my	 body.	 I	 am	 dying.	 By	 the	 time	 the	 attack	 happens,	 I	 will join	with	the	sands	of	the	desert	until	my	spirit	is	reborn.	You	must	fight	until	the animals	arrive	to	assist	you.”

Thousands	of	miles	away,	Brigand	and	Fowler	looked	at	one	another.

Fowler	sat,	communing	with	his	nanobots	and	with	the	surrounding	plants.

The	 plants	 assured	 Fowler	 that	 the	 message	 from	 Nurvlyn	 was	 authentic.

“Nurvlyn	is	right,”	Fowler	said.	“We	must	prepare	for	battle.”

After	months	of	living	in	peace,	Brigand	did	not	miss	war.	Yet,	he	understood

that	just	as	he	had	prepared	to	fire	the	first	shot	in	this	war,	he	must	also	fire	the last.

“I	don’t	know	if	we	stand	a	chance,”	Brigand	said.	“But	Azaz	has	torn	the	soul

from	this	world.	He	must	be	stopped,	if	this	world	is	to	survive.”

“We	will	not	have	to	endure	the	first	wave	of	battle	alone,”	Fowler	said,	“nor

the	last.	I	sense	the	animals	are	meeting.	We	will	soon	have	allies	against	Azaz.”

Brigand	nodded.	“I	will	ready	the	men	and	women	and	ready	our	weapons,”

he	said.	“When	will	Azaz	arrive?”

“He	means	to	strike	tomorrow,”	Fowler	said.	“There	are	no	snows	or	blizzards

left	to	protect	us.”

“Then	 we	 will	 work	 through	 the	 night,”	 Brigand	 said.	 “We	 will	 be	 ready.”

Nurvlyn	fought	to	hold	on	longer,	to	hear	the	words	that	were	said.	Yet,	he	felt

like	a	ghost	gliding	through	lands	that	no	longer	looked	the	same	to	him.

Death	 was	 calling	 like	 a	 gentle	 wind,	 and	 it	 was	 a	 call	 he	 could	 no	 longer ignore.

“The	 rulku	 heard	 my	 message,”	 Nurvlyn	 said	 to	 Methuselah.	 “Goodbye,	 my old	friend.	Thank	you	for	letting	me	live	here	and	learn	from	you.”

“The	earth	belongs	to	all	of	us	and	none	of	us,”	Methuselah	said.	“But	you	are

welcome.	Goodbye,	my	friend.	I	shall	see	you	shortly	in	all	that	is.”

With	that,	the	plants	sang	in	the	wafting	breeze.	The	sands	stirred	and	danced.

Even	the	clouds	dazzled	in	the	sky.	It	was	a	perfect	day	to	live	and	an	even	better day	to	die.	And	so,	Nurvlyn	closed	his	eyes	and	joined	peacefully	with	Creation.





CHAPTER	39

Rul-Seerus

Mount	Asgard

Nunavut,	Canada

Moon	 Shadow	 climbed	 through	 the	 last	 of	 the	 snow	 up	 the	 peaks	 of	 Mount Asgard.	She	had	barely	ascended	the	lowest	steppe	of	the	great	mountain	when

the	massive,	fluttering	wings	of	the	snowy	owl	eclipsed	her.

“You	 come	 seeking	 answers,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said,	 descending	 to	 the	 lowest

peak,	 next	 to	 Moon	 Shadow.	 “Yet,	 the	 future	 pierces	 like	 ice	 on	 the	 tip	 of	 an eagle’s	wing.	We	have	had	this	conversation	before.	Did	I	not	tell	you	that	only

when	 you	 cry	 out	 under	 the	 same	 moon,	 with	 a	 thousand	 animals	 and	 rulku	 at your	 side	 will	 this	 war	 of	 the	 animals	 end?	 It	 is	 time	 for	 that	 prophecy	 to	 be fulfilled.”

“But	how,	wise	prophet?”	Moon	Shadow	asked.	“We	have	all	seen	the	might

of	 Azaz	 The	 Bear	 God	 firsthand.	 His	 Blood	 Paw	 has	 spread	 throughout	 the world	 like	 locusts.	 Even	 animals	 who	 stood	 at	 my	 side	 before,	 like	 the	 mighty White	Claw,	have	fallen	under	his	dark	magic.	Our	eagles	and	hawks	tell	us	that

Azaz	is	again	on	the	move,	hunting	what	he	believes	to	be	the	last	of	the	 rulku.

Yet,	even	if	he	is	right,	even	if	he	doesn’t	simply	follow	his	own	madness,	how

can	we	face	such	a	power	as	his	and	win?”

Snow	 Prophet	 stood	 closer	 to	 Moon	 Shadow,	 using	 his	 beak	 to	 pet	 her	 in comfort.	“That	is	the	question	of	a	leader,”	he	said.	“Yet,	even	our	ancestors	and the	 Ozu	are	silent	on	those	crucial	details.	All	I	know	is	that	it	 must	be.	You	 must convince	the	animal	lords.	The	animals	of	the	world	must	stand	up	to	Azaz	and

the	 mistakes	 he	 makes.	 His	 tyranny	 undoes	 everything	 we	 fought	 for:	 standing above	the	 rulku, 	building	a	better	world	for	animals	and	plants	alike.	Under	his rule,	I	see	endless	fires.”

Moon	Shadow	shook	her	mighty	mane.	This	was	not	the	reassurance	she	was

looking	for.

“Perhaps,	 this	 time,	 I	 am	 not	 the	 prophet	 for	 you,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said.	 “But there	is	another,	one	who	has	come	to	you	in	your	dreams	and	visions.	The	great

hunter	Sun	Shadow.	He	has	spoken	to	me,	as	he	has	spoken	to	you.”

Moon	Shadow	perked	up	at	the	mention	of	her	mate’s	name.	“If	only	he	were alive	and	here,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“He	could	lead	the	animals	in	this	last,	most

desperate	fight.”

Snow	 Prophet	 flapped	 his	 wings,	 as	 if	 to	 dispel	 the	 notion	 from	 the	 sacred mountain	peak.	“You	mistake	his	message,”	the	wise	old	bird	said.	“Sun	Shadow

was	 a	 great	 wolf	 warrior	 before	 the	 dark	 times.	 But	 he	 was	 not	 half	 the	 leader you	are.	Sun	Shadow	comes	because	he	looks	to	you.	He	knows	that	you	alone

can	speak	courage	when	other	animal	lords	can	only	speak	fear.	You	are	his	hope

that	 your	 pups	 have	 not	 died	 in	 vain—that	 a	 new	 world	 awaits	 the	 pups	 of	 the wolves	 of	 countless	 generations,	 a	 better	 world,	 made	 possible	 by	 you.	 It	 is	 a world	you	will	live	to	see,	wolf	queen.	It	is	a	world	where	you	finally	let	your

great	love	be	a	part	of	you	without	hurting	you,	a	world	where	you	will	let	go	of

the	past	in	favor	of	the	future.	Sun	Shadow	came	to	tell	you	to	stop	looking	to

him:	only	you	can	make	this	happen.	If	ever	you	are	to	be	a	leader,	now	is	the

time.”

“I	 don’t	 know	 if	 I	 have	 the	 strength	 or	 the	 wisdom,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said, simply.

“Of	 course	 you	 don’t,”	 Snow	 Prophet	 said.	 “Do	 you	 think	 I	 have	 all	 the wisdom	of	the	world,	high	on	this	mountain	peak?	Even	I	must	discuss	matters

with	 the	 smallest	 sparrow	 perched	 in	 the	 lowest	 branch	 to	 see	 her	 perspective.

No	 one	 of	 us	 has	 all	 the	 strength	 or	 all	 of	 the	 wisdom	 we	 need.	 But	 all	 of	 us, together,	do.	That	is	why	you	are	the	leader:	not	because	you	are	the	strongest,	or the	wisest,	or	the	bravest	or	the	best,	but	because	you	bring	out	those	qualities	in others.	 True	 leaders	 see	 leadership	 not	 just	 in	 themselves	 but	 in	 others.	 They beget	more	leaders,	not	just	followers.”

The	words	of	Snow	Prophet	spoke	to	Moon	Shadow	in	a	way	no	other	words

had.

“You’re	right,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“We	have	no	time	to	waste.	I	have	spent

so	much	of	the	last	year	thinking	of	history	as	an	antagonist.	But	history	does	not cast	us	into	an	unbreakable	mold;	it	is	ours	to	make	of	as	we	will.	Thank	you	for

reminding	me	of	who	I	am.	Summon	the	animal	lords.	We	must	speak	before	our

moment	in	history	passes.”

Snow	Prophet	fluttered	his	wings	and	flew	high	in	the	sky,	summoning	all	the

nanobots	 to	 reform	 a	 holosphere	 powerful	 enough	 to	 join	 all	 the	 animal	 lords.

Once	 he	 did,	 he	 flew	 back	 to	 Moon	 Shadow	 and	 nodded,	 as	 if	 to	 say	 Speak.

History	is	listening.

“Animal	lords,”	Moon	 Shadow	said,	her	 voice	thundering.	“As	 I	once	spoke

to	the	 rulku	to	announce	the	rise	of	 Animus,	I	summon	you	now	to	speak	of	the need	for	one	last	battle.	This	battle	is	for	everything	that	 Animus	represents:	the

pure	heart	of	the	animal,	the	sanctity	of	the	 Ozu, 	and	the	fight	for	what	is	right not	 just	 for	 one	 species	 but	 for	 all.	 Azaz	 moves	 to	 exterminate	 the	 last	 of	 the rulku. 	While	the	 rulku	are	a	dangerous	predator	that	have	hurt	us	all,	if	we	have learned	one	thing	from	them,	it	is	this:	no	one	animal	should	have	the	power	of

extinction	over	another.	For	that	matter,	no	one	animal	should	have	power	over

the	hearts	and	minds	of	all.	Was	this	not	why	the	council	of	animals	was	formed?

Was	this	not	a	sacred	law	of	 Animus?	Yet,	does	Azaz	consult	us	in	this	or	seek our	 ideas?	 Does	 he	 care?	 His	 Blood	 Paw	 bears	 are	 stationed	 over	 all	 our	 lands and	drain	our	food	and	supplies,	and	for	what	reason?	To	see	that	statues	of	the

king	 of	 kings	 rise	 while	 animals’	 liberties	 fall?	 To	 humble	 us,	 his	 hardworking kings	 and	 queens,	 further?	 This	 is	 not	 the	 Animus	 I	 fought	 for,	 and	 it	 is	 not	 an Animus	I	will	die	for.	But	I	will	die	to	see	that	hungry	animals	get	fed.	I	will	die to	see	that	animal	liberties	are	restored.	I	will	die	to	see	that	no	one	animal	has power	over	all	the	others.	The	age	of	tyrants	ended	with	the	Age	of	Man.	This	is

a	new	age,	The	Age	of	the	Animal.	If	ever	there	was	a	time	to	fight,	that	time	is

now.	 Join	 me	 in	 the	 holosphere.	 Pledge	 your	 help	 before	 everything	 so	 many animals—our	sisters,	children,	and	mates—fought	and	died	for	is	no	more.”

Sky	 Death	 was	 the	 first	 to	 appear.	 Moon	 Shadow	 looked	 upon	 the	 newest

voice	 of	 Azaz	 with	 fear	 and	 suspicion.	 Sky	 Death	 flapped	 his	 wings	 and	 said simply,	 “How	 I	 miss	 hearing	 your	 wonderful	 little	 speeches,	 wolf	 queen!	 So much	has	changed	from	the	day	we	both	fled	north,	seeking	Nurvlyn,	seeking	we

knew	not	what.	Your	words	ring	true,	yet	I	cannot	help	you	other	than	to	say	this: I	will	code	and	jam	your	signal	so	that	no	Blood	Paw	ears	that	are	listening	may

detect	you.	If	I	am	to	die	a	traitor,	at	least	let	me	not	betray	myself.”

Upon	 hearing	 the	 words	 of	 Moon	 Shadow	 and	 Sky	 Vulture,	 other	 animal

lords,	from	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare	to	Thunder	Killer	to	Groth	The	Impaler	to

Thraxis	to	King	Croc	to	even	Zulta	and	Yorba	joined	in.	Every	animal	had	a	long

face.	Every	animal	waited	to	see	who	would	speak	first.

“I	know	we	have	fought	amongst	each	other,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“I	know	we

don’t	trust	each	other.	Yet,	I	also	know	that	each	of	us	has	suffered	under	Azaz’s ungodly	 paw.	 I	 have	 consulted	 our	 oracle,	 Snow	 Prophet,	 and	 his	 words	 were clear:	 if	 we	 don’t	 strike	 soon,	 we	 may	 never	 be	 able	 to	 strike	 again.	 Azaz	 has already	taken,	tortured	and	killed	the	royal	ravens	of	The	Night	Eye.	Which	one

of	us	is	next?”

Yorba	 was	 the	 first	 to	 speak	 up.	 “Do	 you	 not	 see	 the	 scars	 on	 my	 face	 and chest,	 even	 in	 the	 holosphere?”	 he	 asked.	 “Did	 you	 not	 see	 Azaz	 humble	 both Zulta	 and	 me	 and	 kill	 those	 closest	 to	 us?	 No	 one	 has	 more	 reason	 to	 wreak vengeance	upon	the	bear	god	than	I.	But	unless	you	know	exactly	how	we	can

do	this,	I	suggest	that	each	animal	lord	forget	this	meeting	took	place	and	look	to

save	themselves	and	their	subjects.”

“Well	 said,	 Yorba,”	 Thraxis	 added.	 “I	 have	 fought	 Azaz	 snake	 to	 bear	 and even	I	could	not	poison	or	squeeze	him	to	death.	And	now,	his	power	is	ungodly.

I	 still	 look	 for	 weaknesses,	 for	 openings,	 for	 opportunities,	 but	 there	 are	 none.

He	is	invincible.”

“I	 hate	 to	 agree	 with	 the	 snake	 empress,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said.	 “But	 she	 is right.	Azaz’s	army	is	not	invulnerable,	but	Azaz	himself	is.”

“Agreed,”	Zulta	added.	“I	cannot	risk	losing	my	daughter	or	my	mate.”	Moon

Shadow	 looked	 within	 herself	 for	 words	 of	 courage,	 but	 she	 was	 still	 looking when	a	most	unexpected	ally	spoke	up.

“All	is	not	so	lost	as	it	might	seem,”	King	Croc	said.	“King	Blu	is	not	happy

with	Azaz’s	thinking	machines	that	pollute	his	waters	after	his	grand	march.	He

sees	the	king	of	kings	acting	as	foolishly	as	the	 rulku	before	him.	If	you	agree	to act,	 he,	 she,	 or	 it—whatever	 the	 great	 intelligence	 is—has	 pledged	 its

considerable	support.”

“The	 ocean	 is	 wide,”	 Yorba	 said.	 “But	 sharks	 underwater	 cannot	 help	 us

here.”

“Don’t	underestimate	the	intellect	of	King	Blu,”	King	Croc	said.	“He	gave	us

the	end	of	the	war	against	the	 rulku, 	but	not	to	replace	one	tyrant	with	another.

He	will	assist	us	in	the	final	hour,	if	we	first	make	the	stand.”

“I	have	complained	about	how	many	of	my	animals	starve	without	man	flesh,

but	my	calls	go	unheard,”	Groth	The	Impaler	said.	“I	vote	we	go	down	fighting,

especially	with	a	whale	god	on	our	side.”

“Me	 too,”	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said.	 “What	 we	 need	 to	 topple	 one	 god	 is another,	 more	 powerful	 god.	 We	 have	 that	 now,	 and	 that	 changes	 everything.”

The	animals	all	chattered	amongst	themselves,	such	was	the	electricity	in	the	air.

“How	can	we	do	this?”	Zulta	asked.	“I	am	an	animal	that	deals	in	details.	If

King	 Blu	 won’t	 allow	 more	 thinking	 machines	 to	 cross	 his	 waters,	 only	 the armies	of	the	western	ocean	may	join	in	the	fray.”

“King	 Blu	 has	 a	 way	 of	 transporting	 anything	 that	 is	 beyond	 your	 king’s powers,”	King	Croc	said.	“He	guarantees	your	animals	safe	passage.”

Each	 animal	 lord	 looked	 at	 the	 other	 as	 if	 to	 ask:	 are	 we	 actually	 going	 to war? 	Moon	Shadow	spoke	up	and	said,	“My	armies	will	lead	the	charge.	Let	me know	if	you’re	willing	to	join	us.”

There	was	a	long	silence,	the	kind	that	suggested	that	after	it	was	broken,	the

world	might	never	be	the	same.

“I	will	join,”	Groth	The	Impaler	said.

“Me	too,”	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare	said.

“And	I,”	Thraxis	added.





“Very	well.	I	say	we	skin	the	false	god	alive.	I’m	in	too,”	Yorba	added.	“And

I,”	Zulta	said,	“but	only	if	King	Blu	guarantees	his	support.	To	do	so	otherwise

would	be	most	imprudent.”

King	Croc	laughed.	“Who	do	you	think	enables	this	holosphere?”	the	dubious

crocodile	 lord	 asked.	 “King	 Blu	 has	 foreseen	 and	 authorized	 all.	 He	 sees millennia,	yet	he	understands	the	importance	of	even	the	smallest	of	moments.”

“Then	it’s	agreed,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“Prepare	your	armies.	Azaz	will	arrive

within	 the	 borders	 of	 Animus	 tomorrow.	 I	 will	 move	 out	 to	 meet	 him.	 Join	 me when	you	can.	Let	us	make	this	last	glorious	stand	together,	as	animals!”

With	that,	the	holosphere	disappeared,	as	if	a	sign	from	King	Blu	himself.

Moon	 Shadow	 looked	 at	 Snow	 Prophet,	 assuming	 that	 he	 already	 knew	 her

question.

“You	can’t	tell	me,	can	you?”	she	asked.

“I	could,”	Snow	Prophet	said,	“but	why?	You	already	know	the	answer.	You

have	all	along.”

CHAPTER	40

Pols	Dedans

Near	the	Ocean

Nunavut,	Canada

The	Night	Eye	flew	irregularly,	in	haphazard	elliptical	patterns,	when	it	came	to

the	 massive	 swath	 of	 wooded	 vines,	 trees,	 bushes,	 and	 ivies.	 Even	 in	 the	 giant thinking	machines,	the	journey	had	been	long	and	cold.	Azaz,	accoutered	in	full

armor,	 shone	 like	 a	 misguided	 sun,	 his	 white	 godly	 eyes	 wavering	 between	 the tattered	 birds.	 And	 behind	 Azaz,	 entire	 legions	 of	 his	 best	 Blood	 Paw	 troops prepared	themselves	for	the	slaughter.

“Well,	ravens,”	Azaz	said	as	they	stared	at	the	maze	of	plants.	“We	are	at	the

edge	of	the	great	wood.	Show	us	the	way	or	die	in	these	wastelands.”

The	Night	Eye	remembered	a	small	thicket	of	shorter	grass	that	allowed	their

spies	 to	 hear	 the	 clamor	 of	 rulku	 activity.	 The	 scouting	 ravens	 searched	 their nanobot	 records	 and	 flew	 to	 the	 area,	 only	 to	 see	 that	 where	 there	 had	 been	 a

thicket,	there	was	now	a	wall	of	branches	and	vines,	all	swirling	about,	ready	for the	assault.

“My	lord,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“Something	is	not	right.	The	way	should	be	in

here,	according	to	our	intel.	Yet,	there	is	a	tree	of	woe	awaiting	us.”	The	Night

Eye	swarmed	farther	up	in	air	that	tasted	of	eternal	winter.	“There	is	a	sound,	a

pounding	of	many	paws.	We	are	not	alone,	King	Azaz.	The	 rulku	know	you’re

coming.	And	they	are	protected	by…wolves?”

Azaz	 used	 the	 great	 godly	 sight	 his	 fiery	 eyes	 allowed	 him.	 Sure	 enough,	 a legion	of	wolves,	dogs,	moose,	and	buffalos,	and	even	a	few	polar	bears,	charged

at	 him.	 Azaz	 could	 see	 the	 majestic	 white	 Arctic	 wolf,	 Moon	 Shadow,	 leading the	hopeless	charge.

“You	would	lead	us	into	a	trap,”	Azaz	said	to	The	Night	Eye.	He	lifted	a	paw;

his	 gigantic	 red	 nanobots	 rose.	 They	 glowed	 and	 emitted	 a	 rhythmic	 hum.	 The Night	Eye	felt	their	own	nanobots	turning	on	them,	strangling	the	life	out	of	their tiny	avian	necks.

“Not	so,	king	of	kings,”	The	Night	Eye	said,	struggling	for	breath.	“If	you	can

dispatch	this	Tree	of	Woe,	you	should	be	able	to	get	to	the	 rulku.”

Five	 ravens	 among	 the	 number	 fell	 to	 their	 deaths,	 as	 did	 three	 crows.	 The Tree	of	Woe	picked	up	the	dead	bodies,	stabbing	through	them.	Azaz	advanced.

“First	legion,”	Azaz	ordered.	“Form	a	wall	between	me	and	the	unnatural	tree.

I	will	raze	it	by	the	roots	and	tear	its	branches	to	the	snow.	Kill	the	traitors.	Fire at	will!”

Azaz	brought	his	thinking	machine	right	up	to	the	tree.	The	tree	was	not	alone.

Huge,	 white,	 icy	 plant	 vines	 grew	 from	 the	 soil,	 stabbing	 through	 the	 metal	 of the	thinking	machine	battleship.	The	nanobots	of	the	thinking	machine	fought	to

repair	 the	 damage,	 but	 strange	 green	 nanobots,	 those	 of	 the	 plants,	 attacked them.	The	thinking	machine	flared	in	smoke	and	flame	and	came	crashing	to	the

half-frozen	soil.

Growling,	 Azaz	 stepped	 off.	 He	 took	 no	 notice	 of	 the	 surviving	 crows	 and ravens	of	The	Night	Eye.	Instead,	he	put	his	full	focus	on	the	tree.

“I	am	the	king	of	all,”	Azaz	said.	“No	one	can	stand	against	me	and	live!”	The

Night	Eye	flew	off,	keeping	low,	to	let	the	branches	cover	them	in	their	retreat.

Azaz	 merely	 concentrated	 upon	 the	 Tree	 of	 Woe.	 His	 eyes	 became	 white

lightning.	 An	 electric	 field	 consumed	 him	 and	 the	 red	 nanobots	 that	 encircled him.	Azaz	sought	to	command	the	green	nanobots	to	eat	the	tree	from	the	inside

out.	 Instead,	 he	 found	 that	 he	 had	 no	 power	 over	 the	 plants’	 technology.	 Azaz grimaced.	 He	 conjured	 up	 lightning	 from	 the	 circling	 nanobots.	 They	 sent	 bolt after	bolt	into	the	tree.	The	seventh	bolt	cracked	the	trunk.	The	Tree	of	Woe	fell.

Azaz	 communed	 with	 his	 nanobots,	 ordering	 them	 to	 tear	 the	 stump	 out.	 The

nanobots	did	so,	razing	the	earth	below	in	the	process.

“Even	 the	 earth	 is	 at	 my	 command,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “Come	 out	 now, rulku,	 and fight	like	animals,	or	I	will	bury	you	and	your	children	alive.	Either	way,	you	go extinct	this	day.	The	choice	of	how	you	meet	your	fate	is	yours.”

A	swarm	of	unusual	nanobots,	golden	as	a	midnight	sun,	swarmed	above	the

passage.	 Azaz	 sought	 to	 destroy	 them,	 but	 his	 hovering	 red	 nanobots	 stayed	 in position.

“A	 king	 is	 a	 servant	 of	 the	 earth,	 not	 its	 master,”	 a	 strangely	 familiar	 voice said.

“Nurvlyn,”	Azaz	said.	“You’re	still	alive?!”

“I	am	death	and	life;	I	am	in	all	that	is,”	Nurvlyn	said.

The	swarm	took	on	the	human	dimensions	of	Nurvlyn,	standing	before	Azaz

and	his	fury.

“Three	 prophecies	 have	 been	 fulfilled,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “The	 great	 bear	 has established	a	worldwide	empire.	He	has	found	a	mate	who	is	now	pregnant	with

his	cub.	And	today,	his	hour	has	come.”

Azaz	held	up	a	paw	and	said,	“I	am	the	power	behind	the	prophecies.	Nothing

shall	 happen	 unless	 I	 allow	 it.	 Mark	 my	 words,	 half- rulku:	 You	 cannot	 kill	 a god.”	The	red	nanobots	rose	again,	and	the	white	eyes	of	the	bear	god	fell	into	a

trance.	Azaz	conjured	up	languages,	tongues,	and	names	from	some	ancient	bear

history	he	neither	knew	nor	comprehended.	Yet,	the	nanobots	were	powerless	to

destroy	the	golden	swarm	that	was	Nurvlyn.

“A	wizard’s	trick?”	Azaz	asked.

“The	 crown	 remembers	 its	 first	 master,”	 Nurvlyn	 said.	 “Just	 like	 it	 shall remember	its	last.”

With	that,	Nurvlyn	disappeared,	becoming	a	blinding	light	that	made	even	the

luminescence	of	the	bear	god	look	pale	by	comparison.	Azaz	shielded	his	eyes.

When	 he	 opened	 them,	 he	 saw	 that	 the	 rulku	 were,	 impossibly,	 inside	 enemy lines.	 The	 marching	 of	 the	 wolves	 had	 begun.	 Moon	 Shadow	 and	 her	 soldiers assaulted	The	Blood	Paw	warriors	at	every	point	of	the	front	line.	Azaz	moved

to	 strike	 lightning	 at	 the	 wolves	 that	 would	 dare	 rise	 up	 against	 their	 dreaded master.	Yet,	before	he	could,	Azaz	saw	that	the	 rulku	were	fighting	with	weapons he	had	never	seen	before.	Vines	of	woe	stretched	from	the	earth,	eating	the	bears

from	the	ground	up	and	anchoring	them	while	the	wolves	attacked	the	heads	and

forepaws	 of	 the	 bears,	 wrestling	 them	 to	 the	 ground.	 The	 rulku	 were	 equally coordinated.	They	had	two	giant	stars	that	rose	as	spheres,	trillions	of	nanobots

all	focused	on	one	task.	The	wizard	warrior,	Fowler,	sat	with	his	head	tucked	and

his	arms	folded,	as	if	in	meditation.	The	moment	he	raised	his	head,	giant	waves

of	 electrical	 current	 ebbed	 into	 the	 line	 of	 grizzlies,	 burning	 them	 in	 a	 yellow

fire.

“Fowler,”	Azaz	said,	remembering	his	scars.	“See	what	a	true	god	can	do.”

Azaz	 raised	 his	 paws.	 Serpentine	 waves	 of	 current	 flew	 from	 them.	 The	 two giant	stars	burst	in	a	fire	that	consumed	them.	They	crashed	with	the	fire	down	to the	soil.	At	least	twenty	 rulku	fell	with	them,	burning	in	the	fires.	The	surviving bears	 walled	 up	 the	 dead	 bodies,	 bears	 and	 rulku	 alike,	 until	 the	 wolves	 were forced	 to	 climb	 to	 attack.	 With	 renewed	 defenses,	 the	 bears	 picked	 off	 the wolves,	until	only	Moon	Shadow	and	her	most	elite	warriors	were	left.

“You	dare	betray	me,	wolf	queen?	Today,	not	one—but	two—species	will	be

wiped	from	the	earth,”	Azaz	proclaimed.

As	quickly	as	his	words	rolled	through	the	eternal	ice	of	 Pols	Dedans, 	Moon Shadow	 and	 the	 wolves	 disappeared.	 Azaz	 looked	 over	 the	 field	 of	 battle,	 but only	 The	 Blood	 Paw,	 Dasu,	 White	 Claw,	 and	 the	 polar	 bears	 remained.	 Their numbers	were	still	vast,	and	they	had	the	support	of	the	mountain	lions,	serpents, and	 black	 bears	 from	 The	 Rockies,	 all	 under	 Azaz’s	 control.	 Yet,	 when	 Azaz looked	back	at	the	far	end	of	the	field,	he	realized	the	guile	of	his	enemies.	The warrior	 wizards,	 Nurvlyn	 and	 Fowler,	 had	 depleted	 some	 of	 his	 best	 bears	 to give	their	forces	time	to	build	up	an	army	unlike	any	the	animal	world	had	ever

seen.	At	the	steps	of	the	 rulku	sanctuary,	in	the	snows	of	Nunavut,	stood	Kama and	 the	 lions;	 Slash	 and	 the	 pumas;	 Yorba,	 scarred	 as	 he	 was,	 and	 his	 gorillas; Zulta	the	Half	Tusk	and	his	elephants;	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare	and	his	snow

leopards	and	spider	 monkeys;	King	Croc	 and	his	crocodiles	 and	alligators;	and

even	 Thraxis	 and	 her	 anacondas	 and	 caimans.	 Groth	 The	 Impaler	 stood,	 The Night	Eye	hovering	over	him,	with	his	bears	and	wolverines.	Even	Brigand	was

there,	 with	 his	 army	 of	 rulku.	 Every	 other	 animal	 lord	 save	 White	 Claw	 stood against	the	bear	god.	Hovering	above	the	line	were	Thunder	Killer	and	his	eagles

and	 hawks,	 Earl	 The	 Equivocator	 and	 his	 parrots	 and	 birds	 of	 the	 jungle;	 and Sky	Death	and	his	vultures	and	condors.

“The	 last	 stand	 of	 the	 old	 animal	 kings	 and	 queens,”	 Azaz	 said,	 bemused.

“Your	army	is	mighty,	but	not	one	of	you	can	take	the	crown	from	my	head.	Not

even	the	largest	army	the	world	has	ever	seen	can	defeat	the	bear	god.	Come	on,

beasts.	Charge	to	your	deaths!	I	am	ready	for	you.	For	always,	I	am	Azaz,	king

of	kings!”

Moon	Shadow	led	the	charge,	but	White	Claw	stood	to	meet	her	with	his	polar

bears.

“White	Claw,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“Stand	down.”

“No,	wolf	queen,”	White	Claw	said,	swiping	at	the	wolves	ascending	the	pile

of	 dead	 bodies.	 “I	 respect	 you,	 but	 Azaz	 saved	 my	 life	 and	 avenged	 my attackers.	My	life	is	his	to	lose	again.”

Moon	Shadow	stood	 contemplating,	but	the	 other	animals	of	 the	world	were not	 so	 pensive.	 Zulta	 and	 his	 elephants	 trumpeted	 as	 they	 stampeded.	 Lions roared	 under	 Kama’s	 charge.	 Groth	 and	 the	 wolverines	 mounted	 the	 attacking bears,	giving	them	everything	they	could	handle,	even	as	his	soldiers	paid	with

their	lives.	Yorba	and	his	gorillas	moved	in,	matching	power	with	the	battalion

of	bears.	The	Night	Eye	rose,	godlike	in	the	sky,	blotting	out	the	sun.	They	called every	 able	 bird	 to	 the	 attack.	 Not	 just	 ravens	 and	 crows,	 but	 all	 manners	 of thrushes,	finches,	and	 sparrows	attacked	from	 the	trees.	Thunder	 Killer	and	his battalion	of	eagles	and	hawks	joined	in,	toppling	the	polar	bears	and	White	Claw

himself.	 Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 sent	 the	 spider	 monkeys	 to	 assist	 the

wolverines.	 Even	 Thraxis	 and	 her	 anacondas	 attacked,	 if	 gingerly,	 wrapping around	 entire	 bears	 and	 squeezing	 them	 into	 oblivion.	 Only	 King	 Croc,	 the crocodiles,	alligators,	and	caimans	waited—for	what,	Azaz	could	not	tell.

Had	 Azaz	 been	 any	 other	 animal	 lord,	 he	 might	 have	 felt	 sympathy	 for	 the animals	 beneath	 his	 mighty	 perch.	 He	 might	 have	 called	 off	 the	 attack	 and retreated	back	to	the	heart	of	Bear	Mountain.	But	Azaz	was	not	any	other	animal

lord,	and	he	knew	this	well.	Before	more	of	his	bears	suffered	under	the	hands	of

the	combined	animal	and	 rulku	legions,	Azaz	stepped	forward.	The	battle	hardly ceased.	A	few	brazen	gorillas	charged.	Azaz	sent	them	flying	with	a	wave	of	his

scourge.	Another	battalion	of	elephants	stampeded	until	Azaz	sent	lightning	that

stopped	them	in	their	tracks.	A	third	wave	of	his	scourge	sent	Thunder	Killer	and

the	eagles	flying	uncontrollably	across	the	sky.	The	battle	nearly	came	to	a	dead

halt	because	of	the	power	of	one	bear.

“Any	 that	 would	 take	 this	 crown	 off	 my	 head,”	 Azaz	 proclaimed,	 “step

forward	and	claim	it.”

Groth	The	Impaler	lifted	his	serrated	spear	and	raised	a	bloodcurdling	cry.	The

lord	of	the	wolverines	charged.	Azaz	stood	firm,	flailing	his	scourge	in	one	arm

and	 raising	 the	 other	 as	 Groth	 charged	 at	 full	 might.	 Azaz	 waved	 his	 right	 fist, sending	 a	 wave	 of	 electricity	 to	 knock	 the	 small	 warrior	 to	 the	 rocks.	 Yet,	 The Night	Eye	fluttered	above	Groth,	using	their	magic	to	send	the	current	to	the	ice.

Azaz’s	scourge	struck	an	icy	crag.	Groth	used	his	long,	serrated	spear	to	jostle	its tip	into	the	bear	god,	wounding	Azaz	on	his	right	side.	The	animals	stood	back

in	 shock.	 This	 bear	 god	 bled,	 not	 just	 the	 red	 of	 rulku	 blood,	 but	 a	 silver	 that added	brilliance	to	the	ruddiness	of	the	blood-stained	ice.

“The	bear	god	bleeds,”	Groth	called	out,	raising	his	bloodied	spear.	“Anything

that	bleeds	can	die.”

In	 a	 fit	 of	 fury,	 Azaz	 raised	 the	 wolverine	 up	 by	 his	 neck	 and	 stared	 deeply into	his	insolent	black	eyes.	“For	every	drop	of	blood	you	cost	me,	little	animal, I	will	take	ten	more	of	yours.”

Azaz	 raised	 his	 scourge,	 powering	 it	 with	 the	 full	 electrical	 might	 of	 his	 red nanobots.	The	scourge	wrapped	into	Groth’s	skin,	ripping	off	skin	and	fur	alike

until	Groth,	himself	impaled,	bled	fresh	streams	of	red	into	the	ice.	The	current

shook	 him,	 rendering	 the	 wolverine	 unable	 to	 defend	 himself.	 The	 Night	 Eye flew	 in,	 attacking	 Azaz’s	 eyes.	 Azaz	 sent	 another	 current	 of	 electricity	 at	 the heart	of	The	Night	Eye.	Still	weakened	from	the	incredible	energy	they	used	to

deflect	 Azaz’s	 earlier	 blow	 to	 their	 fearsome	 general,	 the	 birds	 of	 prey succumbed.	The	Night	Eye	fell	from	the	sky,	retreating	behind	a	legion	of	eagles

and	 hawks.	 The	 royal	 ravens	 gave	 Groth	 The	 Impaler	 precious	 time,	 however.

Freed	 from	 the	 electrical	 current,	 Groth	 stabbed	 with	 his	 spear	 at	 Azaz’s	 paw.

The	paw	holding	the	scourge	bled.	Azaz	dropped	the	scourge,	lifting	up	his	paw

in	disbelief.	Groth	seized	the	moment	to	run	back	to	the	lines,	calling	upon	the

animal	lords	to	take	up	the	charge.

“This	fight	is	not	for	one	or	two	animal	lords	alone,”	Groth	called	out.	“Zulta,

Yorba,	Golden	Nightmare,	Thraxis—rise!”

Groth’s	cries	ignited	the	furor	of	his	wolverines,	who	attacked	White	Claw’s

forces	 anew.	 However,	 Vronkyl,	 who	 had	 worked	 his	 way	 up	 from	 the	 largely defeated	army	of	wolves,	was	holding	the	line	on	the	right	side	of	the	field.	The

two	bear	lords	managed	to	tie	up	Yorba	and	the	apes.	Zulta	still	charged	ahead,

but	 Vronkyl	 was	 able	 to	 kill	 a	 few	 of	 the	 smaller	 elephants	 of	 the	 herd,	 which slowed	 down	 the	 charge.	 Kama	 and	 Slash	 worked	 to	 fight	 a	 legion	 of

copperheads	 and	 rattlesnakes	 that	 still	 obeyed	 the	 will	 of	 the	 bear	 god.	 Thraxis and	her	anacondas	and	boas	sat	back,	watching.

Azaz	regained	his	composure	long	enough	to	bellow	out:	“Where	is	the	great

Groth	The	Impaler	now?	You	shed	blood,	but	not	my	life?	Where	are	the	great

animal	lords	of	the	divided	kingdoms?	Which	of	you	can	stand	before	Azaz	and

live?”

As	 Azaz	 spoke,	 radiating	 in	 the	 fires	 of	 his	 own	 megalomania,	 Thraxis

slithered	behind	him.	Azaz	sensed	the	deadly	presence	and	turned	around	just	in

time	 to	 see	 the	 snake	 empress	 striking	 with	 her	 implanted	 fangs.	 Azaz	 felt	 the venom	run	through	him,	but	he	had	strength	enough	to	lift	the	anaconda	queen

from	the	ground.

“Did	you,	of	all	creatures,	think	you	could	beat	me?”	Azaz	asked.	“I	thought

you	 had	 learned	 your	 lesson	 the	 first	 time	 around.	 Now,	 feel	 the	 full	 power	 of your	angry	lord!”

Azaz	threw	Thraxis	and	electrocuted	her	in	a	ball	of	red	lightning	that	held	the

giant	snake.	Thraxis	writhed,	but	she	still	managed	to	hiss	out:	“I	don’t	have	to

beat	you,	bear	god.	The	poison	will	do	that	for	me.”

Azaz’s	 concentration	 broke	 as	 he	 felt	 weakness	 taking	 his	 system.	 Thraxis

dropped,	 alive,	 to	 the	 ground.	 The	 old	 grizzly	 body	 that	 had	 been	 Azaz	 melted away.	The	purifying	fire	of	his	new	bear	god	form	remained,	however.

“You	are	not	the	only	one	who	can	shed	skin	and	its	poisons,”	Azaz	said.	“To

take	life,	you	must	also	give	life,	snake	queen.	You	took	some	of	mine,	but	you

also	gave	me	your	power.	I	am	immune.”

The	 animals	 gained	 in	 their	 charge	 on	 White	 Claw.	 The	 polar	 bear	 king	 and Vronkyl	stood	shoulder	to	shoulder.	After	using	their	maces	to	fend	off	a	hungry

pack	of	lions,	they	looked	one	another	in	the	eye.

“I	don’t	know	how	much	longer	I	can	hold,	brother,”	White	Claw	said.	“There

are	simply	too	many.”

“Send	 your	 polar	 bears	 behind	 my	 grizzlies,”	 Vronkyl	 said.	 “I	 can	 give	 you shelter	there.	I	will	speak	with	Azaz.	We	can’t	hold	the	lines	any	longer.”

White	 Claw	 ordered	 his	 troops	 back.	 Vronkyl	 ordered	 his	 troops	 to	 hold	 the line	and	then	turned	to	seek	counsel	from	his	king.	Azaz	didn’t	even	look	at	his

forces,	so	concerned	was	he	with	domination.	Azaz	descended	to	meet	the	lion

of	 lions,	 Kama,	 the	 elephant	 king,	 Zulta,	 and	 the	 panda	 king,	 The	 Golden Nightmare,	who	now	had	full	formations	hammering	at	the	lines.

“Treacherous	panda,”	Azaz	said	to	Yu	The	Golden	Nightmare.	“I	checked	on

you	while	you	had	that	golden	mask	melted	to	your	face	to	allow	you	to	survive.

I	 contained	 the	 plague	 that	 would	 have	 annihilated	 your	 animals.	 Now,	 I	 will finish	what	the	plague	could	not.”

Azaz	moved	to	attack	The	Golden	Nightmare	directly,	but	Yu	only	postured,

allowing	 the	 other	 animal	 lords	 time	 to	 encircle	 the	 boastful	 bear	 god.	 Moon Shadow,	 Thunder	 Killer,	 Kama,	 Zulta,	 and	 Yorba	 positioned	 themselves	 in	 the circle,	 each	 growling,	 shrieking,	 wailing,	 and	 trumpeting	 in	 their	 own	 beastly fashion.

“The	 mightiest	 bear	 is	 not	 the	 smartest	 bear,	 it	 would	 seem,”	 The	 Golden Nightmare	 said.	 “I	 respected	 you,	 brother,	 until	 you	 demeaned	 your	 lords	 and threatened	to	wipe	an	entire	species	from	the	earth.	My	bears	have	suffered	from

that	fate.	I	will	not	let	it	happen	again,	not	to	any	species,	even	one	as	vile	as	the rulku.”

“You	speak	like	an	animal,”	Moon	Shadow	said,	“with	the	heart	of	 Animus	at your	core.”

“Foolish,	petty	lords,”	Azaz	said.	“You	need	a	powerful	emperor	to	decide	for

you	the	matters	you	cannot	stomach	for	yourselves.	The	 rulku	would	have	killed us	all.	I	fight	for	every	animal’s	survival	as	much	as	I	fight	for	my	own.	Once	I

kill	you	all	and	replace	you	with	new	lords,	they	will	see	the	way	of	The	Blood

Paw,	the	true	meaning	of	what	is	 Ozu. ”

“You	pervert	our	sacred	law	with	your	words,”	Thunder	Killer	cried	out.	“You

will	learn	now	that	no	animal	is	above	the	law,	not	even	the	king	of	kings.”

At	that,	Thunder	Killer	swooped	in,	attacking	the	great	bear’s	wounds,	ripping

them	open	so	that	the	silver	blood	flowed	more	steadily.	Azaz	grabbed	the	king

of	 eagles	 by	 his	 right	 wing	 and	 tore	 it,	 tossing	 the	 eagle	 to	 the	 icy	 sky.	 Zulta charged	forth,	the	only	one	whose	mass	was	in	any	way	close	to	that	of	the	bear

god	himself.	Zulta	knocked	Azaz	to	the	ground,	wrangling	him	with	his	broken

tusks.	There,	Yorba	pounded	upon	the	bear	god’s	chest	while	Moon	Shadow	and

Kama	pulled	at	his	lower	paws.

Vronkyl,	coming	up	from	the	field	of	battle	just	in	time	to	see	his	master	near

defeat,	 attacked	 Moon	 Shadow	 first,	 tossing	 her	 from	 Azaz’s	 lower	 right	 paw.

Kama	 then	 let	 go	 of	 Azaz’s	 lower	 left	 paw	 long	 enough	 to	 unleash	 his	 full weight	 upon	 Vronkyl,	 taking	 down	 the	 bear	 lord	 and	 sinking	 his	 mighty	 lion fangs	into	the	giant	grizzly	general’s	neck.	The	distraction	allowed	Azaz	to	rise

again.	 Azaz	 said	 a	 spell	 in	 an	 ancient	 bear	 language	 not	 even	 he	 could	 fully grasp.	His	claws	became	as	talons	of	steel	set	to	an	unearthly	flame.

“Rulku	 lovers,”	 Azaz	 said.	 “You	 shall	 die	 with	 the	 very	 metal	 your	 former masters	used	to	poison	the	sacred	earth.”

Azaz	stabbed	at	Zulta	with	his	fire	claws	until	the	great	elephant	had	to	choose

between	 stampeding	 the	 bear	 king	 or	 retreating	 for	 his	 life.	 Zulta	 chose	 to charge.	Azaz	readied	himself	for	the	killing	blow	when	Moon	Shadow	jumped	in

front	of	the	charging	elephant,	taking	the	blow	for	herself.	Azaz	threw	the	wolf

queen	down	the	icy	peaks.	Zulta	then	knocked	Azaz	down	and	stampeded	him,

but	was	stabbed	from	below.	The	elephant	king	wobbled	and	fell	to	the	ground.

Kama,	 king	 of	 the	 jungle	 lions,	 stood	 up	 to	 challenge	 Azaz.	 Azaz	 and	 Kama circled	one	another	before	Kama	saw	his	opening.	A	wound	on	the	lower	leg	still

bled.	 Azaz,	 accustomed	 to	 standing	 on	 two	 legs	 now,	 like	 the	 very	 rulku	 he	 so detested,	saw	where	Kama’s	eyes	looked.	Kama	struck,	only	to	receive	the	same

stabbing	wound	as	his	fellow	animal	lords.	Azaz	readied	the	killing	blow	again,

only	 for	 Yorba	 to	 push	 him	 aside.	 Azaz	 conjured	 an	 electrical	 current	 to	 storm over	 Yorba	 until	 the	 great	 gorilla	 king	 was	 forced	 to	 step	 back	 to	 save	 his eyesight.

“Enough,”	a	voice	cried	like	fresh	thunder	over	a	distant	hill.

The	 echo	 of	 the	 commanding	 voice	 was	 enough	 to	 garner	 Azaz’s	 full

attention.

“Who	would	dare	command	the	king	of	kings	after	seeing	what	he	does	to	his

treacherous	lords?”	Azaz	asked.

“The	 rulku	who	would	cut	the	crown	from	your	very	head,”	Fowler	said.	“Let us	decide	this	with	a	battle	of	wizards.	Your	magic	versus	mine.”

As	Fowler	spoke,	the	last	of	the	 rulku	charged,	under	Hunter	General	Brigand,

with	all	of	their	might	to	head	off	White	Claw	and	Vronkyl.	The	plants,	under	an unseen	 intelligence,	 rose	 to	 block	 Azaz’s	 attacking	 animals	 from	 the	 wounded animal	 lords.	 Brigand	 then	 fell	 back	 to	 each	 of	 the	 legions	 of	 animals,	 calling upon	the	whole	animal	horde	to	fall	back.	Uncertain	and	confused,	the	animals

stayed	 in	 place	 for	 a	 moment.	 Then	 they	 saw	 the	 monoliths	 and	 immediately understood.	So	too	did	White	Claw	and	Vronkyl.	The	two	bear	generals	looked

at	one	another	and	ordered	a	hasty	retreat.

Azaz,	sparked	by	his	hatred	of	the	one	 rulku	who	had	gotten	the	better	of	him, saw	 nothing	 but	 the	 sweetest	 possible	 kill	 walking	 willingly	 towards	 him,	 into his	open	and	waiting	jaws.

“Spoken	 like	 a	 bear,”	 Azaz	 said.	 His	 words	 dripped	 with	 something	 of

affection	 for	 the	 creature	 he	 hated	 so	 much.	 “If	 you	 had	 been	 born	 one	 of	 my kind,	you	would	be	standing	here	with	me.	As	it	is,	we	are	mortal	enemies, rulku wizard.	You	scarred	me,	and	I	must	now	kill	you.	Such	is	the	law	of	 Ozu:	nature only	allows	the	strong	to	survive.”

“Nature	 sees	 many	 kinds	 of	 strength,”	 Fowler	 said.	 “The	 tragedy	 is	 that	 you see	 only	 one.	 Azaz,	 bear	 god,	 king	 of	 kings,	 whatever	 you	 call	 yourself	 these days:	 you	 had	 the	 potential	 to	 be	 the	 greatest	 king	 of	 all.	 Instead,	 you	 have become	 like	 the	 worst	 of	 your	 creators,	 harboring	 all	 of	 their	 rage,	 all	 of	 their killing	 tendencies,	 and	 none	 of	 the	 compassion,	 wisdom,	 and	 concern	 for	 the common	 good	 that	 should	 befall	 a	 king.	 The	 Ozu	 has	 spoken.	 Mother	 Earth	 is against	you,	king	of	kings,	and	so	am	I.”

“Blasphemy,”	Azaz	said.

Azaz	lifted	his	paws.	A	sphere	of	red	light	emerged	above	Azaz,	more	like	a

small,	bleeding	sun	than	a	halo	of	fire.

Fowler	sat	down,	meditating.	A	sphere	of	white	light	emerged	about	his	head,

more	like	a	hungry	fire	than	a	halo	of	lightning.

Azaz	was	the	first	to	attack.	After	fighting	each	of	the	animal	lords,	he	gained

some	of	their	power.	He	called	upon	the	sphere	to	form	eagles	of	red	fire.	The

eagles	 went	 after	 Fowler,	 seeking	 to	 tear	 out	 his	 eyes.	 Yet,	 Fowler’s	 sphere	 of light	only	grew,	shielding	him.

Fowler	 conjured	 up	 an	 ancient	 bear	 priest,	 a	 short-faced	 bear	 of	 yellow	 fire.

The	bear	priest	said	a	spell	to	raise	yet	more	fire.	The	bear	priest	lunged	at	Azaz, but	his	fire	fell	before	the	consuming	red	sphere	that	engulfed	the	king	of	kings.

Azaz	 then	 used	 the	 might	 of	 Thraxis	 to	 create	 a	 giant	 anaconda	 ancestor,	 a titanoboa,	to	squeeze	the	great	sphere	of	yellow	fire.	Fowler	shook	his	head	and

spoke,	 softly,	 an	 incantation.	 The	 giant,	 ancient	 serpent	 disappeared	 into	 tiny snakes	of	flame	that	slithered	across	the	icy	sky	and	disappeared.

Fowler	countered	by	creating,	from	his	yellow	fire,	the	image	of	an	innocent

grizzly	 bear	 cub	 snacking	 on	 some	 honey	 and	 trash	 at	 a	 discarded	 campsite.	 It was	the	bear’s	first	foray	into	the	world	of	men	that	would	ultimately	hunt	and

kill	its	parents.	The	cub	growled	ever	so	softly,	in	a	perfect	moment	of	joy.	Azaz recognized	the	picture	of	his	former	self	before	The	 Rapsys. 	With	a	mighty	thrust of	his	paw,	Azaz	rejected	the	sentimentality	of	the	moment.

“I	am	what	you	and	your	kind	have	made	me,”	Azaz	said	bluntly.	“You	cannot

change	that	now	with	your	 rulku	magic.	Even	if	we	do	this	until	the	end	of	time, you	will	not	beat	me,	even	if	I	don’t	beat	you.”

“You	are	wrong,”	Fowler	said	with	the	slightest	of	smirks.	“In	this	stalemate

of	wizards,	I	come	out	ahead.”

It	 was	 then	 that	 Azaz	 looked	 from	 the	 smirking	 face	 of	 the	 enemy	 to	 the suddenly	 quiet	 fields	 of	 battle.	 He	 saw	 the	 monoliths,	 so	 long	 silent,	 so	 long	 a forgotten	puzzle	pushed	piece	by	discarded	piece	to	the	side,	light	up	in	electric blue	 waves.	 A	 sphere	 of	 pure	 ocean	 blue,	 the	 size	 of	 an	 island,	 arose	 as	 well.

Impossibly,	 the	 monoliths	 were	 teleporters	 of	 the	 sea,	 magnifying	 the	 ocean waters	 and	 transporting	 fresh	 water	 where	 there	 was	 none	 before.	 Azaz	 looked up	to	see	this	miracle	of	biblical	proportions.	Where	once	there	was	ice	and	rock, suddenly	there	was	a	makeshift	inland	sea,	a	pocket	of	ocean	so	vast	that	entire

legions	of	sharks,	dolphins,	and	whales	swam	under	the	command	of	Xrata,	The

White	Death,	the	deadliest	of	the	great	white	sharks	of	the	sea.	It	was	the	largest army	Azaz	or	any	animal	lord	had	ever	seen.	Leading	them	was	King	Croc	and

the	 battalion	 of	 crocodiles,	 alligators,	 and	 caimans	 who	 had	 so	 long	 laid	 silent while	the	animals	of	the	earth	fought.

“Animals	of	land,”	the	giant,	pulsating	sphere	said,	in	a	mighty	blast	so	loud

even	 the	 bear	 god’s	 massive	 ears	 bled.	 “Long	 have	 we	 watched	 you	 and	 your toilsome	wars.	First,	you	overthrew	your	 rulku	overlords,	and	we	supported	you in	this,	as	it	served	the	needs	of	the	ocean.	Then,	you	disregarded	the	sacredness of	 all	 animal	 life,	 of	 the	 Ozu,	 and	 turned	 on	 each	 other.	 This,	 we	 still	 ignored.

Yet,	 you	 crossed	 our	 oceans	 in	 the	 same	 polluting	 thinking	 machines	 as	 your forebears,	 with	 no	 more	 regard	 for	 marine	 life	 than	 the	 rulku	 you	 overthrew.	 I speak	to	you	now	as	the	oldest	creature	ever	to	swim	the	waters	of	the	earth.	I

am	the	voice	of	King	Blu,	in	your	tongue,	the	immortal	whale,	the	god	of	death.

Yet,	 my	 consciousness	 has	 lived	 in	 the	 oldest	 coral,	 in	 the	 oldest	 waters,	 for millions	of	years.	I	see	time	as	an	ocean;	I	know	where	each	current	leads.	This

current	leads	to	the	end	of	the	reign	of	Azaz,	the	king	of	bears.	Forfeit	the	crown or	drown	in	my	wrath.”

Azaz	 shook	 himself	 free	 of	 his	 shock	 and	 said	 only,	 “I	 choose	 to	 fight	 the whale	god,	even	if	he	is	death	itself.	For	always,	I	am	Azaz,	king	of	kings.”

The	bear	called	upon	all	of	his	strength	to	conjure	a	red	sphere	that	freed	him

from	the	ocean’s	wrath.	The	cascading	waters	of	the	new	sea	went	around	him	as if	 he	 were	 an	 animal	 Moses,	 parting	 this	 sea	 made	 red	 with	 the	 blood	 of	 the animals.	 So	 consumed	 was	 Azaz	 with	 proving	 that	 he	 was	 above	 the	 fury	 of King	 Blu	 that	 Fowler	 cast	 a	 spell	 uniting	 Azaz’s	 sphere	 to	 his	 own.	 The	 new sphere,	 a	 yellow	 fire	 now	 spurting	 blood	 red,	 consumed	 the	 bear	 god	 as	 the flames	 began	 eating	 at	 those	 that	 made	 up	 his	 deific	 body.	 Fowler	 took	 the moment	to	use	his	serrated	gold	spear	to	cut	the	crown	from	Azaz’s	head.	When

the	crown	fell,	Azaz’s	sphere	fell	with	it.	The	fiery	body	of	the	short-faced	bear matched	with	a	grizzly’s	was	no	more.	Having	shed	his	old	body,	Azaz	simply

saw	his	flames	vanquished	by	the	ocean.	Azaz	growled	a	godlike	battle	cry	out

to	 the	 world	 until	 he	 was	 washed	 to	 nothingness.	 Fowler,	 his	 sphere	 of	 power united	with	that	of	his	enemy,	also	lost	control.	The	ocean	swelled	in,	sweeping

both	 the	 extinguishing	 fire	 of	 the	 bear	 god	 and	 the	 wizard	 warrior	 up	 in	 its gargantuan	waves.	Azaz	disappeared.	Fowler	breathed	his	last	breath.

Watching	from	the	icy	rocks	far	away	from	the	ocean	were	Moon	Shadow	and

the	other	injured	lords.	A	host	of	animal	surgeons,	from	Sky	Death	to	Gray	Eyes

to	Snow	Prophet,	nursed	their	wounds.	Still,	they	could	not	protect	their	patients from	 the	 horrifying	 end	 of	 the	 war.	 Moon	 Shadow	 and	 the	 injured	 lords

witnessed	King	Croc	and	Xrata	ruthlessly	attack,	dismember,	and	eat	any	of	The

Blood	Paw	not	fortunate	enough	to	make	it	to	higher	ground	in	time.

“White	Claw,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“We	must	save	him.”

“He	 betrayed	 your	 people,”	 Zulta	 said,	 nursing	 his	 own	 wounds.	 “Let	 him die.”

“We	 must	 come	 together	 or	 forever	 stand	 apart,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “I	 am not	Snow	Prophet,	yet	I	know	this	is	true.”

The	animal	lords	looked	at	one	another	before	signaling	to	Thraxis.

“Your	anacondas	swim,	do	they	not?”	Groth	The	Impaler	asked.	“Perhaps	you

can	lend	a	hand,	given	how	few	of	your	snakes	saw	battle.”

Thraxis,	 like	 the	 other	 animal	 lords,	 had	 seen	 Azaz’s	 extinguishing	 fire.	 The snake	 empress	 thought	 of	 the	 missing	 crown	 first	 and	 foremost.	 “My	 snakes saved	many	of	your	animals’	lives,”	she	said.	“Yet,	I	see	that	it	also	falls	on	me to	save	your	precious	king.”

With	a	single	mighty	hiss,	Thraxis	ordered	her	legions	to	bring	anything	they

found	to	her.	The	anacondas,	strong	swimmers,	found	the	bodies	of	White	Claw

and	Vronkyl	first,	among	other	lost	bears.	Vronkyl	was	clearly	dead,	limp	as	low

tide,	but	White	Claw	still	clung	to	life.	Two	anacondas	brought	the	fallen	polar

bear	king	on	their	backs	to	their	great	queen.	The	others	still	searched	the	waters for	the	crown.

Gasping	 for	 air,	 White	 Claw	 turned	 to	 face	 the	 other	 lords	 in	 his	 dying

moments.	 “Why	 did	 you	 bring	 me	 here?”	 he	 asked.	 “Isn’t	 it	 enough	 for	 you	 to see	the	ruin	of	my	people?”

Moon	 Shadow	 fought	 to	 move	 and	 look	 at	 the	 polar	 bear	 king	 eye	 to	 eye, against	the	healers’	orders.

“I	want	us	to	work	to	unify	all	animals,”	she	said.	“I	want	there	to	be	no	more

divisions.”

Seeing	 the	 sincerity	 in	 the	 wolf	 queen’s	 battle-worn	 eyes,	 White	 Claw

softened,	 if	 only	 for	 a	 moment.	 “Once,	 we	 started	 a	 great	 experiment	 together, Animus,	a	home	and	guiding	philosophy	for	all	animals,”	he	said.	“I	can	see 	 this day	that	you	were	right,	wolf	queen.	Animals	cannot	fall	to	hatred	or	to	fear,	as

the	 rulku	did.	After	the	wounds	I	received	from	the	 rulku	wizard,	I	fell	to	both, I’m	afraid.	My	polar	bears	paid	a	bitter	price	for	my	failure	as	a	king.”

White	Claw	gasped,	adding:	“You	are	a	far	more	worthy	ruler	than	I	ever	was,

Moon	Shadow.	May	you	bring	whatever	bears	survive	back	to	 Animus	with	my

blessing.	My	dying	wish	is	one	with	yours:	that	all	animals	work	together	for	a

common	 future.	 May	 we	 now	 part	 as	 friends	 who	 have	 for	 so	 long	 been	 on opposite	sides	of	fortune.”

With	 those	 words,	 White	 Claw	 joined	 Vronkyl	 in	 death.	 Moved	 by	 White

Claw’s	 words,	 the	 animal	 lords	 almost	 missed	 the	 glittering	 red	 sphere	 the anacondas	fished	from	the	sea.	The	giant	blue	sphere,	the	presence	of	King	Blu

above	the	waters,	stopped	the	snakes	in	their	tracks.

“This	power,”	Moon	Shadow	said,	“is	too	great	for	any	of	us.	No	animal	lord

should	rule	over	another.	We	should	rule	together,	as	equals.”

“Agreed,”	Yorba	said.	“Even	an	old,	battle-scarred	gorilla	like	me	can	see	that

the	age	of	animal	tyrants	is	at	an	end.”

The	animal	lords	each	assented	until	they	looked	at	Thraxis.	Thraxis	thought

of	striking,	of	killing	for	the	crown,	but	King	Blu	held	the	crown	high	in	the	sky, above	the	reach	of	even	the	mighty	anaconda	queen.

“The	will	of	the	council	of	animal	lords	shall	be	observed,”	King	Blu	decreed.

“And	what	shall	become	of	The	Mystical	Crown	Of	Fire?”

“Let	King	Blu	hold	on	to	it	for	safekeeping,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“That	way,

if	 any	 of	 us	 thirst	 too	 much	 for	 power	 and	 violate	 the	 will	 of	 the	 council,”	 she added,	looking	directly	at	Thraxis,	“that	animal	will	have	to	answer	to	the	oldest and	wisest	of	kings.”

“Well	 urged,”	 another	 voice,	 that	 of	 the	 father	 of	 animals,	 from	 so	 long	 ago, said.	 “This	 day	 you	 start	 down	 a	 road	 different	 from	 that	 of	 the	 rulku. In	 one generation,	you	have	learned	the	lesson	of	tyranny.	Think	of	what	may	happen	in

two	or	three	or	four?	Perhaps	one	day	we	will	see	the	face	of	King	Blu	and	be

worthy	of	the	sight.”





Fowler’s	glittering	nanobots	circled	around,	as	much	a	part	of	the	plants	and

the	sea	as	of	the	air.

“Nurvlyn?	That’s	not	you?”	Sky	Death	asked.

“Nurvlyn	is	now	a	part	of	All	That	Is,”	Fowler	said.	“I	am	here	as	part	animal,

part	plant,	part	 rulku,	part	ether.	I	am	here	to	send	you	my	blessings	before	I	am to	be	reborn	to	help	my	people	usher	in	the	will	of	 Avrah, 	the	creator	of	us	all.

My	 will	 is	 that	 of	 Moon	 Shadow	 and	 White	 Claw:	 a	 newer,	 better	 relationship with	the	earth	and	all	of	its	creatures,	down	to	the	smallest	particle	of	Creation.”

“For	that	is	 Ozu,”	Snow	Prophet	said.	And,	for	once,	the	animals	agreed	with the	 rulku.

Just	as	quickly	as	the	great	blue	sphere	of	the	sea	arose,	it	sank	to	the	farthest depths	 of	 the	 unknown	 oceans.	 And	 just	 as	 quickly,	 the	 monoliths	 glowed yellow,	 and	 the	 sea	 and	 its	 mighty	 whale,	 shark,	 and	 dolphin	 warriors

disappeared,	 along	 with	 King	 Croc	 and	 his	 legions.	 Still,	 the	 message	 that	 was sent	was	a	clear	one:	whereas	one	bear	god	summoned	the	power	of	the	elements

of	the	earth,	this	king	of	the	ocean	could	sweep	over	any	of	the	great	continental kingdoms	 with	 a	 single	 thought,	 and	 it	 would	 be	 as	 if	 they	 never	 were.	 The animals	sat	in	a	minute,	shuddering	in	the	sublime	presence	of	King	Blu,	before

turning	 to	 the	 matter	 of	 burying	 the	 dead,	 noble	 animals	 whose	 bodies	 were plentiful	enough	to	rival	even	Azaz’s	 rulku	crematoria.

CHAPTER	41

Iykra	Toyle

Antarctica

The	 burials	 took	 moon	 cycles—so	 many	 dead	 from	 all	 the	 different	 continents had	 to	 be	 gathered.	 With	 each	 new	 body,	 it	 dawned	 on	 the	 animal	 lords:	 there had	to	be	a	better	way.	And	so,	they	eulogized	Fowler,	calling	him	an	inspiration

for	 every	 rulku, 	 for	 every	 wizard,	 for	 every	 plant	 and	 every	 animal	 walking	 or crawling	upon	the	face	of	the	earth.	They	eulogized	White	Claw,	reminding	the

animals	of	the	world,	through	the	holosphere,	of	his	last	wish,	a	wish	for	peace

that	the	animal	lords	intended	to	uphold.	And,	finally,	they	eulogized	Azaz.	As

there	 was	 no	 body,	 the	 last	 of	 the	 grizzlies	 of	 the	 mountains,	 a	 small	 but ferocious	population,	were	allowed	to	turn	Bear	Mountain	peak	into	a	tomb	for

the	fallen	king	of	kings.	They	built	a	giant	golden	tomb	with	a	sleeping	bear	in

the	likeness	of	the	great	bear	god	that	they	honored	and	knew.	The	animal	lords

allowed	 them	 to	 speak	 of	 the	 bravery	 of	 their	 fallen	 bear	 brothers	 and	 sisters.

But,	even	after	the	burials	and	eulogies,	there	was	much	healing	to	be	done.	The

animal	 lords	 had	 to	 mend	 themselves.	 Then	 they	 had	 to	 meet	 for	 many	 sun cycles	on	the	matter	of	the	 rulku.

Those	 meetings	 brought	 the	 animal	 lords	 and	 the	 last	 of	 the	 rulku	 to	 The Antarctandes,	 as	 the	 mountains	 of	 Iykra	 Toyle	 were	 once	 known.	 Their	 peaks stood	majestically	in	the	background,	their	icy	tips	flowing	down	to	all	kinds	of

Antarctic	hair	grass	and	pearlwort	that	cascaded	into	bristlecone	pines,	firs,	and redwoods,	the	first	trees	the	continent	had	seen	in	eons	before	the	history	of	the rulku.	All	around	the	mountains,	some	of	the	tallest	and	most	majestic	on	Earth, in	 the	 flowing	 glacial	 streams,	 the	 last	 of	 the	 rulku	could	see	the	handiwork	of Methuselah.	 While	 the	 animals	 fought	 over	 a	 crown	 that	 meant	 only	 that	 one animal	had	the	right	to	rule	another,	Methuselah	and	her	six	sisters	worked	with

the	 global	 plant	 community	 to	 seed	 a	 continent	 with	 new	 life.	 Even	 Hunter General	Brigand,	as	he	was	known,	stood	speechless	in	the	moment	at	hand.	A

new	 Eden,	 as	 the	 rulku	 knew	 it,	 was	 before	 them,	 one	 that	 would	 be	 hard	 and merciless	but	also	an	opportunity	none	of	their	kind	had	seen	since	the	dawn	of

ages.

“It’s	beautiful	beyond	words,”	Brigand	said.	“It’s	impossible	to	believe	that,	in

ancient	 times,	 this	 was	 the	 most	 desolate	 ice	 desert	 the	 world	 had	 ever	 known.

Methuselah	has	worked	wonders.”

“She	 is	 an	 artist,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “We	 need	 so	 many	 more	 like	 her.

Would	that	she	could	live	forever	instead	of	the	few	ages	she	has	left.”

“Amen	to	that,”	Brigand	replied.

Moon	Shadow	stood	with	the	other	animal	lords,	with	Thunder	Killer,	Yu	The

Golden	Nightmare,	Zulta,	Yorba,	King	Croc,	Groth	The	Impaler,	The	Night	Eye,

and	even	Thraxis,	on	the	shores	of	this	new,	unseen	world.

“The	 council	 of	 the	 six	 kingdoms	 has	 met,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “For	 your valor	 in	 the	 great	 battle	 with	 Azaz,	 we	 would	 like	 to	 form	 a	 seventh	 kingdom, one	led	by	Methuselah’s	plant	kingdom	and	the	 rulku. 	 We	 have	 consulted	 with the	 majesty	 of	 the	 sea,	 King	 Blu,	 who	 has	 studied	 one	 million	 different outcomes.	He	has	insisted	that	so	long	as	the	 rulku	are	prohibited	the	use	of	their thinking	 machines,	 this	 will	 be	 the	 best	 possible	 outcome	 for	 your	 species.	 It comes	at	a	price,	however.	Methuselah’s	children	need	tending.	You	would	work

in	 holy	 communion	 with	 them	 so	 that	 the	 beauty	 of	 this	 land	 never	 fades.	 I

would	like	you	to	lead	your	people	in	settling	here,	Hunter	General.”

Brigand	stood	for	a	moment,	lost	in	the	surprisingly	gentle	Antarctic	breezes.

He	 shook	 his	 head,	 as	 if	 to	 shake	 off	 the	 memories	 of	 a	 world	 now	 gone.	 “I appreciate	your	offer,”	Brigand	said.	“But	I	think	back	on	the	old	world,	on	what

I	 did.	 I	 supervised	 some	 of	 the	 great	 crematories	 in	 the	 North,	 back	 when animals	first	felt	The	Great	Awakening.	I	have	many	sins.	I	do	not	wish	to	stain

so	fresh	and	so	pure	a	land	in	blood.”

“We	know	this,”	The	Night	Eye	said.	“And	there	are	some	on	the	council	who

felt	 that	 you	 should	 be	 tried	 as	 a	 war	 criminal.	 But	 others	 said	 that	 you	 fought with	valor	for	animals	and	 rulku	alike.	It	was	said,	in	the	first	days	of	war,	that you	 sought	 to	 prevent	 an	 attack	 that	 would	 have	 decimated	 the	 animals	 of Animus.	We	animal	lords	were	not	so	kind	when	it	came	to	using	plague	to	end the	war	with	the	 rulku. 	 The	 council	 deliberated	 on	 these	 points	 at	 great	 length.

The	council	felt	that	even	animal	lords	would	have	to	be	held	accountable	if	you

were	tried	and	sentenced.	We	wish	to	move	beyond	war	and	to	let	it	wash	away

with	the	body	of	Azaz.	We	wish	to	have	a	leader	among	the	 rulku	that	is	not	so eager	to	kill,	one	who	understands	the	value	of	life.”

“And	you	will	have	guidance,”	the	wind	said,	in	the	voice	of	Fowler.

Tiny	blue	nanobots	circled	vibrantly	in	the	Antarctic	winds.	“As	Methuselah

and	 Nurvlyn	 taught	 me,	 so	 I	 will	 teach	 you,”	 Fowler	 said,	 “if	 in	 the	 body	 of another.”

“No	 animal	 kingdom	 shall	 be	 alone,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “Not	 even	 that	 of the	 rulku. ”

Brigand	 took	 a	 moment	 to	 think	 about	 the	 words	 that	 were	 spoken.	 “Thank you,”	he	said	to	the	animal	lords.	“You	have	much	wisdom.	We	will	form	a	new

civilization	 here	 before	 I	 pass	 on.	 We	 will	 start	 over,	 learning,	 under Methuselah’s	 watchful	 eye,	 to	 be	 true	 stewards	 of	 the	 earth.	 In	 the	 words	 of Adam,	from	our	ancient	 rulku	book	 Paradise	Lost, 	‘How	shall	I	behold	the	face henceforth	 of	 God	 or	 angel,	 erst	 with	 joy	 and	 rapture	 so	 oft	 beheld?	 Those heavenly	 shapes	 will	 dazzle	 now	 this	 earthly,	 with	 their	 blaze	 insufferably bright.’	 Still,	 unlike	 Adam,	 I	 would	 behold	 your	 majesty,	 animal	 lords,	 even	 in exile.	 I	 hope	 you	 use	 it	 to	 restore	 the	 earth	 to	 absolute	 splendor.	 I	 pray	 you succeed	where	mankind	failed.	The	earth	deserves	as	much.”

“We	will	rise	or	fall	together,”	Zulta	said.	“In	time,	once	you	have	learned	the

lessons	Methuselah	and	Fowler	have	to	teach	you,	you	shall	have	a	presence	on

the	ruling	council	too.”

“Let	 us	 depart	 as	 friends,”	 Yu	 The	 Golden	 Nightmare	 said,	 “rather	 than	 as enemies.”

Brigand	bowed	his	head	before	each	animal	lord	in	turn,	even	Thraxis.	“You



were	a	formidable	foe,	snake	empress,”	Brigand	said.	“I	would	rather	have	you	a

friend	than	an	enemy,	if	that	is	okay	with	you.”

“In	 time,	 we	 shall	 see,”	 Thraxis	 said,	 simply.	 “Not	 even	 King	 Blu	 knows	 all that	the	future	may	hold.”

With	 those	 parting	 words,	 Brigand	 called	 to	 his	 people.	 One-hundred	 or	 so fighters	 remained,	 including	 Ruth	 The	 Lawless.	 She	 walked	 closely	 behind

Fowler.	 Like	 all	 of	 the	 rulku	 warriors,	 she	 was	 intrigued	 but	 fearful	 about whatever	 lay	 ahead.	 Yet,	 as	 humanity	 did	 in	 the	 dawn	 of	 Creation,	 when	 they first	 walked	 upright,	 they	 persevered	 in	 their	 new	 journey.	 Against	 predators from	 ages	 past,	 when	 they	 first	 found	 fire;	 against	 the	 unthinkable	 fury	 of endless	 oceans,	 when	 they	 first	 wove	 rafts	 and	 crafted	 ships;	 against	 buffeting storms	 and	 volcanic	 blasts	 that	 might	 have	 decimated	 the	 entire	 species,	 when they	 first	 learned	 to	 anticipate	 and	 even	 control	 the	 weather—mankind	 always found	 a	 way	 to	 persevere,	 to	 survive,	 to	 thrive.	 That	 was	 what	 made	 the	 rulku human.	This	challenge	would	be	their	greatest,	but	the	 rulku	did	as	they	always did:	 walked	 forward,	 into	 the	 face	 of	 seemingly	 insurmountable	 obstacles,	 one assured	step	at	a	time.





EPILOGUE

The	future	is	the	past	is	the	future, 	Snow	Prophet,	the	ancient	snowy	owl	of	the great	 Northern	 regions,	 once	 scrawled	 on	 the	 holy	 tablets.	 So,	 he	 scrawls	 with his	mighty	beak	and	talons	again.

Never	before	had	the	animals	written	their	tale,	that	of	their	rise,	of	mankind’s

fall.	 Never	 before	 had	 it	 existed	 anywhere	 but	 in	 the	 rolling	 melodic	 songs	 of whales	 in	 twilight	 seas	 or	 in	 the	 cackles	 of	 geese	 flying	 overhead,	 towards	 the great	rising	sun.	It	was	the	song	every	awakened	animal	told	its	children.	And	it

was	more	than	a	song.	It	was	a	warning,	born	of	blood. Be	not	proud,	animals	of the	 earth, 	 it	 began. Every	 wing	 that	 soars	 falters;	 every	 leg	 that	 runs	 upon	 the earth	one	day	becomes	it.	What	falls,	rises.	What	rises,	falls.	For	that	is	Ozu.

This	was	the	tale	of	how	one	animal	sought	to	lord	over	all	the	others,	first	the

rulku	 beast,	 and	 then	 the	 bear	 that	 would	 be	 a	 god.	 They	 did	 not	 heed	 the warning	 of	 the	 ancestors:	 to	 understand	 something	 is	 to	 become	 it—and	 when you	become	something,	that	something	also	becomes	you.	And	so,	the	 rulku	and the	bear	god	fell	to	the	violence	that	became	them.	Azaz	is	now	crowned	as	the

Great	 Bear	 constellation	 of	 the	 skies,	 not	 in	 homage,	 but	 in	 warning. For	 the future	is	the	past	is	the	future—if	animals	do	not	learn	where	the	rulku	failed,	if all	creatures	of	the	earth	are	not	as	one.

From	 War	of	the	Animals	Book	2:	Cry	of	the	Gods

CHAPTER	1

Animus	Nor

Nunavut,	Canada

The	rise	of	the	animal	kingdoms	was	like	the	great	snowy	owl	diving	for	a	field

mouse	scurrying	over	frozen	tundra.	It	was	swift,	immediate,	and	most	of	all,	as

bloody	as	the	beak	of	the	predator	standing	over	fallen	prey.	In	the	mighty	North, the	great	bear	clans,	under	Freyda	The	Fatal,	the	bear	queen,	created	The	Cult	Of

Azaz,	erecting	glacial	boulders	into	temples	honoring	the	first	among	their	gods.

These	 temples	 were	 not	 strictly	 religious	 affairs,	 but	 centers	 for	 all	 matters	 of civic	 life,	 from	 trading	 in	 game	 meat	 and	 plants	 to	 magnificent	 halls	 of banqueting	and	recreation.	Over	the	great	waters	of	the	open	ocean,	or	 Blu-Syra, The	 Night	 Eye	 labored	 to	 create	 the	 most	 comprehensive	 air	 force	 and 	 spy network	 the	 world	 had	 ever	 seen—vast	 gaggles	 of	 birds	 that	 became	 the

communication	conduits	of	the	entire	animal	kingdom	and	controlled	most	of	the

capital.	And	even	the	heart	of	Animus	stood	firmly	beating,	with	an	aging	Moon

Shadow	 overseeing	 the	 first	 constitutions	 and	 trading	 agreements	 the	 animal world	had	ever	known.	But	perhaps	no	kingdom	stood	out	as	so	radiant	a	light	as

The	Great	Star	of	the	Southern	Sky, Gola	Dwyn, 	as	the	kingdom	of	Thraxis	and her	snakes	was	christened.

Thraxis’s	 Amazonian	 riverbed	 became	 a	 haven	 for	 all	 matters	 of	 scientific inquiry.	Great,	lording	thinking	machines	towered	to	the	skies,	wards	protecting

the	 emerging	 river	 cities.	 In	 the	 waters,	 the	 nanobots	 and	 the	 snake	 lords experimented	with	all	matters	of	weaponry,	from	airborne	toxins	to	cloned	bird

beasts	like	Adar	Llwch	Gwin,	watching	over	the	great	water	city’s	skies.	And	so,

Time	might	have	continued	to	trickle	on	had	it	not	been	for	a	mystery	as	bright

as	 the	 great	 city	 itself:	 the	 disappearance	 of	 its	 empress.	 Sure,	 the	 great	 queen planted	a	holographic	decoy,	but	not	even	the	power	of	the	nanobots	was	precise

enough	 to	 match	 the	 unique	 skin	 and	 aura	 of	 the	 great	 Amazonian	 queen.	 At first,	 there	 were	 rumors	 of	 Thraxis’	 health.	 Perhaps	 the	 aging	 Empress	 of	 All Snakes	was	having	troubles	with	her	massive	girth.	Another	rumor,	told	by	more

than	a	few	ravens,	was	that	a	toxin	Thraxis’	boas	labored	endlessly	on	infected

her,	killing	the	gargantuan	snake	where	she	lay.	Still,	a	third	rumor,	a	favorite	of the	 falcons,	 was	 that	 of	 abduction.	 The	 rumor	 held	 that	 The	 Night	 Eye	 had reprogrammed	 one	 of	 her	 sky	 terrors,	 a	 legion	 of	 thunderbirds	 gifted	 by	 The Night	Eye	to	the	various	clans,	to	snatch	the	giant	snake	queen	for	ransom.	Even

the	 most	 trusting	 stoat	 laughed	 at	 the	 idea	 that	 so	 massive	 a	 snake	 could	 be hidden	from	view.	But	the	animal	lords	were	not	convinced	that	all	was	well	in

the	snake	capital	city	of	 Gola	Dwyn.

And	 so,	 in	 the	 thirtieth	 sun	 season	 of	 recorded	 Time,	 Moon	 Shadow	 called upon	 Thunder	 Killer	 The	 Regal	 to	 determine	 if	 the	 gallant	 eagles	 had	 seen anything.	 Thunder	 Killer	 came	 before	 his	 old	 ally	 with	 words	 the	 wolf	 queen was	hardly	ready	to	hear.

Moon	Shadow	sat	perched	in	The	Sun	Den,	the	greatest	of	the	etched	dens	of

the	snow	mountains	reaching	down	the	nape	of	the	former	British	Columbia.	She

was	 still	 white	 as	 moon	 glow,	 with	 only	 a	 sliver	 of	 black	 pupil	 in	 her	 yellow eyes.	The	wolf	queen	was	older	now,	a	mother	to	all	the	animals	of	the	world,	a

guide	to	the	many	awakening	animals	of	the	next	generation.

“Great	Queen	of	 Animus	Nor,”	Thunder	Killer	said.

Thunder	Killer	bowed	his	noble	white	head,	but	even	he	was	not	as	nimble	or

as	mighty	as	in	the	days	before	his	battles	with	Azaz.	The	wise	old	bird	reigned

over	 the	 western	 province	 of	 Animus	 now,	 which	 included	 The	 Rockies	 that housed	the	bear	kingdom	of	old.

“My	eagles	come	from	the	western	borders,	from	The	Oracle	Perch,”	Thunder

Killer	 said,	 “with	 news	 of	 snakes	 moving	 by	 Gol-Kilpyne,	 by	 the	 great	 fire mountain.	 Our	 eyes	 spotted	 a	 trace	 signature	 there,	 one	 of	 highly	 advanced nanotechnology.”

“Thraxis’s	 echo,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “She	 moves	 in	 the	 night,	 like	 a

hologram.	My	spies	warned	me	of	this.	But	why	 Gol-Kilpyne?	What	treasure	do the	fires	hide	without	their	crown?”

“No	 one	 can	 say,	 my	 queen,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 answered.	 “We’ve	 been

monitoring	 the	 messages	 of	 the	 snakes	 of	 Animus	 Sur.	 Even	 they	 seem	 baffled by	the	sudden	disappearance	of	their	great	queen.	That	is	why,	our	hawks	tell	us,

the	 snakes	 move	 so.	 They	 are	 searching	 for	 their	 empress	 under	 orders	 of	 her great	general,	Vesper.”

“It	 must	 be	 a	 deception,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “Deceit	 is	 the	 language	 of	 the snake.	 Why	 would	 an	 empress	 just	 up	 and	 leave	 her	 empire	 without	 a	 word	 to any	animal?	Why	would	she	not	bring	guards,	riches,	weapons?	How	would	the

largest	 snake	 in	 the	 world	 simply	 slither	 away	 from	 the	 river	 swamps

undetected?”

“All	 fair	 questions,	 wolf	 queen,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said,	 “and	 ones	 neither	 my

spies	nor	I	can	answer.	Should	we	reach	out	to	The	Night	Eye?	Surely,	Mother Raven	would	have	seen	the	meaning	behind	the	movements,	something	we	may

have	missed.”

Moon	 Shadow	 sat	 staring	 at	 the	 noble	 bird,	 her	 thoughts	 fluttering	 like feathers	in	a	rough	wind.	She	knew	that	Thunder	Killer	spoke	true.	But	she	also

knew	 that	 The	 Night	 Eye	 could	 never	 be	 trusted,	 least	 of	 all	 in	 times	 of	 peace and	prosperity.	Any	opportunity	to	find	any	morsel	of	information	that	eluded	a

king	 or	 queen	 would	 be	 a	 treasure	 they	 would	 brood	 on	 for	 a	 while,	 until	 the most	opportune	moment.

“Not	 yet,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “First,	 we	 must	 speak	 with	 Snow	 Prophet.”

Thunder	Killer	gasped	in	shock.	“The	prophet	of	The	War	of	the	 Rulku?	He	was my	friend	too,	great	queen,	but	who	has	seen	him	in	the	last	thirty	sun	seasons?

Not	my	eagles,	the	lords	of	the	skies—I	can	tell	you	that.	His	location	is	as	much of	a	mystery	as	that	of	Thraxis	herself.”

“True,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “Yet,	 something	 tells	 me	 that	 finding	 Snow

Prophet	is	the	key	to	finding	the	reason	as	to	why	Thraxis	disappeared,	which	is

more	important	than	finding	the	great	snake	queen	herself.”

“Nonetheless,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said,	 “if	 two	 queens	 disappear	 from	 Animus Nor	and	 Animus	Sur, 	will	that	not	be	the	talk	of	the	animal	world?”

“Undoubtedly,”	 Moon	 Shadow	 said.	 “This	 is	 why	 I’ve	 summoned	 you.

Tomorrow,	I	will	announce	a	great	hunt	of	the	old	lords	of	 Animus	to	mark	the end	 of	 the	 war	 thirty	 sun	 seasons	 ago.	 Only,	 it	 will	 not	 be	 us.	 Sky	 Death	 has found	 almost	 exact	 replicas—a	 bit	 younger	 and	 blither,	 but	 near	 replicas	 if filmed	from	certain	angles.	As	the	animal	world	celebrates	The	Great	Hunt,	we

shall	head	to	the	living	oracle	and	get	our	answers.”

“You	think	Snow	Prophet	is	with	Methuselah	The	Witch	Queen?”

“No,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“I	think	Snow	Prophet	was	once	with	Methuselah

and	 is	 now	 in	 hiding.	 Why,	 I	 don’t	 know.	 All	 I	 can	 say	 is	 that	 when	 all	 the oracles	 of	 the	 world	 congregate	 and	 then	 go	 silent,	 there	 is	 a	 reason	 for	 it.

Whatever	 Snow	 Prophet	 discovered	 that	 sent	 him	 from	 his	 lofty	 perch	 on	 Rul-Seerus	might	be	the	same	thing	that	sends	Thraxis	into	the	fires	of	 Gol-Kilpyne. ”

“And	us	after	her,”	Thunder	Killer	said.

“Yes,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“This	fragile	peace	is	too	great	to	risk	another	war.

Yet,	for	all	these	years,	Thraxis	and	the	snakes	of	 Gola	Dwyn	have	been	toiling on	 their	 technology—toiling	 for	 what?	 Perhaps	 for	 this	 moment.	 We	 should	 at least	find	out.”

“Agreed,	 wolf	 queen,”	 Thunder	 Killer	 said.	 “Let	 us	 put	 together	 a	 group	 of our	most	cunning	warriors	and	leave	tonight.”

“Few—and	only	those	you	absolutely	trust,”	Moon	Shadow	said.	“I	shall	see



you	at	 Rul-Seerus	tonight.	We	shall	leave	from	there.”

With	that,	Thunder	Killer	took	his	leave,	skulking	about	the	shadows	for	the

perfect	moment	to	take	flight,	undetected.

Table	of	Contents

PROLOGUE

TABLET	1:

THE	RAPSYS

CHAPTER	1

CHAPTER	2

CHAPTER	3

CHAPTER	4

CHAPTER	5

CHAPTER	6

CHAPTER	7

CHAPTER	8

CHAPTER	9

CHAPTER	10

CHAPTER	11

CHAPTER	12

CHAPTER	13

TABLET	2:

THE	WAR	OF	THE	RULKU

CHAPTER	14

CHAPTER	15

CHAPTER	16

CHAPTER	17

CHAPTER	18

CHAPTER	19

CHAPTER	20

CHAPTER	21

CHAPTER	22

CHAPTER	23

CHAPTER	24

CHAPTER	25

CHAPTER	26

CHAPTER	27

CHAPTER	28

CHAPTER	29

CHAPTER	30

CHAPTER	31

CHAPTER	32

CHAPTER	33

CHAPTER	34

TABLET	3:

THE	WAR	OF	THE	ANIMALS

CHAPTER	35

CHAPTER	36

CHAPTER	37

CHAPTER	38

CHAPTER	39

CHAPTER	40

CHAPTER	41

EPILOGUE





Document Outline


PROLOGUE

TABLET 1:

THE RAPSYS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

TABLET 2:

THE WAR OF THE RULKU

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

TABLET 3:

THE WAR OF THE ANIMALS

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

EPILOGUE