Cloak (YA Fantasy) (7 page)

“I don’t blame you. We must be quite the shock.” Dr. Noctua rotated his head clockwise. “The question you must ask yourself is
why
do you think this is in your imagination?”

“You and her. It’s impossible. Because talking owls and women with…with tails don’t exist.”

“That’s logical. That’s what you’ve been taught to believe. But tell me why you, Wilhelm Tuttle, are convinced that I am not real? Why don’t you believe your own eyes?”

“I…I don’t know. It’s just that…I just don’t know.” Will cradled his head in his hands.

“Yes, you do. You know the answer. Why can this not be happening?” Dr. Noctua was leaning forward, urging Will to say the words.

“Because!” Will almost shouted. “I’m the only one who sees you. You and her.” He pointed at Kaya. “And the sheep girl in the park, and the woman with scales that lives near Main Street. All of them. I see them everywhere and no one else does. Nobody except me.” Will squeezed his eyes shut, holding back tears of frustration.

“I believe you.” Dr. Noctua’s voice was full of sincerity. “I believe you can see them all, because I see them, too. I see them every day. Men with heads like camels, or children with webbed duck feet. And when I look in the mirror I see an owl with spectacles.” Noctua held up his arm and extended his feathers, twisting them in the light. “I see all of these strange beings because I am one of them. But you, Wilhelm, you see us because you are special.”

“Special how?”

Dr. Noctua leaned forward and put a feathered hand on Will’s shoulder. “I’ll show you.” The old doctor used the cane to step to the floor. He waddled to the far side of the bubble and pried open a worn black satchel. The ancient leather-bound book was tattered, with giant brass clasps and flaking pages. Dr. Noctua carried it back and heaved it onto the bed.

“You must first understand enchants. To understand enchants, you have to know our history. We do not share it with outsiders, but for you, the exception must be made.” The owl took a steadying breath. “Now, what I am about to tell you may seem like the stuff of legend or fairytale, but I assure you this is no bedtime story.” He brushed the dust off the cover with feathered fingers.

Grimm’s Unabridged History of Enchants
was embossed in faded gold. Dr. Noctua opened the book to Chapter One: Gladius Encánto.

8

Gladius Encánto

D
r. Noctua turned to a page with an illustration of a man changing into a goat. Five stages of transformation showed his body contorting, then bubbling. Horns and fur sprouted from his skin. His hands fused into cloven hooves. A tail stretched from his back. His nose and mouth twisted into a goat-like muzzle. The man’s face was contorted in such intense pain that it caused Will to wince.

“You see, man has always lusted after power over others.” Dr. Noctua paraphrased as he read. “Prehistoric clubs and sticks were traded for swords and spears. Weapons of war ravaged ancient societies, taking them to the brink of destruction. Then something was invented that was so terrible that it silenced every war—bringing peace, but at a horrific price. The weapon was called Gladius Encánto. Its power was a thing of nightmares.

“Gladius Encánto was a poison. No. More than a poison—a potion, a complex brew derived from exotic plants, poisonous beasts, and sulfuric minerals. It was said to be the ultimate power over one’s enemies, the power to transform men into animals.

“Most believe Gladius Encánto originated in the temple of the Greek goddess Athena. Her high priestesses would demonstrate the potion’s power in an annual ritual by changing some poor soul into a hideous creature before exiling it from society. Scrolls from the Parthenon spoke of the formation of men with the head of a bull. Half-men, half-horses, and snake-women. Women were given tails like fish and men turned into goat creatures. The list goes on.”

Dr. Noctua showed Will ancient depictions of mutated humans. It looked like a catalog of Greek mythology. The Minotaur, Medusa, Satyrs, and Centaurs covered the page.

“Gladius Encánto means the
chanting sword,
because during the long brewing process, Athena’s priestesses chanted or sang for days. What they had invented was a source of organic radiation capable of rearranging human DNA, kind of a gene-splicing, radioactive soup. When inhaled or ingested, Gladius Encánto stripped away part of the human DNA and replaced it with animal genetic traits, morphing man into a mutant. Something as powerful as Gladius Encánto is impossible to contain, and soon Greece’s terrible weapon had spread across the globe like a cancer.”

Dr. Noctua turned the pages, cocking his head to judge Will’s reaction to each new illustration. There was a drawing of an Egyptian Pharaoh surrounded by jackal-headed guards. Women with faces of falcons were depicted next to warriors with lion heads and tails.

On the next page was an etching from a Chinese vase showing a woman with the body of a serpent, a child transforming into a koi fish, and humanoid versions of cranes, deer, and pandas.

Will took in every image as Dr. Noctua flipped from one ancient culture to the next. An Indian wall painting showed men with eight limbs and women with wings. Mayan carvings of jaguar-men came next. There was a depiction of tiny people with pointed ears and the tails of squirrels dancing at Stonehenge. Pages were covered in renderings of half-human animals that Will had always assumed were nothing but myth.

Dr. Noctua took his time, only moving on when Will was ready.

“For thousands of years, ancient cultures used Gladius Encánto to keep their own subjects in check. But when the Romans conquered Greece, they stole the secret and produced Gladius Encánto in massive quantities, sending it at the head of their conquering armies. Under Roman orders, complete villages were obliterated by the devastating weapon, leaving behind mutations that would affect generations.”

There was an etching of a burning village full of men and women writhing in pain as they turned into pigs.

“The Roman Empire wielded the new weapon like a toy, eventually leading to the empire’s downfall. But when Rome crumbled, Gladius Encánto fell into the hands of warlords and despots who used it to carve up the Roman Empire amongst themselves.

“Dozens of small kingdoms were born, each ruled by a royal family wielding the terrible weapon. As they rose in glory, they left behind a wake of disfigured foes—not animal, but not quite human.”

“Doctor?” Will interrupted cautiously. “Is that what happened to you? This Gladius Enc…”

“Encánto.”

“…Encánto. Did you get attacked or something?”

Kaya snorted at Will’s question, but the doctor answered patiently.

“No, not directly. My ancestors were changed anciently, long before the Roman conquests. But, once someone is affected by the change, they pass it along to their children and their children. I was born with feathers just like my grandparents and hundreds of generations before them.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Never apologize for wanting to know the truth,” Dr. Noctua said, pointing a crooked feather and pressing his face close to Will’s. “Truth is elusive. We must never give up the chase, no matter the cost. You understand?”

Will nodded.

Dr. Noctua adjusted his spectacles, turning to a chapter titled ‘Innocent Victims.’

“For several hundred years, kingdoms rose and fell by Gladius Encánto. But, in the 1300s, a war broke out in Europe that changed the world forever. Greedy kings tried to conquer the continent using Gladius Encánto. The common people were caught in the crossfire. Thousands of innocents were changed into half-animal, half-humans. Those that were transformed were the lucky ones. The barrage of Gladius Encánto only changed some people. The rest were poisoned by its intense radiation and died of what history now calls the Black Plague.”

“You’re saying that the Black Plague was a big cover-up?”

“Indeed.”

“What about chasing truth and all that?”

Noctua peered at Will over his glasses. “Some truth must be locked away for the safety of others. Sometimes it leaves deep scars that must be covered in order to allow them to heal.”

With that, the doctor took a sip of water from a plastic hospital cup on the bedside tray, leaving a puncture hole with the tip of his beak.

He continued, “By the time the war had ended, thousands had become outcasts, monsters in their own lands. These Gladius Encánto-affected people, encántos, or
enchants,
as we are known today, passed their animal traits on to their children. Soon, entire families of enchants with similar mutations began to unite into large colonies for protection. As the colonies expanded, the same rulers whose wars devastated so many began a crusade to rid the world of the new enchant threat. Enchants were hunted to the brink of extinction.”

“Hunted?” asked Will. “But why?”

Dr. Noctua rested the book in his lap and plucked at his chin feathers for a moment. “Because they were different. Their animal sides made them faster, stronger, and physically superior to their enemies.”

“But that’s no reason to kill someone,” argued Will.

Dr. Noctua clicked his beak together. “Agreed. However, not everyone is as enlightened as you are. In fact, what kept enchants from being exterminated was the very thing that changed them in the first place—Gladius Encánto.”

“I thought Gladius Encánto was bad.”

Dr. Noctua held up a feather. “Ah, so did the enchant chemist who accidentally discovered that a certain fibrous by-product of the Gladius Encánto process could mask the animal traits of any enchant. When the fibers were woven into a fabric and worn by an enchant, it would hide the genetic change. The fabric was used to make dresses, masks and gloves. Its most popular use became a large, hooded cloak—which is how the discovery, known as Cloak, got its name. Cloak allowed enchants to avoid genocide, although the crudeness of its effect permitted only minimal contact with normal society.”

Dr. Noctua flipped through the weathered pages until he came to a faded sketch. “Ah yes. As you can see, the first Cloak was quite crude indeed.”

Will was fascinated by the illustration of an enchant with the snout and tusks of a wild bore. Next to it was a drawing of the same enchant with a thick hood covering his head. What looked like fleshy disfigurements and scarring had replaced his tusks and snout. Will thought the cloaked face was far more frightening than the original. Although looking like a deformed human might be better than being hunted as a monster.

Dr. Noctua turned to a new chapter entitled ‘Immunes.’“At first, only enchants could recognize other enchants through Cloak, but then it was discovered that a special group of non-enchants could see through Cloak as though it were never there. These unique people were called Immunes, since they were immune to the effects of Cloak.

“With the discovery of Immunes, a new strategy was adopted in the war on enchants. Immunes were recruited, given charge of armies and sent to annihilate enchants. The enchants fought back. War spread across Europe, culminating in a standoff in Germany, at the edge of the Black Forest near the village of Wik, which was the enchant’s last stronghold. The Battle of Wik lasted an entire year. Neither side would yield until two Immunes, brothers named Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm, brought both sides together to negotiate peace. The Grimms had spent years among enchants as historians, using their unique abilities to collect and preserve a history of the secret culture. They were also employed as librarians to the king. Being respected by both royalty and enchants, they were the perfect arbitrators, using wisdom and wit to eventually bring an end to the more than five hundred years of destruction that would come to be known as the Great Change War.”

Dr. Noctua flipped to an etching of the Grimm brothers.

“Wait! The Brothers Grimm?” asked Will. “Like the fairytale guys?”

Dr. Noctua grinned. “The same. What are fairytales, but just cleverly disguised truth?”

The doctor turned the page.

“In 1808, The Articles of Wik were enacted, regulating the use of Gladius Encánto for the sole purpose of making and advancing the production of Cloak. The Articles formed a peaceful relationship between enchants and all civilized nations, creating a council made up of enchants and Immunes—kind of a secret congress. This Council of Wik became the worldwide government of enchant colonies from that time until today.”

“Wait,” Will interjected, “so are there still enchant colonies in Europe?”

“Several, but not as many as in America.”

“Here?”

“Certainly, although now they are large cities. New Wik, Wyoming is roughly the size of Philadelphia.”

“Wyoming? There are no big cities in Wyoming.”

“Enchants are good at keeping their communities hidden.” Noctua winked a big yellow eye. “We are quite the secret keepers, especially when hiding ourselves from Neps.”

“Neps?”

“
Non-Enchant Persons,
not a particularly creative name, I know, yet it seems to have cemented a place in enchant vocabulary.” Dr. Noctua cleaned his glasses on his sleeve. He balanced them again on the bridge of his beak, cocking his head completely to one side.