Dapple and the Darkness

by miserikordia

It had been raining for days by the time Dapple reached the tiny inn. Her dainty paws left neat prints in mud on the wooden floor up to the front desk. The old Kacheek innkeeper frowned at the mess but smiled at Dapple when she put a large sack of coins before him.

"I'd like a room," the gray Lupess said, pulling back her hood. She shook herself off, sending water flying all over.

"One?" the white Kacheek laughed. "This is more than I bought this whole inn for!"

"Just one room, for as long as I'm in town, will be enough," Dapple said.

Nodding, he reached behind the desk and gave Dapple a brass key. "Room 23," he said, "up the stairs and to the right."

Dapple fluffed her tail absently. "Thank you."

The carved furniture had a light coating of dust. Obviously, Dapple was the most business the little inn had seen in quite a while. She shrugged, unbuttoning her green cloak and draping it over a chair. It wasn't as large as she was used to, but the room would serve her needs.

Carefully, Dapple unstrapped a leather scabbard from her hind leg and tossed it on the bed. A silver blade glittered from inside.

A soft knock on the door made Dapple jump.

On the other side of the door stood a green Gelert, her ears and tail twitching. "Jacob sent me up here to see if you had eaten yet," the Gelert sang happily.

"No, I haven't," Dapple said. "Miss...?"

"Oh! My name is Selphie," the Gelert said. "You're welcome to have supper with us."

Something about Selphie made Dapple think of her own little sister, the way she bounced about and laughed all the time. Years had passed since she'd last seen her family, but the image was strong in her mind. Dapple smiled sadly. "I think I would like that very much," she said.

Downstairs, Jacob the innkeeper had set up a small feast on a long table and held a chair out for Dapple to sit in. She took her seat and inhaled the home cooked smells of roast beef and stewed carrots. Selphie scuttled into the kitchen and brought out a tray of steaming cider.

"Thank you for inviting me," Dapple said, baring her fangs in a grin. "This looks wonderful."

Jacob waved a hand. "Thank you for stopping here at this inn!" he chuckled. "If you hadn't come tonight, I might have had to close up shop and move with my foster daughter into the city."

"Father!" Selphie barked, frowning.

"It's all right, Selphie," the Kacheek murmured. "You know we couldn't have stayed here much longer with business as it was. Ever since that blasted rumour began..."

"rumour?" Dapple questioned, sipping her cider.

"Oh," Selphie began, "there was a story going around a while back about someone disappearing into a well up in the mountains."

"A well?"

"Yes, the villagers here call it the Wishing Well," Jacob said, taking over from Selphie. "For years, it drew people to stay here at this inn so they could hike up into the mountains the next day to make a wish. Legend has it that years ago, two people of pure hearts who were very much in love went up to the well to make vows. Their love for one another angered the Dark Faerie, who used to be worshipped at that very spot. She became so jealous and enraged that she pulled one of the two into the well, to drag with her to the underworld. But she hadn't thought the other would chase after her, and in the end the lovers escaped. So folklore says that if you drop in something precious to you, you will receive something far greater in return."

Dapple nodded. "I can understand why this inn was so popular."

"It was," Jacob said proudly. "We almost couldn't hold all the visitors, but we found room somehow. We could never turn anyone away. Then things dropped off when this rumour started."

"Is it just a rumour?" Dapple asked. "Or did someone really disappear?"

"Well," Jacob said slowly, scratching his gray-whiskered chin, "there was a little boy--a Gelert about Selphie's age--that went up to the well one morning and never came back, but it was said the town watch had found large tracks back in the foothills mixed in with Gelert pawprints. It was probably a Grarrl, or--"

"You know those things don't exist," Selphie giggled. "You just use that to scare me into going to bed on time."

Jacob coughed. "I've seen those things with my own eyes, missy," he corrected. "They're huge beasts, with dripping fangs that could bite a Kacheek clean in two!"

"Anyway," Dapple interrupted, "you were saying they found tracks..."

"Yes, tracks. But even though they found them, the watch never could follow them. The sun had just set and by next morning the rains had washed them all away."

"I'd like to take a walk up there to see this place for myself," Dapple announced.

"Are you sure?" Jacob said, his eyes wide. "There's no telling what could be up there now that no one visits the well and the paths have overgrown."

"Well, from what you've told me, I should be perfectly safe. Besides, what harm can a little sightseeing do me?"

As the sun rose over the misty woods, Dapple was already well into her climb up the mountain path. Old Jacob had warned her that things had grown over but she hadn't expected so many thorny vines. Slowly, Dapple cut through the thick brambles.

"Hellooooo?" a voice called from nearby.

Dapple was surprised to see Selphie prancing towards her, a basket in her mouth. "You shouldn't be wandering around back here," Dapple growled. "You know how your father feels about this place."

Selphie's long ears and tail stopped twitching and drooped sadly. "I'm sorry," she sighed. "I thought I'd bring you a nice lunch before you went, but when I woke up you had gone."

"Well," Dapple began, "it's against my better judgment, but I'll let you come along. Just for a while, mind, then it's back home with you."

The Gelert exploded with joy. "Oh! You're so kind!" she said, giving Dapple a quick hug. "I wish I had a big sister like you around all the time!"

Rolling her eyes, Dapple returned to cutting a path towards the small summit ahead.

At the top of the mountain was an ancient stone well carved with odd symbols, steam billowing out from the top and surrounded by tiny red mushrooms. A strong odour like rotting eggs hit their noses.

"Phew! This place really stinks!" Selphie wailed.

"We'll leave as soon as I take a look at this," Dapple said, approaching the well cautiously.

Gurgling echoed softly up the well and the foul smell grew stronger.

Dapple quickly withdrew her nose. "Selphie," she said, "I want you to get back to the inn as fast as you can. Tell Jacob to start packing."

"But...what for?"

"This well is too dangerous for anyone to live so close to it," Dapple spat. "It's cursed."

Selphie's expression said she didn't understand, but would do what she was told. She turned to race down the hill.

Dapple watched her leave, then began sniffing around the base of the well. She yelped at a nip on her nose. Bloodshrooms. Those alone could have eaten a small child. She put her paws on the rim of the well. Sulfur as strong as anything from a volcano bubbled up from under boiling hot water.

"You can't possibly do any good here, you know," a voice laughed wickedly.

Slowly, Dapple turned to face a tall, thin figure dressed in violet and black flowing robes. "Dark Faerie," she snarled. "Why are you doing this?"

The Faerie smiled icily. "I am merely reclaiming what was taken from me. Soon this whole mountainside and the village below it will fall under my powers and the people will sacrifice to me again."

"You think they will want to follow you? As a Faerie, you're insane to think power alone will influence people!"

"Power is everything," the Faerie said, surrounded by a dull black glow. "Perhaps you think you are someone special to challenge me, yes?"

Dapple bared her fangs. "If it means freeing this place and keeping people from harm, then I suppose I will."

"Then let us begin!"

The ground beneath Dapple's feet heaved, knocking her onto her belly. She looked up in time to see the Faerie overhead, a dagger poised to strike at her. Rolling to one side, Dapple felt a rush of air as the Faerie missed.

"Quick little monster," the Faerie laughed, whirling to face Dapple.

Dapple drew her own blade then, the short sword ringing as it left it's scabbard.

The Faerie paused, her eyes widening slightly. "Wh-where did you come by that?" she demanded. "Who did you have to defeat?"

"Where you're going, it will be the least of your worries," Dapple growled.

With a scream of rage, the Dark Faerie lunged forwards blindly, easily being avoided by the Lupess. Dapple brought the flat of her blade against the Faerie's head, sending her to her stomach.

"No!" the Faerie shrieked, tugging her robes away from a hungry bloodshroom. "I can't be beaten like this!"

"Then I suggest you leave," Dapple said calmly, "before you find this sword in your black heart."

The Dark Faerie stared at the blade for a moment, considering. "The well is yours, Stalker," she said finally, standing to dust herself off. "If that's what you truly are. I would think again about pulling that weapon on a Faerie a second time. Someday your bluff will fail."

Dapple grinned. "If you say so."

"We will meet again," the Dark Faerie said, stretching out a hand. "Truce for now?"

The Lupess looked at the Faerie's hand curiously before taking it and shaking. Suddenly, she found her paw in an iron grip.

"This is so you will remember me," the Dark Faerie hissed. With a quick slashing movement, she cut cleanly across Dapple's face with her dagger. As Dapple fell to the ground in pain, the Faerie disappeared in the swirling mists.

Fire burned through Dapple's veins. Poison, she thought bitterly. Dapple dragged herself across the ground, her face twisted in pain. I have...to...get...back...

And then there was darkness.

"Miss Dapple! Oh, Dapple, please wake up!" a voice called.

Dapple opened one eye sleepily. Worried faces hovered over her. "Selphie?" she muttered. "I thought I told you..."

"I did tell father," she said, "but when we were getting everything into a cart, we found you laying on the ground."

Jacob smiled. "You're back inside the inn, now. We'll fix you up and have you on your feet in no time," he said. He frowned, then said, "I tried sewing shut that gash of yours but I think it'll scar no matter how good a job I do."

Dapple put a paw to her face and felt bandages over her left eye. "Thanks," she said weakly. She sat up suddenly, wincing. "My sword," she said. "Did I have it with me?"

"Yes, it's safe," Selphie said cheerily.

Dapple sank back into the bed with a sigh of relief and fell asleep, grateful for the rest.

The next morning, Jacob and Selphie had their few precious belongings packed on a small donkey cart.

Dapple stood beside the cart, smiling up at them. "I hope your luck runs a bit better in the village," she said.

"It will, it will," Jacob said. "As long as we have each other, we'll do fine."

Nodding, Dapple let out a sigh. "I wish you both the best and thank you for your kindness. Maybe we'll meet again."

"Be careful, Miss Dapple," Selphie said sadly. "Remember to eat the sandwiches I made you!"

Dapple barked a laugh. "I will. Good-bye, Jacob. Good-bye, Selphie." With a final nod, Dapple headed the opposite direction on the rough dirt road, a small red and white kerchief tied into a sack over her shoulder and a sword lashed to her leg.

Perhaps they would meet again, someday. Anything is possible as long as you can dream.

The End