Free The War of Odds by Linell Jeppsen

faeries weren’t lying about bending time!”
     
    A few minutes later, the three teenagers and one dog made their way down the road. They were snowed on, blown around and drenched by rain. It felt as if the elements were fighting their progress but the kids gritted their teeth and finally found themselves at the place where Sara had left her pack.
    She knew they were early for the rendezvous, but she hoped someone was watching out for them. Then she wondered if she had messed up by bringing two companions, instead of one, and no one had ever said that it was okay to bring a dog. Suddenly, Sara knew that this was never going to work and she almost suggested that they all just proceed to her house, which was only about a half mile away.
    She opened her mouth to yell her idea over the howling wind and saw that hateful black Cadillac coming up the road fast. Her stomach twisted and she shouted, “Get down! Get down off the road and into those trees, you guys! Hurry!”
    Nate looked over her head, saw the car Sara had described earlier, and let out a shout. He took both girls arms in his hands and propelled all three of them off the wood and deeper into the trees. Mike, the dog, faced the approaching vehicle and a snarl lifted his lips. The hackles on his back rose in fury and he lowered his head as the car screeched to a halt on the road.
    Nate tried to call his dog off. “Mike! Come on buddy… COME!” His words were lost to the banshee wail of the wind, however, and Mike the dog crept closer to the idling vehicle. Then a window slid down and a pale hand extended some sort of metal rod toward the animal. The teenagers watched in shock as the dog jerked hard, as if it had just been kicked. Then it lifted his head and howled in agony before falling to the asphalt.
    Nate gasped as he saw his beloved pet’s eyes roll up in its head and its tongue roll out of its mouth. Mike the dog was dead. Nate screamed in anger, and denial, “No!” and started to run up on the road, but the girls held him back.
    “Nate,” Sara cried, “don’t do it! I am so… so sorry about Mike, but those people will kill you next, I know it!”
    Nate stopped and hung his head in grief, while Sara and Chloe tried to lead him backwards into the trees. Then, they heard a voice, “Get in here, NOW!”
    It was Muriel, the wood nymph, and about thirty sprites, dressed in full armor and carrying every weapon conceivable; long wooden swords, bows and arrows, wooden balls and knives.
    Nate was weeping still, but he let himself be lead into the land of faery without complaint. They stopped long enough to watch as Muriel pointed her stick at the car. For a moment, there was an almost overwhelming sensation of static electricity in the air, and then a red bolt of lightning shot out of the stick and enveloped the Cadillac.
    The red light etched its way over the car and the teens could hear the sound of screams from where they stood, fifty feet away. One of the witches opened the car door and fell out onto the pavement writhing in anguish as the red light embraced her and turned her green aura to ash.
    “It’s done, let’s go,” Muriel snarled.
     
    The frightened teenagers followed the nymph in to forest. They were in the strange land of the fae now and Nate wiped his eyes, trying to observe his surroundings as they followed the magical creatures deep into the woods. His heart was broken, but the death of his dog only made him more determined to follow this evil to its source and vanquish it forever. He had believed Sara (sort of) when she told her outlandish story, but now it was personal.
      He saw the evil oozing out of the black car, and saw what that woman’s rod did to his dog. He watched the little sprites and tried not to look too closely at the nymph, whose body was clearly visible through her diaphanous robes. Looking to the side, Nate saw an army of cats, all of them wearing metal armor, and little cone-shaped helmets on their heads.
    He held