Wolf Hollow: an ordinary town snuggled between, well, some not so ordinary geography.
There's a lake to the south. No one's sure how deep it is but they're sure it never ripples. They're so sure, it's written in the guidebooks, along with a warning not to throw pebbles in. Resist temptation; sit on your hands if you have to ... just don't. The other popular warning concerns Hawking Wood, curving round the town to the northeast and fading up the slopes of tri-peaked Triskellion Tor. Forget about picnicking in those woods, or you're likely to forget a whole lot more, like how to breathe.
Then again, Wolf Hollow is a quiet town, and tall-tale telling helps pass the time. But as a mode of entertainment on a Saturday night when the boss is out keeping the peace, the local myths and legends fall way short of basking before the wide-screen TV, wearing out Kelly's Bring It On DVD.
Kelly hefts the bottle, judging if there's enough wine left to wash down the last of the pizza. Eyes on the screen, he gropes for the wineglass and brings it into line with the lip of the bottle and pours, not spilling a drop.
Until something very large and very close, roars. Then Kelly drops the whole damn glass.
On the couch Josh springs upright like one of those cartoon cats hit by electricity, thumb jabbing the remote. The movie freezes mid car-wash scene.
Kelly stares at the puddle of wine rapidly soaking into the pale fibres of the rug. "Bugger. There's a stain that's not going to come out. Gonna have to replace it and that'll be the third for this year."
"It's only the seventh of February." Josh swallows. Reluctantly, he peers over the edge of the couch at the floor. Though it had seemed to come from everywhere at once, there was a real below quality to the noise which set his flight instinct quivering. Something nasty had moved out of the woodshed and into the basement.
"Yep. All hail Aquarius." Kelly bolts to his feet and out of the room.
Josh's brain catches up to his body in the domed foyer en route to the heavy front door. Both need a second to process as Kelly lunges for the stairs.
The stairs up.
This time Josh feels the bellow before he hears it, the vibrations rolling from his feet to his crown, shocking every single hair on his body straight, and that is one weird sensation. Slapping his hands down his arms, Josh realizes there's another sound cutting through the fading snarl with prismatic sweetness. It's familiar, a way down south sound, a sound straight out of his memory. He breaks into a sweat remembering the humidity, the incense wraiths stinging his eyes and the taste of rain heavy on his tongue, with the back woods rattle of oracle bones thinning the veil between this world and the next.
Josh glances around. No bones but there's a chandelier, layers of glass shards weaving into a thing of beauty and light and, above all else, sharpness.
)
Josh has a talent for running away and it's taken him to Wolf Hollow. Now he has the opportunity to run from a red-headed almost-immortal with a shoe fetish, unicorns, the nocturnal lifestyle, and his own past. A darkly comic serial you can sing along with. You know how it is. You're home, you've got pizza, red wine and a movie. Just as you're getting to the good bit, there's a noise. Not the kind of noise you can ignore ...
