A Conspiracy in Stone, Part III

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The beast awakened.

He blinked slowly, reluctant to stir from the warm comfort of his hidey hole. Why was he here?

He snarled, remembering.

She'd lured him here with promises, changed him…fled while he was still stunned and confused. It was the only reason she still lived. More than a dozen fighting men had not fared so well.

He sneered and raked the floor with powerful claws, bounding up and over a pile of ancient stone blocks. These deadly metallic hooks weren't his, but he'd discovered soon enough how to use them. He unfurled long leathery wings and roared at the memory of his victory, pleased at the sound it made through the cellars. He paced forward, his iron-tipped tail swinging deftly. Water pooled in some of the chambers down here. The air was musty and cold enough to see his breath. Just as well. The chill cleared his thoughts.

He’d seen the woman before, with his uncle. That very man had polymorphed him long ago, a strange and exotic birthday surprise for an estranged and deserted boy. He would never forget it, could never forget. That transformation was why he kept his head now. That and the physical strength he bore, the sense of balance that only four legs, a tail, and wings could give. He stretched the bat-like appendages, rippling muscles along his shoulders and back. It was wonderful.

Most victims of this kind of sorcery forgot who they were, or worse, remembered and went mad at the thought, if their hearts survived the change at all. Quite a few died of high blood, if his uncle’s tales were to be believed. He focused his will to calm down, to remember his name…

“Umberto.”

He startled back at the timbre of his own voice. It was resounding, yet rasping and grim, a sound from out of nightmares.

Another thought struck Umberto. He padded quickly over to a pool reflecting the grey dawn from outside, slinking up slowly once he reached the edge. He peered down at a black-eyed visage matching the voice; only he would recognize himself in this gruesome form.

Umberto slapped the pool hard with a giant paw and shrunk backward, roaring in anger. He spun and leapt onto a decorated pillar, raking and pummeling the façade apart with the unbridled strength of his new body. Marble chipped and shattered until the column cracked to the capital. A chunk fell onto Umberto’s snout. He reeled back with a snarl, about to assault the column again but for an out of place sight; a mechanism hidden beneath the broken façade.

Umberto examined the device briefly before pressing a pressure plate with an extended claw. Grating stone sounded from behind him – a hidden door sliding open. He turned to face a faint golden glow emerging from the portal, growing until he squinted. He walked into the light.

Umberto’s roaring laugh boomed from the little room, echoing across the cellars.