EMILY ROSE MILLER
Short Story: A Brave and Selfless Deed
He was walking with his nose in his map and it was a moment before he heard the muffled cry. Nathan looked up, nearly dropping his map and everything else in panic at seeing a little dog stuck in a tree, and ran to pull him out.
“Hold on, boy—I’m coming!” Nathan called, grabbing a hairy ankle in each hand and heaving. A second later, the little old dog was on his feet and they were both panting. The dog was old and scruffy, sort of hairless with patches of fur, with an ugly face and a bad leg. Nathan saw no collar and figured the dog would go back where it came from.
“Wait a moment, my lad,” wheezed the old dog. “What’s your name?”
Nathan started violently and stared at it. “You can talk?”
“Of course I can. I’m a dog. Woof woof. Now answer the question.”
“I’m Wizard Apprentice Nathan.”
The dog looked shocked—as shocked as a dog can look beneath an assortment of bent whiskers—but then recovered. “Oh? And under whom are we studying?”
Nathan puffed out his chest. “The Great Wizard Hambledon,” he said, but added hastily, “I mean, I’m not actually his apprentice yet.”
“I see,” said the dog. “I thought Ol’ Hambledon only took on apprentices when he wanted.”
“That’s why I’m going to see him to ask him.”
“Isn’t his fortress hidden?”
“Yeah, by magic, but I saw it on the map so…”
The dog snorted. “One does not simply stumble upon a wizard’s fortress, especially if the wizard in question doesn’t want to be found.”
Nathan looked crestfallen, but then peered at the dog. “You seem to know an awful lot about it.”
“Indeed. I live there.”
“Hambledon has a dog?”
“Don’t be daft,” he barked. “Now, in gratitude for your help, I will show you where the Wizard Hambledon lives.”
Nathan counted the number of people at home who would laugh at him for using a talking dog as his guide to find a grouchy wizard’s hidden castle, and then multiplied that number by the volume of the resulting lecture from his mother. From there, he subtracted the shame of returning home absolutely empty handed, and decided it was worth the risk. He bowed formally. “Alright, noble dog, if you will condescend to show me the way, I would be honored to follow.”
The dog bristled at the honey, but gave a woof of content. “We’ll have to be quick though. I’m pretty sure the wizard is leaving on an international trip after sunset tonight.”
“Alright, but I still have to find a Brave and Selfless Deed to do along the way to prove my worth. If you see a Damsel in Distress, tell me.” There could at least be a Kite Stuck in a Tree, he thought, but had nonesuch luck as they walked along, more and more slowly as the dog’s little legs grew tired and stiff with cold. Nathan absently offered to carry him, despite the smell, and tucked the little dog into his jacket a minute later.
Keeping an eye out for a Deed, he didn’t notice his jacket growing heavier with every step, until they were at the crest of the hill and he was sweating with exhaustion.
“How much further?”
“Not long now. Woof.”
“Why do you say woof?”
“It seemed like the thing to do,” the dog said, perplexed.
“Most dogs actually bark—they don’t just say woof.”
“It’s not as easy as it looks, alright?” said the dog crossly. “Hurry up—before I change my mind.”
In the privacy of his own head, Nathan began to doubt that the dog knew where he was going at all. And then he remembered that it was a dog, and it was ridiculous that he was following it in the first place. But he had no other guide, so it was this or go back. And he couldn’t go back now.
“You know, if you’re looking for a real Brave Deed,” the dog began, conversationally as they walked. “You might try down in the Valley. They’re always getting into trouble around there.”
Nathan made a face. “I’m from the Valley—they’re more interested in the knights in shining armor than a wizard in glasses.”
“Ah well. What makes you want to be a wizard then? Why not just be a knight?”
“And miss all this?” Nathan asked, as they climbed the steep trail. “What about you? Why’d you become a dog?”
“Seemed like the thing to do. All my friends were doing it, woof.”
Nathan laughed. He heaved the dog up a boulder and scrambled up himself. They were on the precipice of a cliff, with the valley spreading below, sweeping through the mountains in great broad strokes of pine and city. The sun had dipped behind the furthest peak and the sky was a mess of gold and purple. In the shadow of the mountain, Nathan hadn’t noticed the fading light.
“We’re almost out of time!”
“That’s true,” the little dog began, taking another step up.
The rock must’ve come loose beneath his feet, but to Nathan, the dog fell as if by magic over the cliff’s edge. His heart leapt to his throat, and he lunged forward, hooking his foot around one of the roots sticking out of the ground as he threw himself over the edge after the dog. He just managed to grab the end of his back paw as he plummeted.
Time seemed to slow and the air became thick and heavy, as they hung there, over the edge of the cliff, by just the tip of Nathan’s shoe. Nathan watched in slow motion as the sunlight fled from the shadow creeping up the mountain.
“Kid,” wheezed the dog. “Just drop me and go see the wizard before it’s too late.”
“No,” Nathan breathed. “Never.”
“You’re going to miss your only chance!”
“No,” Nathan repeated. “I won’t let you die.”
“What about your life dream?” the dog argued, “Woof! You’ll never get another chance!”
“That’s too bad because I’m not going to let you die so I can get a job!” Nathan yelled.
As he said it, the sun sank and night began.
All the blood had gone to Nathan’s head and he thought he was losing his mind: upside down, tongue lolling manically, paws stuck out at weird angles, the dog lifted his head and smiled. Nathan summoned his fleeing core muscles and reached for the only available help: a dead tree branch. One hand holding shakily to the tree and a foot hooked on a tree root, he began to swing the dog back and forth, gaining momentum.
“Don’t even think about it,” growled the dog.
Ignoring him, Nathan catapulted him up and back onto the cliff. He heard a squeal when he landed and hoped none of his old bones broke. Then he forced himself to do a full crunch and grabbed onto another low hanging branch to pull himself up. It was a painstaking process and when he finally clambered back onto land, he sprawled out in desperate relief as all the adrenaline that had so quickly flooded his system evaporated.
He was back to normal.
“Thanks very much,” said the dog.
Nathan sighed. “Don’t mention it.”
“You saved my life. I should think that counts as a Brave and Selfless Deed.”
From his place flat on the ground with his face against the cold stone, Nathan reconsidered. “I mean. I guess you could mention it. A little.”
The dog chuckled and Nathan frowned at the sound. He raised his eyes and saw before him, not the sticky gray paws with which he’d become so familiar, but human feet. He lifted his eyes higher and saw a man dressed in jeans and t-shirt.
Nathan scrambled up in terror and stuttered, “You’re—you—you’re—”
“Not a dog? Well spotted,” said the Wizard Hambledon. “Although, if you really had no idea, perhaps you aren’t qualified to study under me after all.”
“I—no, uh, that is…I knew you weren’t a dog, but I didn’t realize…”
“I’m only joking.”
“I thought you were leaving on an international trip?”
“Oh, um,” the wizard mumbled uncomfortably. “Yes. But I suppose I made it sound a tiny bit more urgent than it is…I am a wizard after all. I can just teleport there and back.”
Nathan sighed. “So, not my last chance then?”
“Ah, no.”
“But, sir,” Nathan said. “I haven’t done a Brave Deed—not really.”
“Man, if you’re this thick, I’m not sure I can help you,” said Hambledon soberly. “Did you hit your head when you fell? What do you think you’ve been doing all afternoon? You passed the test. Why don’t we put it into the Helping an Old Man Across the Street category?”
Nathan smiled. “How about Assisting the Lame?”
The wizard laughed.