Last time, in chapter three, we learned that Ian McNee has been after our girl for years now, seeking the power Emil so desperately wishes to conceal. Doctor Strange proposed a somewhat magic-less plan to keep Emil's energy hidden by draining some of it and dispersing on his own, so that she can at least go get milk without being found by her psychedelic foe. So what's next? Read on and find out!
The hall was dark and quiet. A cool breeze rustled my hair and my light shirt. It was freezing, and my feet were bare. Glass shards littered the floor, but I didn't seem to step on any as I stepped forward. “Stephen?” I called.
I walked towards an open doorway, the source of the cold wind and of a silvery moonlight that coated everything it touched, including me. “Stephen?”
Strange stood at the open doorway, his hand on the door, his other at his side. Both hands trembled. “Stephen. . . talk to me.”
He turned to look at me, but I didn't see the Stephen Strange I recognized. His icy green eyes were cold and cruel, the set of his jaw and neck arrogant, his expression disinterested and even, to a point, heartless.
“Don't call me Stephen.”
“Doctor Strange then.”
“You will call me master, because that is what I am. I am your master and you are my apprentice.”
“Master then!” I shouted in frustration. “Why are you so damn irritating. . . what happened in here?”
“Her.”
“Her?” I asked.
But then I saw it – a photograph, a woman with wispy white hair and elegant eyes. This wasn't a real dream – this was Stephen's heart. And looking around at the destruction left in the wake of the longest and possibly most unstable relationship he'd ever had, I felt as small and hopeless an ally he could ever have.
I picked the photo up, looked at it, then set it down and walked over to him, touching his arm. He stared at me with eyes half-closed, and I touched the side of his face. “You'll survive. You always have. You always will.”
I opened my eyes as I listened to the sound of loud growling. Sitting straight up, I jumped out of bed and opened the door, then darted downstairs to see Strange and Wong both trying to wrangle what literally looked like a gigantic, fluffy tiger.
It snarled, then let out a loud, rumbling roar that even shook my innards and made my heart quiver. My bones quaked, and my mouth ran dry.
Strange glanced up at me, then shouted, “stay where you are, Emil! Don't move!”
No arguments from me.
The tiger was massive, a tensed coil of muscle and long fur, a mean whip of a tail and a broad, strong head. Instead of being orange, it was a dazzlingly pure white, with icy blue eyes. And it's fangs were bared straight at Strange.
Strange, though cautious, didn't seem too afraid. That was, until the tiger lunged.
I screamed as it started to move forward, and it whipped it's head around to look at me. Now Strange looked afraid, and Wong was caught between protecting me and protecting Stephen. Muscles coiled and released as it turned, claws scratching the wood floors as the beast seemed to fly at me.
I jumped over the banister and hit the floor, then started running towards Strange and Wong, but I was too late – the tiger pinned me down on the floor and held it's teeth mere millimeters away from my face.
It's warm breath fogged my vision, but why wouldn't she strike? Seriously! End it!
But then she did something I really hadn't expected.
She plopped all of her 700 pounds onto me, lying down and . . . cuddling?
“Oh God!” I gasped, as Strange and Wong rushed to push her off of me. She crushed my ribs, and I felt like it would only take one wrong move for her to smash my rib cage. Finally, with a low grumble, she rolled off of my torso, but not off of me. Her fat head pinned my arm to the floor, and she closed her eyes, rather pleased with herself.
Strange crouched next to me and her and wiped the sweat off of his forehead. “We're going to get you out of this, Emil, and then we'll get rid of this --”
“Actually,” I began, as my heart started to calm down. “This. . . really isn't that bad.”
“Emil, there's a giant Siberian tiger on your arm! She could very easily kill you!”
“SO why hasn't she yet?” I demanded. I looked at the tiger, and she stared at me. “She's, uh, kinda cute, actually.”
Her breath smelled just like milk and not meat, like I would have expected. “I dunno, Sir, I really don't think she's. . . y'know, in the mood to kill me.”
I pushed on her chest, and with another low grumble, she sat up, as did I, backing away into Strange's grip. The Tigress sat up regally, her massive square head held high. “Well. . . now what?” I asked.
“We'll have to figure out how to get her out of my house!” hissed Strange. “I've never had a talent with the creatures of the Earthly plane.”
Shocker.
I outstretched my hand, but the Doctor reached out and stopped me. “What do you think you're doing!?” he hissed.
“Just trust me, sir, I think. . . I think she's. . . less likely to kill us than any other tigers. . .”
Strange didn't let go of my hand, but pulled me to stand and started to back away. The tigress stood and followed, looking me in the eyes. I met her stare and glared back, and she stayed where she was. “Well okay,” I said, pulling away from Strange. “See?” I said, walking towards her, cautiously, but not as afraid.
My hand wandered over the soft fur on her head, and she eased herself into my leg, letting me pet her and staring at Strange. “You don't get to keep her.”
“I think I'll name her Karenin.”
“”First of all, you will name her nothing, since you aren't keeping her in this house. Second of all, if she's a girl then she should be named Karenina,” said Strange, as he walked itno the room holding a silver chain. He paused before approaching her, then sighed and walked up, pulling the chain around her neck.
“What is – that can kill her, can't it?” I asked grimly.
“She is a tiger, not a toy,” he said calmly as he backed away. “She will kill you if she gets the chance – or if she gets hungry.”
I rolled my eyes the looked at the warm fire in the fireplace. “Sir, you really shouldn't be so paranoid.”
“Paranoid! I am not paranoid, there is a tiger in my house!”
“You've battled Dormammu, ruler of the dark realm --”
“Dimension --”
“Moving on! Why are you scared of a little kitty?” I asked, patting her side.
“I knew when all those things were trying to kill me. A tiger is not a pet.”
Karenin laid down on the floor, as if to show Strange that she wasn't totally dangerous. I smiled up at him smugly, with a raised eyebrow, and he sighed. “We can discuss this later. Right now, I'm starving,” he complained.
Before he started down to the kitchen, I called, “wait, Sir . . .” I called as I stood up. I hesitated as he turned. “What?” he snapped.
“Oh. . . nothing.”
I followed Strange down to the kitchen, where I noticed Wong had taken two packs of raw, red meat out of the freezer and set them in the sink. I looked at him, and he winked. Grinning, I sat down and grabbed a box of a sugary cereal and poured it into a bowl. While adding milk,I looked up and said, “So, Sir, what's the plan today?”
I watched as Strange poured a bowl of the same cereal. I would have pinned him as an all-bran or a granola man, but to each their own, I suppose. “We're all going out,” he said. “Together, this time. I don't trust you not to get lost in the Nexus, Emil, and IT'll be good for you to get out and not get attacked.”
“How do you know I won't get attacked?”
“Wong and I will be with you.”
“How do you know Wong and you won't get attacked?”
“I don't know if Wong and I won't be attacked, but the point is that you won't. Now stop arguing with me.”
“No.”
Strange dropped his spoon and stared at me. I didn't look at him back. “What did you say?”
“I said no. I'm not arguingwith you so why should I stop? You're the one that's arguing.”
“I'm not arguing, stop being irritating.”
I muttered something, and he kept staring. “You speak French?”
“I told you that, didn't I?” I asked.
He thought about it for a minute. “I suppose you did.”
“Do you?”
“No, I never had the time for learning another language.”
“My grandmother spoke it to me all the time.”
“Is she --”
“In Aspen, skiing.”
Wong looked up. “Your grandmother is in Aspen?”
“Yep.”
Doctor Strange turned into a little pawnshop, and I followed after Wong. Though it was the middle of fall, it didn't seem to matter to the residents of Chinatown, who gathered in the streets and in open air stores.
“Good morning Doctor!” greeted the woman behind the counter. The store was filled to the roof with all sorts of. . . everything, really. There were tchotchkes, novelty toys from when Doctor Strange still played with toys, weird looking vases, jewelry glittering from glass cases, old school pieces, antiques, and books from the Victorian era. The smell of incense wafted throughout the room, and little tea candies sat in a bowl on the counter.
“Good morning Mrs. Lao,” the Doctor greeted her back. He wore a genial smile, and looked casual and even friendly. .
“Are you here to buy or sell?”
“Actually I'm here to pick up an item I called about earlier?”
“Aah, yes, yes, I have that for you. I'll be right back.”
She ducked away to a back room, and I looked into an old fishtank to see a few panicked goldfish and an eel, plus one very, very big fish, at least a foot long. The fish seemed to stare at me, then rammed right into the glass wall, making a loud clunk!
“Aah!” I shrieked. “What the hell!?”
“Don't stare at the fish, Emil,” warned the doctor.
“And this is something you couldn't have warned me of a minute ago?” I asked.
“No. ah, here it is!” said the Doctor as Mrs. Lao brought out a small wooden box. I looked at it as the Doctor took it from her, then tapped on the lid one, two, three times with long gloved fingers. “Thank you, Mrs. Lao. Will there be a charge?”
He paid her what she asked for, then just before we left, she noticed me. “Oh! A new apprentice?”
“Yes, in fact. Emil, she recently came to me for instruction.”
“You look like the sort of girl who would wear pretty things in her hair. I have some old Japanese kanzashi that would look lovely on you!”
“Wonderful, Wong, why don't you go ahead and help Emil out, hmm?”
I wondered why he was being so nice and personable, since it wasn't really his shtick, until I looked out the window. Turning back to the counter quickly as Mrs. Lao pulled out a silk box, I looked to Wong.
McNee was standing outside, waiting.
Holy cow! Kanzashi!? McNee!? Wong!? What's next, will Strange deflect the young enemy without a fight, or are things about to get magical!?
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