Authors: Shauna Granger
One
last fire burned in the center of the encampment, and gathered around it were
two dozen beings. They seemed to be watching something, cheering and laughing
at intervals, reminding me of people watching a game on television. I crept
forward, trying to peer between bodies to see what they saw. An overlarge
cauldron roasted on the fire, and everyone seemed to be staring into it,
watching the contents.
“Um,
excuse me,” I said to a faerie that looked like a satyr. “What’s going on?”
“The
Hunt,” he replied, never taking his eyes from the pot.
“The
Hunt?” I repeated, but he didn’t answer me again, so I lifted up on my toes to
look over the shoulders of those around the cauldron. Inside was a clear
concoction, and between the wisps of steam, I saw something moving on the
surface of liquid. It took my eyes a minute to adjust, but then I could see a
scene on the surface. A man ran through a small village, sweat streaming down a
face twisted in fear. He lost his hat when he glanced over his shoulder to
check behind him. Whatever he saw made him scream and stumble to the ground.
The
crowd around the cauldron cheered again; some laughed. Then I heard the hooves clattering
down the street. I watched as the hunters on horseback and the giant dogs ran
the man down. His screams were lost in the cheers of the crowd around me and
the whinnying of horses and braying of dogs. The hunting party didn’t stop as I
had expected them to. They just raced on, and when they were out of the scene
in the cauldron, the dark street was empty, just lonely buildings and a
deserted cobblestone street. The Hunt had caught the man.
The
crowd began to disperse quickly, each returning to their place of rest. A tiny
woman, wizened and bent with a wide flat face, touched the surface of the water
with her frail fingers, making it shimmer and shake until the water was clear. That
was it, a window into my world, my chance to see my friends. I felt hope
blossom inside of me for the first time since leaving Anthony’s apartment. I
blinked back tears as I watched the old woman. She carefully kept her large, bulbous
eyes from me. I wasn’t sure if she was afraid of me or if she was just trying
to ignore me.
“Are
you a seer?” I broke the silence. She hesitated, her hand in midair as she
reached for something with which to tend the coals of her fire. I thought she was
going to answer me, but after a moment, she snatched up the stick she had been
reaching for and started stirring the coals around the caldron. She walked in a
circle around the fire until she was close to me. She stopped then and went
back the way she came.
My
bubble of hope burst, and I was just about to give up and walk away when she
said, “Thems no visions.” She stabbed the coals aggressively, making clouds of
bright orange embers float in the air. “Visions are for the future; that
weren’t no future.”
“What
do you mean? That was happening right now?” I asked. She sniffed loudly and
made a noncommittal noise that I took for a “yes.” The old woman dropped her
stick and picked up a handful of herbs from a bundle on the ground and cast
them into the flames. The herbs made the smoke turn blue and scented the air
with something sharp and unfamiliar. I wrinkled my nose and tried not to
sneeze.
“If
you’re not a seer, then are you a water elemental?” I asked. Again she didn’t
answer me, just continued to tend to her fire. When she didn’t offer any
response, I decided not to press her, afraid I’d ruin any chance of seeing my
friends. I sat and tried to enjoy the fire’s warmth. She shot me an angry look,
holding my gaze for a few minutes before she sniffed again and walked off. I
was a little surprised when she returned a few moments later, a fish skewered
on a stick in her hand. She sat on the far side of the cauldron so looking at
her was awkward and began roasting the fish over the fire. For one fleeting
moment, I thought about Steven roasting a hot dog over a campfire while we sat
on the beach, Jodi and I eating melted marshmallows. A knot formed in my chest,
making it hard to breathe.
“Maybe
a water sprite?” I asked suddenly, trying to get my mind off those beautiful
and painful memories. She
humphed
at
me and sniffed again, and I guessed that I had it right. I hadn’t ever met a
water sprite before, and to be honest, I expected something prettier and
younger. Once the scales of the fish were charred, she pulled it from the fire.
I knew it hadn’t been cooking long enough to roast the flesh inside.
She
opened her mouth to show pointy little white teeth before she tore into her
dinner. The fish made a squelching noise, and I couldn’t help but to lean over
and look. I was right; the fish was still raw, just blackened on the outside. I
grimaced and leaned back to put the caldron between us.
“I
don’t think I’ve ever met a water sprite before,” I said, mostly to cover the
noise of her chewing and rending the fish. “I’ve met undines and nymphs;
they’re kinda like intense mermaids, though.” I laughed uncomfortably. “I’m
sure you know that.”
She
didn’t respond, only started to suck on the lethal little bones between bites.
“So
can you call up the visions in the water because you’re a sprite or because it
was of another Hunt?” I asked. “Since you’re part of this Hunt?”
Again
she was quiet save for the chewing. I sighed, starting to lose steam. I inched
a little closer to the fire to warm my hands.
“I
was just hoping you could tell me because if you can call up any visions, maybe
you could show me my friends or my family?” I kept talking even though I was
sure she wasn’t listening. Talking was better than the quiet punctuated with
her gross chewing. “I’m trying to figure out a way to let them know they can
still reach out to me. Gwyn told me I could get out of here if I did it before
I became part of the Slaugh. But he didn’t tell me how long or soon that might
be.”
“Everyone
becomes part of the Slaugh,” she finally said, startling me with her closeness.
She had finished her fish, discarded the bones somewhere, and walked around the
caldron to sneak up on me.
“Ugh!”
I said, shaking out my hands as if I could shake off my fear.
“Stupid
human.” She shook her tiny head, making her stringy white hair waft back and
forth.
“Maybe,”
I said as she started to walk away. “Maybe I am a stupid human, but Gwyn said
there were ways for me to leave, and I’m damn well going to try.”
“Meh,”
she said, waving a hand as if to shoo me away. I got to my feet and followed
her.
“Look,
I’m not asking for a lot here. If you could show me my friends –”
“What
for?” she sneered at me, squinting one eye. “You can’t reach thems through the
water. Why should I be showing you nothing?”
“I
don’t…” Words failed me. I guess I had been hoping I could reach out to them
through the water once the window was open. But it wasn’t a window; it would be
like seeing them from the other side of the mirror. Much help that would be.
“Meh,
stupid girl,” she said again, shaking her head before she walked off and left
me alone again. Maybe she was right; maybe I was a stupid girl. Gwyn said I
could leave if I could find the edge of the Outlands. Maybe that was the best
thing I could do. I certainly couldn’t reach out to Steven and Jodi to tell
them to summon me; I could only hope they would think of it on their own. I
thought about Steven asking Jodi to help him bring me back and how the thought
had scared her. I would’ve been scared too; that was dark magic, blood magic,
nothing we ever dealt in. And besides, Jodi was right. I wouldn’t have come
back. No one ever survived a resurrection with a sound mind. I shuddered to
think what I would’ve become if Steven had tried.
But
they could summon my spirit. I was cognizant, not some wandering, tortured ghost,
wailing over my mistakes and losses in life. If they summoned me, we could talk.
I could help them think of a plan, or at the very least I could tell them to
find Iris and cash in her favor. But this was all moot. I couldn’t reach them,
so dwelling on those thoughts right now was pointless. Right now I had to think
of what I could do, and that was to find the edge of the Outlands. I had walked
for miles in that forest without an end in sight; it wasn’t until I was with the
Hunt that it had changed at all. Maybe I would walk for years and never find
the end of this place. I had to figure out how to tap into the magic in this
place.
I
would have to get Gwyn to help me even though he seemed completely disinclined
to do so.
“But
he did tell me how to get out of here,” I mumbled to myself, glancing in the
direction of the horses. “Sort of.” Really he only told me what would get me
out of here, not how to make those things happen. “Stupid faerie tricks!” Even
in death they could still trick me, damn it! All my years on Earth and I hadn’t
learned a damn thing.
I
yawned then, and my eyes felt swollen as I stared into the fire. The exhaustion
was finally getting to me. Reluctant to give up the warmth of the fire as I
was, I didn’t trust anyone there enough to let myself sleep completely out in
the open. I headed into the shadows of the hills just beyond the encampment
until I found a small trench with overgrown grass to bed down in. With
something to my back and the ability to blend into the ground, I felt just a
little safer, at least safe enough to fall asleep. My last thoughts were of
Gwyn and how I was going to play his little game to help me get out of there.
A
cacophony of noises woke me a few hours later, or at least I assumed it was a
few hours later. The moon still had not moved in the sky, and there was still
no sun in sight. I sat up in my little trench, feeling the prickling creases on
my cheek from the grass, and looked around. They were breaking camp and
preparing to leave. All of the campfires were extinguished, the tents and crude
structures were broken down, and horses and hounds were being saddled.
I
hurried to my feet, slipping on the grass once or twice in my rush, and ran
into the middle of the milling crowd. I knew none of them were disposed to helping
me, but staying with the group gave me a little bit of safety. They had weapons
and numbers. If any of the monstrous creatures came back, I wouldn’t have to
fend them off all on my own, and they had given me food even though I hadn’t
helped with the hunt. I had no idea how the magic of this place worked; they
had found me in the forest and brought me to the hills, but I had no idea how.
I couldn’t travel this place alone yet.
“Excuse
me,” I said, trying to stop a hobgoblin, but he just turned away, jumped on the
back of one of the massive white hounds, and took off.
“Can
you tell me what’s going on?” I asked a little dwarf man, but he pretended not
to hear me as well. “Oh, come on!” I stomped my foot as I yelled, but in the
commotion, my noises were lost. I heard the echoing bark of a familiar dog and
turned to see Balor gamboling around, snapping happily at the hooves of the
milling horses.
I
ran to him before I could think about it, and when he saw me coming, his jaw
opened in a goofy dog grin and he bounded toward me. He met me with a crash,
his giant paws striking me on the shoulders and knocking me back. The breath
was pushed out of me when we landed. For a moment, I was terrified I had made a
terrible mistake, but then Balor licked my face from chin to forehead, his
whip-like tail wagging madly behind him.
“Thanks,”
I said sarcastically. I shoved him off of me before wiping my face with my
sleeve.
“Balor!”
Gwyn’s booming voice rang out, making Balor’s head swing toward it
automatically. “Balor, to me, ye damn dog!” Balor looked over his shoulder toward
me and whined. At least I had one friend there.
“It’s
okay, boy,” I said, patting his back that was as high as my waist. “Take me to
Gwyn.” His red ears perked up before he turned and pranced happily toward Gwyn,
setting a pace I could manage to keep up with.
“Balor!”
Gwyn bellowed again. Balor whined again, wanting to dash away, but wanting just
as much to stay with me and dodge through the crowd slowing me down. I petted
him again, thanking him for not abandoning me, but as soon as the crowd parted and
we could both see Gwyn clearly, he rushed off.
Gwyn
was adjusting his saddle, checking his saddlebags, and getting ready to depart
when Balor rushed to his side. The hound circled him, jumping and snapping at
his horse, but Gwyn did not look pleased.
“Finally,
blasted hound,” Gwyn cursed and reared back his hand, ready to let it fly at
the dog.
I
rushed forward with my own hand raised to stop him. “Hey, it’s not his fault!”
Balor hunched down around himself, his tail tucked between his legs and his red
ears flattened against his head. When I got close, Balor turned and scuttled
behind me.
“Still
here, are we?” Gwyn said in an unfriendly voice, dropping his hand.
“Yes,
still here, and there’s no need to hit Balor,” I said, feeling the heat of
anger rush to my face.
“He
is to come when he is called,” Gwyn replied, tugging at the belt of his saddle
roughly.