Authors: Shauna Granger
She drew in
another steadying breath and said, “I call to the East, by the strength of
intellect and Air, to guide me this day.”
“Whoa, Jodi,” I
whispered into the glass. “You’re gonna try casting?”
“Creatures of
Air, hear my call.” Her voice rose with every word, becoming stronger, her face
more determined. “I call to the East, by the strength of intellect and Air, to
guide me this day. Creatures of Air, hear my call!”
She held her
hands up in front of her, lifting them until they were above her head, palms up
to the sky. She said the invocation once more, just as I expected her to,
before nearly screaming, “By the power of three times three, answer me!”
Nothing moved
around her, not even a breeze to stir the foliage. She remained in that
position until her arms shook with exhaustion. Her fingers drained of color as
the blood rushed away. My lungs burned from holding my breath, praying
something, anything would respond to her desperate call.
Jodi opened her
eyes when the chirp of a bird, almost too faint to hear, sounded off to her
right. After a few moments, three tiny sparrows darted into the clearing, two
flitting close enough to land on her outstretched hands. Something between a
laugh and a sob burst from her, scaring the third, as yet unsettled bird. He darted
away into the shadows of the trees he’d come from.
Her hands still
trembling, Jodi slowly lowered her hands until they rested in her lap. The two
sparrows chirped in protest, but when she stopped moving, they fluttered their
wings and resettled their feathers, never leaving her hands. Tears rolled down
her face, strangely clear due to her unusual lack of mascara. I blinked
rapidly, making the tears that stung my eyes fall as well.
“It’s not all
gone then, is it, Shay?” Jodi asked, lifting her face up to the sky as if she
could see me looking down on her.
“No,” I answered
even though she couldn’t hear me, “it’s not all lost.”
Jodi laughed
with a strained smile as she looked down at the tiny birds. She was probably
hoping some faeries would answer her call, but these two precious birds were a
huge relief, for the both of us.
I closed my eyes
again, and when I opened them, the glass was black and the image of Jodi was
gone. I glanced around and saw our two horses were finally still by the river,
their heads hanging low and their large black eyes closed. Jacob still had his
back to me, but his back rose and fell slowly as he slept. Balor dozed quietly
next to me, waiting for me to lie back down. I wrapped the looking glass back
up and tucked it between me and Balor before I laid down, finally feeling the
fingers of sleep pulling at me. A knot in my shoulder was suddenly looser, and
I was able to fall asleep.
***
The sounds of
the horses screaming woke me. Balor jumped to his feet, making me fall back and
nearly hit my head on the ground. Jacob yelled something, but the rumble of the
earth and the cat monsters’ screaming as they tore down the river toward us
swallowed his words.
They looked just
like the pack that had treed me so many nights ago, but the river matted their
white fur, turning it a dingy grey. Their black lips were pulled back over
their razor teeth in wild sneers. Fearghus and the other horse reared up, their
hooves peddling in the air as they screamed. Balor had squared off in their
path, growling and snapping his jaws, just waiting for them.
“Shayna!”
Jacob’s scream was so close to my face that it jarred me from my frozen state,
and I scrambled to my feet, barely remembering to snatch up the looking glass
as I ran for Fearghus. Catching his reins took me three tries, but I pulled his
head down, making him put his hooves on the ground.
“Fearghus,
stop!” I yelled, trying to get my foot in the stirrup, gripping the saddle hard
enough to make my fingers ache as I fought the terrified horse.
“Shayna, hurry!”
Jacob yelled from atop his mount. Unable to stop myself, I glanced over my
shoulder and saw the pack of grey and white fur boiling over itself, the water
splashing wildly in every direction. One broke away from the pack in a mad
dash, barreling right for Balor. I screamed for him to come, feeling a stitch
forming in my chest. I watched the creature launch itself at him, knife-like
claws extended.
Balor waited
until the cat was airborne before he launched himself off the ground, his wide
jaws open. Balor hurled himself into the cat’s soft underbelly, his teeth sinking
into the wet fur, breaking the skin so that bright red blood burst from between
his teeth. The cat monster howled in anger and pain, bringing his claws to
clutch at Balor as they tumbled to the ground. When they stopped, Balor was on
top, and with one forceful wrench of his head, he ripped the monster’s belly
open in a shower of red and darker colors of things I didn’t want to think
about.
My stomach
roiled and threatened to lose what little food I had before I turned my face
away, refusing to watch anymore. With Jacob screaming for me and the cat
monsters yowling their anger, I swung my leg up, settled into the saddle, and
pulled forcefully on the reins. I wrenched Fearghus’s head around and put my
heels to him, urging him forward. Fearghus took off like a shot, galloping away
with Jacob and his horse following.
“Balor!” I
screamed over my shoulder. “To me! Balor!” I heard him bark twice, and in a few
more strides, the white streak of his body barreled by me. A sob of relief
escaped me. I leaned over Fearghus’s neck, curling my fingers into his mane.
“Faster,
Fearghus, faster,” I urged and felt the almost imperceptible change. The wind
whipped wildly around us as he increased his speed. Carefully, and without
raising my body, I looked behind me. We were putting distance between us and
the pack of cat monsters, to my great relief. I only wished some of those
carnivorous birds would come to my rescue again. Their growls and yowls faded.
Only when my fingers ached from holding on to Fearghus did I realize how far we
had run.
After a while, I
sat up and said, “Easy.” I untangled my fingers from his mane, taking up the reins
again. “Easy, Fearghus.” Fearghus took some yards to slow his gallop to a trot
and then finally a gentle walk. I called to Jacob as Balor doubled back to
circle around Fearghus’s legs.
“Shayna, what
are ye doin’?” Jacob asked, his accent becoming thicker with the speed of his
heart rate.
“They aren’t
behind us anymore. I don’t want to run Fearghus until he collapses.” I patted
Fearghus’s neck, feeling the lather on his coat.
“They can still
be after us though,” Jacob pressed. His terror made his horse prance in
circles, unable to stand still.
“Yes, I know,” I
agreed. “But let’s just change course or something; I don’t want to kill
Fearghus or make him break a leg in our rush.”
“If only we knew
how to move to another area in this godforsaken place!” Jacob yelled into the
sky, blood rushing to his cheeks. I nodded, not needing to say anything. It
occurred to me I hadn’t run into these cat monsters when I was in the valley,
only when in wooded areas. If only we could figure out how to shift planes like
Gwyn!
“There would
probably be monsters everywhere else anyway,” I grumbled.
“We didn’t see
monsters in the valley,” Jacob said, echoing my thoughts. His horse had finally
settled, standing so his head was next to Fearghus’s, letting Jacob face me as
we spoke.
“The first night
I got here, those things came after me.” Jacob’s head snapped to me, his eyes
wide and bulging. “Yeah,” I nodded, “a scout, I guess, happened across me, and
the rest came and I was stuck in a tree. They were about to climb up and get me,
but then these creepy birds came and started attacking them.”
“Birds attacking
cats?” Jacob said with a strangled laugh. “Well now, that’s a turn.”
“I know. I feel
a little like Alice down the rabbit hole here.”
I twisted in the
saddle to reach into the bag with the weapons and retrieved the pistol grip
crossbow, setting it on my lap while I pulled out the short sword and the
quiver of small arrows. I had never used a sword before, unless you counted the
many times Steven, Jodi, and I had battled through the aisles of Toys R Us with
red and green light sabers. Even in my self-defense lessons with Michael, we
hadn’t progressed to traditional weapons. He wanted me to learn how to use
improvised weapons like my purse or a rolled up magazine.
“Where’d you get
those?” Jacob asked, rocking in his saddle as his horse shifted its weight.
“Filched them,”
I said, using his term.
“Smart,” he said
with a quick nod.
“Here.” I leaned
over Fearghus’s neck to hold the sword out to him. “I’d probably end up cutting
myself.”
“And you know
how to use one of them, do ya?” he asked, nodding toward the crossbow.
I pulled one of
the arrows out of the quiver and set it into the groove on the crossbow,
pulling it until the string was taut and there was an audible click. “Actually,
I’ve never used one before, but it’s a pistol grip, and my grandfather did
teach me how to shoot a gun,” I said as I lifted my arm, gripping the crossbow
and squinting my eye as I aimed. “Shouldn’t be that different.”
Jacob made a
noise of derision, not that I could blame him; it probably was very different from
firing my grandfather’s six-shooter. But I had never wielded a sword, so I
would take my chances with something at least a little bit familiar.
“And you? Do you
know what to do with that?”
“I took fencing
as a kid.” He shrugged, rotating his grip on the sword.
“Yeah, so you’re
no expert either,” I said. Jacob lifted his eyes to me; the red fringe of hair
fell into his eyes. He shook his head, tossing his hair out of his eyes, and he
laughed.
“I suppose I’m
not. Well, it’s better than being empty-handed. Thank you,” he added, lifting
the sword in the air with a nod.
“You’re welcome.”
I nodded back. “We should keep moving.”
We decided to
stay near the river but moved up into the line of trees for a little coverage
in case the cat monsters were still running downriver. After the close call, we
decided to eat while we rode, munching on the salted beef and raw vegetables.
We let Balor run off into the woods to hunt and the horses stop to graze for a
few minutes. When Balor rejoined us, the fur around his muzzle was streaked in
pink and red. I chose not to dwell on what he did to make that happen.
Later, when we
finally decided to stop to rest, I practiced with the crossbow. I chose a tree
with a natural circular knot at shoulder height and paced off ten feet. My
first shot went way high. I had to climb up the trunk until I could pull it
free.
“All right,” I
mumbled, “so it is a little different than a gun.” My next shot went wide,
veering to the right and landing in the ground about twenty feet past the tree.
Gritting my teeth, I stalked over to get it. When I was back in position, I
heard Jacob approach behind me, trying to be quiet to keep from breaking my
concentration. I didn’t know if he had seen the two wild shots or heard my
mutterings and curses, but now that he stood behind me and watched, I felt my
shoulders inching toward my ears. I really didn’t need an audience right now.
I heard my
grandfather’s voice telling me to relax my shoulders. For a moment, I thought I
could feel the gentle press of his warm fingers, urging my shoulders down. “Remember
to breathe,” he’d always said. Closing my eyes, I drew in a breath through my
nose, holding it for a moment and letting it press my lungs open, and dropped
my shoulders. I eased the strain I was putting on my elbow, and when I opened
my eyes, I squeezed the trigger.
The arrow
thunked into the circular knot just to the right of center. The memory of my grandfather’s
voice drowned out whatever Jacob said behind me. I smiled as my grandfather
faded away.
“Did you say
something?” I asked, turning to face Jacob. I pulled another arrow out of the
quiver hanging from my belt. It was a little uncomfortable as the belt was
higher on my waist than the type of belt the quiver usually sat on, but I’d
made do by sliding it around to my back and angling it to be able to draw the
arrows without them spilling out. I felt a little like Maid Marian – the one
that took care of herself, not the one that depended on Robin to save her.
“I said well
done,” Jacob replied, and for the first time, I saw him smile without a hint of
anger or irony. It transformed his face. His blue eyes looked clearer than they
had in days and the strain around his mouth was gone.
“Thanks,” I
said, dropping my eyes back to the crossbow. I didn’t want to tell him that if
he hadn’t tried to sneak up on me, I probably would’ve shot the ground again. I
took ten more feet back and tried again. I kept at it until I was a good thirty
feet away from the tree and able to hit it every time, maybe not always on that
knot, but I stopped missing the entire tree by the time my shoulder began to
ache.
I decided thirty
feet was far enough. If anything got too close to me then, either they were
close enough for me to be sure I wouldn’t miss or the crossbow would be useless
because they’d have caught me. Besides, there were too many trees to keep
moving back without others getting in my way, and the crossbow was only so
powerful. The arrows would only fly so far.