Feathermore

by Lucy Swing

A hint of a new presence had been in the air lately. I have always been able to sense the slightest disturbance—any indication of another being like myself. I was suspicious of another power being unleashed. This could only bode ill. I assumed that the beacon came from an enemy.

  The hunt had begun, and as with all my schemes, I would use the utmost secrecy and care. I had to know the nature and intent of this unknown creature. Following the scent, I came nearer and nearer until I found the source.

  I had planned to send a spy ahead. The panther was pure happenstance—it happened to be nearby when I needed something to control. A bear or red wolf would have suited just as well. I ordered it to prowl around the house for a few days, and eventually it brought back mental images of the family. A dark-haired girl lived there. Something more lay within than appeared on the surface. Her eyes were a clear giveaway. Maybe not to an unthinking mortal, but for us it was unquestionable. Time was all I needed.

  In fact, the mysteries deepened, and the peril I found myself in was worse than I could have imagined. There, in the unreasoning animal mind of the panther, I also found a memory of two faces I knew well: one set of gray eyes, of the doubled and mirrored, of a pair always together, golden haired and divine—an enemy to be feared. These were not the sources of the unbridled beacon, though. These two knew how to control their true nature.

  While the panther gathered the information needed, I plotted. All possible means of having a direct encounter with the girl were too risky. The gray-eyed menace seemed to be always present, and even when not visibly around, it was still too dangerous for me to gamble on its staying away and not returning at an inopportune moment.

  One day, a change of events led to an opening, a chance for me to act. The girl was given a conveyance to use, and left for school on her own for the very first time. The greatest chance to succeed in confronting her was for her to return alone later. The decision was made. The only people around were her mother and father: the perfect bait.

  During midday of the girl’s birthday, with an unrestrained power and an intent that I alone could have given it, the panther broke through the unlocked French doors into the living room, where it scattered Halloween decorations about. I remained hidden in the trees while the animal did as it was commanded to.

  I entered and walked across the room, neither giving a second glance to the carnage below nor caring. I knelt and stroked the sleeping cat. And there I stayed until she came home.

  8. shattered