by Jen Pretty
I checked the room to be sure I hadn't forgotten anything, then slipped out of the room and down to the saloon to return the key.
The dining room in the inn was much more subdued. There was no one playing music, and the men and women who had been loud and jolly the night before were quietly eating their breakfast with little conversation.
I saw the large man I had gotten the key from the night before in the kitchen frying eggs on a skillet over the fire and wove my way toward him.
"I've come to return the key," I said, dragging the man's attention away from the pan.
"Oh, good. Thank you." He reached out and I set the key in his hand. "The boy should have been up for a few hours now, so he should have your horse fed and ready to go. Did you want breakfast first?"
"No, thank you," I said.
The man returned to his work, and I turned, leaving the inn and hurrying around back to find Copper so we could make our way down to the docks. I had never taken Copper in a boat before but I bet he would be fine.
"Hello?" I called as I walked into the barn. It was silent, not a sound. Not even a nicker from Copper. "Hello? Eddie?" I tried again.
The sun had risen, but it was still dim in the barn, so I walked further, checking each stall. There were a few thin, bony-looking horses, but when I got to Copper's stall, I found the door open and a small form slumped on the ground.
"Eddie?" I rushed forward and rolled him onto his side. His face was a mess of bruises and blood crusted his mouth.
"I'm sorry," he muttered around a fat lip.
"What happened to you?" I asked, my heart racing.
"They took him. I tried to stop them, but they hurt me and I couldn't." Tears leaked out of the boy's eyes and ran through the blood and dirt that caked his face.
"Who did this?" I asked him.
Eddie coughed up blood and then leaned back in my arms taking a shuttering breath. "A man with a mustache and beard. He wore a top hat." He coughed again for a moment before clearing his throat and speaking again. "Said Copper would make a fine meal."
My stomach dropped and all the air left my lungs. A meal? "Was he wearing a long coat, too?" I asked, remembering the way the man I had sold Midnight to had looked at Copper.
"Yes," he muttered, his eyes closing and his body going limp.
I scooped up the boy with more strength than I knew I had and carried him back into the inn. "Help," I called as I walked through the door. "Someone beat the stable boy."
The big man who owned the inn hurried out of the kitchen. "Eddie, what happened?"
The big man scooped Eddie out of my arms. He had a look of concern I hadn't expected from the way he had spoken about the boy and the way he hadn't used Eddie's name when referring to him. I decided that Eddie was in good hands and turned to leave.
"Wait," The man said behind me, grabbing my arm. "What did he say?" Eddie had passed out, his body limp in the big man’s arms.
"A man beat him and stole my horse. I have to go get my horse back, please? Let me go."
The large hand unwrapped from my arm and I raced out the door, careening through the street as though my very life depended on it. I fought down the tears that wanted to spill out of my eyes. There could still be time, though I didn't know how long Eddie had been laying in the barn while I bathed and ate berries. I bit my lip and paused for a passing carriage. Once it had passed, I could see the tents on the edge of town. The sight made my feet move faster until my lungs burned and I felt like I would fall if I ran any faster.
I slid to a stop among the tents. "Copper!" I yelled, but only silence met my ears. Was I too late?
I couldn't catch my breath, so instead I began throwing back the tent panels, checking inside each one. I saw animals of all kinds. Some I had heard about and other that I had not. They had scales and fur and feathers, all unique and from a different land. Finally, I threw a back the cover on the largest tent.
Inside, in a steel cage, lay a tiger, his stripes brilliant even in the dull light. He lay on his side, licking his paw like an overgrown cat. I glanced around and noticed something laying in the corner of the tent, outside the tiger’s cage and a coppery tang filled my nose. A warning in the back of my mind tried to rise to the front, but I stepped forward anyway, carefully moving around the cage, until I was on the far side. I stared down at the thing I had recognized, laying in a puddle.
A puddle of blood.
It was a leather horse halter.
I held my breath and reached down, picking it up. Blood dripped from it to splash down in the puddle below, the sound like a thunderclap in the silence. I stood frozen like that for a long moment, my feet unable to move, all my muscles tense and painful. It was Copper's halter. The one Paxton had put on him.
A single word came to my mind. The same one I had remembered when I had last seen the man with the curiosities. I still had no idea what it meant, but I knew it was powerful. A feeling deep in the pit of my stomach rose, almost as though I would vomit here in this place of death.
"What are you doing here?" a stern voice said behind me.
I spun on my heel, but I had no feeling of being out of place. I belonged here and any other place I chose to go.
He did not.
The man with the moustache must have finally recognized me.
"Ah, you've returned."
"You killed my horse," I said, slamming the halter down in the puddle with a splash. Blood sprayed up, hitting my side, right up to my cheek. I didn't wipe it away. I left the blood of my horse on my face. My war paint. I stared down the man who had destroyed him.
"You have no proof of that," the man said with a cocky smirk. His moustache twitched.
The tiger rose and began to pace the bars, a low rumble coming from him.
"You should get out of here, before I have you charged for entering my property."
A huff of disbelief came from my throat. A sound I had never made before. Something stirred inside me again and I feared I would actually vomit this time, but instead my hand raised of its own will and pointed at the man. That word I had whispered when last I had seen the man rolled across my tongue, begging to be released by my lips.
Euphoria rushed in, replacing the sadness and anger. My spine cracked as I straightened, raising my chin and looking the man dead in the eye. "Beaducwealm!" I said, loud enough for God to hear me. I didn't know what the word meant, but I found out quickly.
The man gave out a bellow as his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground with a crack that rang through the silence. The tiger roared, and I turned on him too. "Beaducwealm."
The tiger shrieked and collapsed in a heap.
I stood, my breath coming in giant gulps, surveying the carnage I had wrought in the small tent. Shivers ran up my spine as I listened to the silence. I glanced out the door of the tent and realized it had begun to snow. Fat flakes twirled and danced, mesmerizing me until my breathing returned to normal and the sadness began to creep back in. It left behind an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.
One last word slipped into my mind and I pointed at the tiger. "Ferjgt," I commanded and the tiger's skin rolled off like a blanket, clean and dry. I reached through the bars and gathered the heavy skin and fur, wrapping it around myself before exiting the tent and striding away as though nothing had happened.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I was halfway across the city before the full depth of what had happened struck me. I ducked into a small shed behind a shop and let the sobs carry me away. Curling up on the dirt floor, my heart broke. Copper was gone. My only friend.
Tears ran, soaking into the dirt to make mud puddles under my cheek as I lay on the ground. I fingered the bracelet I had made with his tail hairs, then brought it to my nose and breathed in a shaky breath. The musky smell that was only Copper brought fresh tears to my eyes and a new wave of sorrow that threatened to turn my stomach inside out. I wanted to die and wondered if I could use the magic word on myself for a second.
"Together ever after, my be
auty and me," I whispered. A sob tried to steal my breath again, but I pressed down the pain.
I took a few deep, shuttering breaths, and wiped my face on the hem of my shirt, before rising and dusting myself off. The tiger skin lay on the ground and for half a second I thought to leave it there, but a strong shiver changed my mind. I wrapped it around my waist, tucking it beneath my skirt so none would question where I got it, but it would keep my legs warm at least, then I stepped out of the shed, stopping at a water trough to rinse my face and my arm free of the blood splatters, careful not to get anything else wet. The snow had stopped, but the air was still frigid.
It would be a few weeks before the water froze. The memory of banging ice out of Copper's water bucket nearly sent fresh tears down my cheeks but I choked them down and moved away from the trough.
I wandered around the city aimlessly for hours.
I had no target or goal. My mind knew I should talk to men at the docks about getting across to Avalon, but the pain of loss kept my chest too tight to speak. Breaking down again would be too painful, so I walked the day away. By midafternoon, I had blisters on my feet and my legs felt like willows in a hurricane. I looked up to find I was on the shore of the lake. The bustling docks were nearly a half mile away, but I could see the men moving about.
I sat on a large rock overlooking the water and stared out into the fog. It seemed there was always fog on the water, even in the early winter cold. I tried to peer through the murk, but it was useless. Whatever lay beyond was a mystery. One I would need to climb aboard a boat to solve.
I took out the book of magic and stared at the cover for a long time, lost in my thoughts of Copper and Paxton and everything I had lost in the last months. How could I possibly expect to find a home in Avalon, when everywhere I went and everything I touched crumpled like ash. I should have taken a rock and killed myself years ago.
My fingers travelled back to the clump of hair that circled my wrist. It was a beautiful ginger with strands of gold and dark brown twined in. Copper's tail. A lump in my throat pressed hard and rose up but I forced it and the accompanying tears back down. I needed to get across the lake before nightfall. Pulling in a few full breaths, I pulled my sleeve down to cover the bracelet. I could mourn him once I was safe and home in Avalon.
Everything would be better once I was there. I just needed to get there. My birthright.
I rose and straightened my skirt, making sure I still had all my possessions. My few things accounted for, I started down the shore towards the docks. It was rocky and waves lapped at the shore, teasing me with the scent of the sea. The smell brought back memories I had thought long forgotten, of a man lifting me and setting me on his shoulders so I could look out over the water. It was just a flash of rough hands and a giant of a man, but I knew it was my father.
I shook off the memory and strode towards the docks. The men hustling about were intimidating. They carried crates and hollered at each other. The scent of fish was strong and slightly putrid. Some decaying fish floated in the water-- the last catches' rejects and the source of the foul smell.
The fishing boats would probably charge less to take me across the lake, so I asked the first one I came across.
"Excuse me?" I called up to the man who sat on a three-legged stool, his feet kicked up on the side of the wooden boat.
"What?" the man asked without looking up from the piece of wood he was whittling with a knife. His calloused hands worked quickly, and I wasn't sure how he still had all his fingers.
"I need to get across the lake," I said. "To Avalon."
The man cursed, and I saw a splash of red blood erupt from his knuckle as the knife slipped. "You get on out of here, girl. I won't have your type near my boat." He had risen to his full height and his face morphed into anger so quickly, I lost all my false nerve and shrunk back from the side of his boat, almost backing off the other side of the dock into the water.
I turned and rushed down the dock and across to the next one where I stopped to catch my breath. I knew that most people didn't like magic, but I hadn't thought Avalon was solely a place of magic. It was a whole island, surely normal people lived there too. I didn't have much choice. I had to keep asking if I wanted to get across.
All the men looked hardened and rough as I studied the rows of boats. I took a deep steadying breath, then stepped onto the dock and started asking people for a lift across the lake. Most of them just waved me away; one very old man with no teeth threw a fish at me. Finally I found someone willing to take me.
He had shifty eyes; one of them seemed to look at me while the other looked past me. "I can get ye there. It'll cost ya though."
"How much?" I asked, praying it wasn't more than I had. I had no way of getting more money and really needed to leave. No one would suspect I had killed the man with the tiger, but it was possible that someone would have seen me in the area.
Curses tried to slip off my tongue but I bit them back. I had just been wandering around asking about Avalon, someone might put it together if anyone started asking. They could figure out I had magic and had killed the man and the tiger.
"Twenty shillings," the man said with a crooked grin that matched his eyes.
"I've only got sixteen," I said.
"I'll take it. Step aboard my vessel, young lassie." He held out his hand, so I took the bag of coins and handed them to him.
"That's a fine dagger you have there," he said at the flash of Paxton's dagger when I lifted my shirt to fetch the coins.
"It's not mine," I said. "I'm just returning it." The lie came easily, maybe too easily, but it had been convincing. The man counted the shillings and then set oars in the water and began to row.
The boat slid through the water until we were away from the docks, then he pulled a rope and a large sail slid down, immediately catching the wind and pushing the boat forward at a brisk pace. It was only a moment later that the boat slipped into the deep fog that always seemed to hang on the water. The temperature dropped until I was shivering on the wooden seat in the boat. Water spit up from the front where the boat cut through the lake, increasing my shivering until my teeth chattered.
"You need a coat, woman. Winter is almost here."
"I'll get one in Avalon," I said, sounding surer than I was. If I was supposed to be there, if this was my birthright as Margarette had said, then hopefully I would find a home there and make my way somehow.
The man didn't speak again, but a few moments later he began to whistle a tune. It was slow and haunting, with a bravado that raised bumps down my arms. I couldn't see at all in the thick fog, making me feel like I was a sitting target out on the water.
"How much farther is it?" I asked.
The man glanced back at me. "Another hour maybe. The wind decides, but I'd say tonight the wind wants us there in a hurry." He began to whistle a soft tune.
Another gust came up, ruffling my clothes and hair and making the boat lurch forward. The wood creaked, and the sail drew tight as the man adjusted the ropes and used an oar to help steer the small vessel.
My eyes watered at the biting wind and I quickly wiped the tears away before they could freeze to my cheek. Another hour and I would be frozen to the seat. I needed to use the tiger skin.
I kept my eyes on the man and as soon as he turned to look ahead, I reached under my skirt and pulled the tiger skin down, then wrapped it, fur side against my skin, around my shoulders. The difference was immediate, but the sadness at what I had done to an innocent animal reared up, choking me. I had killed a tiger. I had never even seen one before today, but I imagined they were rare and special. My mind refused to think about what had happened. I should be more upset about killing the man, but I wasn't. He deserved what he got.
The thick fog blocked most of the light, but I could tell when the sun began to set. The fog looked black all around us, as though the world had ended and we were all that was left. A panic began in my stomach. I felt trapped and alone, lost at sea. My mind raced, the e
erie sound of the boat mixed with the incessant sound of the whistling tune the fisherman kept repeating.
I gripped the wooden seat, trying to contain myself as a word came to my mind, unbidden. I didn't know what it meant. It was a word from the back of the book, one I couldn't understand. I bit my tongue until I tasted blood, refusing to say any more words I didn't know. The last one had been deadly, there was no telling what would happen if I spoke this word. It burned at my throat, but I refused. I wouldn't say it.
"There she is," the fisherman said, pulling me out of my inner battle.
I glanced ahead and there it was.
Avalon.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The blue peaks of buildings looked like spears shooting into the sky. The fog had receded, leaving the island bare in the evening light. An eerie glow seemed to hover over the island, almost lighting it from within.
"Oh my," I whispered.
The fisherman chuckled, pulling up the sail and slowing the boat. A waterfall crashed off a cliff into the lake, spraying a mist of water into the air. The fresh scent reached my nose, unlike any I had smelled before. It didn't have the stench of rotting fish, or seaweed; it smelled clean and sweet.
The fisherman picked up his oars again and began to row us towards a dock that sat on the water. It was small, barely big enough to tie one boat, but the fisherman steered into the dock and lined it up perfectly.
I rose, still gaping up at the buildings on the island. They were unlike anything I had ever seen before. They had glass windows and smooth exterior walls that looked like polished stone.
"You take care of yourself, lassie." The fisherman said after I stepped off the boat. He was already rowing away.
I waved, but he didn't look back, just kept going until he disappeared into the fog.
I pulled the tiger skin tighter, the temperature near freezing now and the wind whipping around. Waves, blown up by the wind, hit the shore as if it were the ocean. The climb from the dock to the island was steep. Stone steps had been cut into the side of the rock face, but they were slick and narrow, so I moved carefully. I didn't want to end up in the water below.