And the Creek Don't Rise

by R. M. Gilmore

  The tape peeled back easily but I had to jimmy the cardboard to stay closed from the outside. I put the truck in Neutral and pushed the old beast—the other one—down the driveway, starting it up only when I thought Garret wouldn’t hear.

  Warm sun hovered over the mountains, one last tease before dusk. The beast yawned and stretched inside. Soon she’d pace, antsy for her night to come.

  Becoming

  I watched the sun set through my dirty windshield on the bank of Blue Mountain Lake, in the spot where Rusty had parked that night. Some weird place inside me thought he’d be there waiting. Grinning, shirtless, beer in hand, waist-deep in the water. I was alone. Even the cicadas had gone quiet for the night.

  She stirred inside, my beastly thing, ready for her turn. I pulled my boots off and set them on the floorboard, stacked a clean pair of shorts and a shirt in the seat before shutting the unlocked door, keys in the glovebox. If someone came all the way out there to steal my shitty old truck, then let them have it.

  Cool, soft soil squished around my feet. I pushed my toes into it, feeling the earth squeeze between them. Tiny plips echoed off the water, fish popping through the surface to snag their dinner. Life went on living around me. And it would. Whether I wanted it to or not.

  I made my way around the lake to the cove where I’d decided I loved Rusty Kemp. The ghosts of us lingered behind, splashing and laughing and living and loving without even knowing it. It’s a sad truth, the saying you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.

  The stone around my neck warmed, flickering a low green light. Over the top of the mountains the sun blazed one last fiery farewell. The beast rumbled.

  Fear had taken a break in my soul, making room for things like acceptance, peace, and a hint of pride. It may have been the stone or my new tattoos. Whatever the cause, I was ready for the night, for what it would bring.

  I closed my eyes, shot a single prayer up to the powers that be. Don’t kill anyone.

  “Rusty… let me see you one more time,” I begged, gut churning.

  “It’s not his turn, deirfiúr.”

  I jumped and lost my footing in the muddy bank, hollering loud enough to rustle birds from a tree. “Who the hell are you?” I scrambled up from the dirt, keeping my eye on the small woman. “And why are you wearing a nightgown?” It wasn’t the strangest thing I’d seen in a week, but it also wasn’t every day that a woman in a sheer white dress sneaked up on you in the middle of nowhere.

  Dark brown hair flittered around her face in the windless night. She circled slowly around me, her gown blowing in the unseen breeze. “This visit isn’t about who I am. It’s about who you are.” Her accent softened the syllables into one long word—speaking in cursive like the redhaired woman had. White-blue eyes locked onto mine while she made her first round.

  My heart thudded, adrenaline pumping. “What am I? Just tell me. I’ve been waiting, beggin’, praying.”

  A smug grin pulled the corners and her mouth up. “Gammy, Cu,” she grumbled. “My name is Avery.” Her circling was starting to spin my head into knots. “I’ve been charged as your guide.” I turned with her, untying her knots, and tangling more.

  “Will you stop that?” I shouted.

  She sucked air in through her nose, pulling her soft features in with it, wrinkling porcelain skin into a sagging, soggy mess. Her eyes flashed pure white. Billowing brown hair flipped around her face in dense, dripping snakes. One long, piercing scream heaved from deep in her lungs, blowing me over. I toppled to my ass, moist dirt soaked through my jeans.

  As the echoes of her screech faded, so did the haggard woman she’d become. Smooth skin rounded out her cheeks and her white eyes shifted back to blue.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, looking up at her from the ground.

  She brushed make-believe dust from her arms. “Just a parlor trick, deary.”

  “Are you like… me? A beastly thing inside of you too?” She raised her brows. A cocky expression half-closed her eyes. “You’re supposed to help me?” Pain in my core doubled me over. There were just minutes left before she would burst free. “What am I?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “Godshite, girl, get up off the ground. I can’t talk to you down in the muck.”

  Shaky legs forced me up from the dirt. “Hurry, I don’t have—” I groaned, holding my aching sides.

  Her eyes shifted to the setting sun behind me. Without any more urgency, she said, “You are Sidhe.” Curled in on myself, I blinked up at her. She sighed. “An ancient sect of fae.”

  I blinked again. The beast went silent—maybe she blinked at the woman too. “I’m… a fairy?”

  Avery groaned and turned away from me, plucking a leaf from a low branch. Her hair blew in waves down her back. “American. Not a fancy thing with wings and a wand and all tha’, flittin’ about in the woods.” She spun the leaf in her fingers. “Some are rotten little mogs, causing mischief, havoc. Some are like you. And me. Sidhe have a purpose. A job. And you, my beastly little thing, are one of a kind.” I swallowed, choking on my truth. “The only living breathing Cu Sidhe in this dimension.” She roared inside at the sound of her name and an unexpected tear fell down my cheek.

  “Don’t I feel special,” I slurred, wishing I was back on the ground, knowing full well my knees would soon give way and take me down anyway.

  “I don’t have all night, and clearly neither do you, so shut up and let me finish.” She lifted the stone from my chest. The green glow reflected in her eyes. “Where’s your Ogham?”

  Fresh fur tickled under my skin. “What?”

  “You’re really gon’ have to keep up. Your markin’s. You have the Black Sentry.” She dropped the stone. “And the geas? You read it?” Words refused to leave my tongue. “Sealed the deal.”

  I huffed panting breaths. “I did this? I could’ve stop it?”

  Her head flipped back and she laughed one loud bark. “There’s no stoppin’ it. You were born Sidhe. You will die Sidhe. Accept it.”

  Trembling legs finally gave out, sending me to the earth on my knees. I looked up at her. “But the women. In the woods.”

  Her dress billowed around her legs before she squatted to meet me. “Ghosts of a curse long past.” She watched my stone brighten; it heated my skin. “Listen to my words.” An inch from mine, her lips moved quickly, pushing each lazy syllable into my face. “You will bid the will of death until another takes your place.” Cold breath filled my lungs. “The bearer of vengeance, justice, punishment.”

  I sucked in air, taking in her chilled breaths. “I am vengeance.” I winced, my voice sounding hollow, far away.

  “You are Cu Sidhe. You are death.”

  I met her eyes, squared my shoulders, and said the words from deep in my soul. “I am death.” Pride filled me to the brim. “I am Cu Sidhe.” The beast stretched her monstrous paws, kneading claws against my insides.

  Avery sat back and smiled. “There you are, love.” She stood, her dress flapping around my body. “If your granny’d accepted who she was, if she hadn’t let her fear win, poor Percy would’ve died an old man.” She picked another leaf and watched it twirl in her fingers.

  A scream popped from my gut. The sun was gone. And so was I. Legs pulled to my chest, I rolled to my side.

  “Damned humans have no business in our world. Don’t have the soul for it.” Bare feet stood a foot from my face. My back arched, popped. “There you are,” she sang. Cold hands ripped at my shirt, pulling it up over my head. She ran a finger down my spine, sending a chill over my already humming skin.

  I opened my mouth to ask her about Nana, to force her to tell me everything before the beast took over. A screeching howl came out in its place. A true gust of wind kicked up leaves and dirt, swirled Avery’s hair around her face, and swept her away.

  We were alone, my beast and me. One being. One
mind. One soul. I’d sealed the deal. Accepted my truth. My purpose.

  Vengeance. Justice. Punishment.

  I was death.

  On the bank of Blue Mountain Lake, I was born for the second time. A beast. Cu Sidhe.

  And this is the part of the story where the action begins.

  Good Mourning

  Heavy paws slapped the soggy bank. A huff shot snot from my muzzle. My long braided tail whipped the thick night air—wet, humid, it matted my fur into pointed tufts. She shook it straight, my shaggy body flopping back and forth. The glowing stone swung at my throat, the strap tight.

  It’d been a long time since she’d worn it, the weight of it was cumbersome. Would take some getting used to again. I’d have to loosen the strap when I had thumbs again. This body was hers to control, but we shared knowledge, cunning. She didn’t think in words, or pictures, not that I could hear or see. What the beast knew, what she understood, I’d know. When I needed to, apparently.

  We stalked the woods, moving freely through thick trees, pushing past brush. The world a lush green. Death was my job. Righteous kills. I was vengeance, but for who? How many people needed justice in Havana, Arkansas? Percy hadn’t left just to keep Nana, or the town, safe. Work sent him away. And soon, it’d send me away too. Walking the night, fighting crime. Or something. Alone.

  The day Garret moved out, Mama came into my room crying. When I asked her why she was crying, she ran her hand over my head, looked me dead in the eye, and said because now she’d be alone. I told her I’d be there, that she wouldn’t be alone. Mama just shook her head and said one day I’d know what lonely felt like. Hindsight being what it was, she should’ve been more specific.

  I should’ve gone deeper into the woods, somewhere I wouldn’t be caught. Desperation hoped he’d be there, my shimmering angel—which was peculiar since he’d never been angelic in his life. If I was going to survive this new life, I’d have to start thinking like the beast. My stupid, reckless human heart had taken me back to that place. And the beast had found what I was looking for.

  She snorted and sniffed the ground, dragging in his scent. Our heart sped, thumping a hopeful tune. Rusty. He was everywhere. And nowhere.

  We moved quickly through the line of bushes to a place I recognized even through my mystical night vision. No. I wanted to see him, but not like that. Not that Rusty. The tangy, sweet smell of him lingered on every leaf, the rocks that circled the now dead fire pit, soaked into the earth itself. Blood I’d spilt.

  My beast whimpered, unseen sadness from my soul to hers. Even animals mourned their dead. As much as I was becoming my beast, she became me.

  Dry dirt puffed around my heavy paws as she paced, drawing in Rusty with each panting huff. For the first time, her thoughts—what they were—raced.

  She’d found what I’d come looking for. Like a VHS tape finding its track, Rusty’s limp body flickered lime green into the scene and back out. A ghost of curses past. My sorrowing cry of solace howled, echoing through the still night.

  With a weighted flop, we fell to the forest floor. Defeated. Wholly ready to be done with it all. Another whimper, and a huff.

  Wailing wind ruffled my shaggy fur, swirling leaves and dirt. Avery’s bare feet, almost covered by her billowing dress, touched the ground feet from me.

  “Oh, love, you have much to learn, yet,” she said, sitting on a fallen log.

  Avery ran her hand over my head, scratching a spot I wouldn’t have thought was itchy. “This place has no power for you.” My fiery eyes looked up at her. “Your love is gone.” Huff. “I will never lie to you, so ready your heart.”

  Petting me like a dog—which I wasn’t convinced I was—should’ve been a kick in the shin, but we liked it.

  “Rest yourself, now. Let go of who you were. That girl, she died in this place. Mourn them both tonight, wake in the morning knowing who you were born to be, Lynnie Russell.”

  Avery said my name for the first time and the beast’s heart warmed. Like she’d been waiting to know who she was too.

  She traced her thumb up and down between my eyes. They slowly closed. “Mo ghrá den chéad fhéachaint thú, ’Eleanóir, a rún,” she sang. Her song, in a language like the one that revived me from death, warbled in her throat, echoing back on itself in the trees.

  A long, exhausted breath pushed from my snout. I wanted to go home. Sleep in my bed. Storm into my nana’s house and ask her every question expecting every answer. Go back in time and do that night over.

  Nana survived because she’d ran. Whatever that meant for Percy, well, that’s how she goes sometimes. If Rusty had ran, left me there to meet my fate… I hadn’t believed in fate. A series of poor choices was usually the culprit for wrong turns in life. This thing I’d become, it’d been waiting for me at the end of a cul-de-sac.

  Pain woke me. A sharp, searing poker in the gut. Dawn was on the horizon. Fire deep in my body blazed and shot through my furry limbs. Each hair along my rough hide retracted, fangs on a venomous snake. Together we endured the torture of trading places.

  Day broke, washing shimmering light over my tan skin, grotesquely reflecting off the gooey remnants of my beast. The last howl of transformation scratched through my human throat. I panted, an animal recovering from pain, welcoming another morning with a hardening heart. Birds sang from their perch nestled somewhere in a nearby tree. If I’d had a rifle, I’d have shot those birds. What did they have to sing about?

  I sat up and shook leftover beast from my skin. Avery’s lullaby had given us a reprieve from our endless days and nights. In the sunny light of day, the weight of my future hung heavy.

  She’d gone with the night, my enlisted guide. Leaving me with more questions than answers. If Avery was truly meant to help me, she needed better time management.

  Without my beastly body, the scent of Rusty was gone. But the ghost of my death, theirs, was burned into the very earth. Red specks dotted rocks around the fire pit. I closed my eyes, pretending it was paint, or animal blood at least. His face flashed in my mind, sickly dark, crusted blood caked the creases of his skin. My eyes popped open and I gasped, sucking in a painful gulp of air.

  “Fuck,” I screamed, hefting one of the rocks and hurling it a few yards away.

  The universe, and the heavens, and the magic that made me what I was could downright go fuck itself. My beast rumbled, sharing in my misery.

  The walk back to the truck was longer than I’d expected. It was hard to believe that poor deputy had carried me all that way. Granted he’d been wearing boots. And clothes.

  When my truck came into sight through the trees, I stopped, knelt behind a shrub, and listened. I’d be exposed for a dozen yards and couldn’t risk being seen by some lone fisherman out for an early morning bite.

  Water lapped sluggishly against the bank. Those brainless, cheery birds sang on. No footfalls moved through the woods. I closed my eyes and tugged at the beast, listening for the faint sound of a human heart glugging away. We sniffed the air—my nose not nearly the power of her snout—hunting for the scent of a human.

  Clear of any accidental peepers, I scurried from the forest to the truck. Early morning light danced on the lake. Beauty sent down from God. A gift to heal my tattered soul. Go. My heart sped and without another thought, I ran into the water, splashing through the cold chest-deep.

  Golden sun warmed my cheeks. I leaned back and let the lake carry my body. Floating, tits out for the world to see, my wet skin soaked up the sunshine right down into my soul. Avery’s song played over in my head, calming my fiery heart. Her words meant nothing to me, but my beast knew it was a song about love.

  My body was calm, still, but my heart waited for something that would never come. A silent tear rolled down my cheek and plopped into the water. “Rusty, you shithead, how am I supposed to keep on this life without you in it?”

  A long, flitterin
g whisper floated over the lake. “I’m here.”

  Hands flapped hard against the water. I righted myself, covering my boobs, standing waist deep in the water. “Hello?” I scanned the bank for Avery, hoping that I was otherwise alone.

  When no one answered, I waded back to the bank, hustling to the truck. Hiding behind the open door, I pulled a clean pair of skivvies over my butt and slipped into a white top.

  “Hurry.”

  I spun around, searching for the owner of the ghostly voice. “Who’s there?” I swallowed. “Please answer me.”

  Still as stone, I stood and waited. Even my heart stopped to hear the voice I desperately wanted.

  “Home, Lynn. Go home.”

  I didn’t wait around to ask questions. I knew that voice by heart. I poured my legs into a pair of shorts. My muddy feet kicked boots away from the pedals.

  “I’m coming.” I promised.

  Trembling hands refused to work the key. I closed my eyes, filled my lungs with cleansing air, and blew it out slow. Get it together, Lynn. I shoved the key home and cranked it over. She roared to life. Inside, I burned, desperate to get home.

  “Wait for me,” I begged and yanked the shifter into place. “I’m coming.”

  Loving Things’ll Kill You

  I barreled toward home, cramming my foot against the brake feet from the porch. A trail of dust swirled up the driveway behind me.

  “I’m coming,” I panted under my breath. “I’m coming.”

  The door was open and I was tumbling out before my fingers found the buckle release. “Fuck.” I fumbled with the button and it finally came loose.

  Dried mud flaked off my feet as I stomped up the steps. The porch echoed back at me. “I’m here.” Shaking hands hardly managed the key. I shoved through the door. “I’m here.”

  Dead space. Hollow. Empty. “No.” I shook my head. “No, no, no. I’m here. I came.” My voice cracked. I tore through the house, checking every darkened corner. “Rusty,” I called. Nothing.