Spirit

by Shauna Granger

  “Thank you,” I said, reaching to scratch his snout. He nuzzled my hand before laying his head back down on his paws, closing his eyes, and finally going to sleep. I scooted back down to lay next to him. Turning my head, I buried my face in Balor’s fur, curling one arm around him just to have something warm and alive to hold on to while I slept.

  Chapter 10

  I spent the next two nights slowly stealing the supplies I needed. Most of the creatures didn’t seem to care when I took something since everyone pretty much just shared everything. First I took some saddlebags from one rider-less horse for my own. The brownie man tending the horses glared at me but didn’t stop me. I even managed to get some new clothes. My sweater was so torn, filthy, and stretched out it had to be replaced.

  Pulling that sweater off and throwing it away felt wonderful. A dwarf man had brought me a grey shirt with a wide collar and a thick black leather belt to help make the over-long shirt fit. They were sent by Gwyn, much to my surprise. I was just glad I was wearing my leather boots and jeans when I died. Wearing the same clothes I wore when I died was strange, not that I had any idea what else was supposed to happen. I hadn’t really expected to wake up in the tunnel of light wearing some white gossamer robes with a glowing halo hanging over my head and a harp strapped to my belt.

  But I admit, I had thought the afterlife would be a little cleaner, prettier even, than a strange, stagnant quasi-existence. The Outlands weren’t much different than my time on Earth as a wraith, going from place to place, looking for an escape, nothing ever changing. But I had a feeling that was because I had followed Gwyn this whole time. He’d been looking for the edge for who knows how long, so why would things change now? It was time I took off on my own.

  That night’s ride felt longer than the others somehow. We ran through the mountains until the magic took us, and suddenly we ran along a wide, rushing river. By the time we broke for camp, my back was in knots and my legs tingled with exhaustion. For a moment, I wondered if Gwyn had purposely exhausted me so much to keep me from leaving. I checked my horse’s saddle, making sure it was secure as best I could. One of my saddle bags was full of raw vegetables and salted meat I took from various barrels on the wagons, and the other had a rolled up blanket, a short sword, and a small, pistol grip crossbow and short arrows. My magic looking glass was wrapped in cloth to protect it.

  I pushed a stray lock of hair out of my face as I stretched out my back. Gwyn’s braid was still holding up, but a few tendrils had started to pull loose. I would have loved to pull the braid loose, go wash my hair, and ask Gwyn to braid it again, but he had gone back to avoiding me since that last moment in his tent. I was a little embarrassed to admit I dreamt about his fingers in my hair as he methodically brushed and braided it.

  My back cracked in multiple pops as I straightened up. I groaned, half in relief and half in pain. I wanted nothing more than to find a soft spot to lie down and get some sleep. The more I thought about it, the more I was convinced Gwyn had kept us riding longer than usual just to wear me out so I wouldn’t leave that night. Well, he was in for disappointment. A little soreness wouldn’t keep me there any longer. I had a feeling, while no one seemed to care I was gathering supplies, they wouldn’t like it if I left the group, taking supplies and a horse with me. I planned to sneak away once everyone was asleep.

  “I don’t even know your name,” I said to my horse as I ran the brush over his side. The horse chewed his grass, only the twitch of his ear letting me know he heard me.

  “Talking to horses now,” the brownie man said, sneaking up behind me. I jumped and spun around to see him just a couple of feet behind me.

  “Don’t do that!” I said as my heart pounded against my chest.

  “Hmph.” He shook his small brown head. He narrowed his eyes at me and glared for a moment before he walked to another horse and started to fuss over it.

  “What’s wrong with talking to the horses?” I asked when I knew my voice was under control, but he didn’t answer. I turned back to my horse to finish brushing him and asked him, “Everyone’s just so chatty around here, aren’t they?”

  “Fearghus,” the brownie man answered, his voice muffled as he stood under a horse, checking the saddle straps.

  “Excuse me?” I turned to look over my shoulder.

  “Fearghus,” he said again, his gravelly voice still difficult to understand even though he stepped closer to me to be heard.

  “Fearghus?” I repeated. He nodded and turned back to the horse. “So, is that his name?” I turned back to my horse, lifting my chin to look up at him, his head nearly two feet above mine.

  “Fearghus, is it?” I asked, feeling a little silly asking a horse a question, but he dropped his head, bobbing it in answer. I blinked up at him, my mouth open and words caught in my throat. I recovered quickly enough to say, “That’s a lovely name.”

  Placing one hand on his muzzle, I gave him a scratch. The brownie man scoffed behind me, making an ugly noise as he laughed at me. I rolled my eyes but refused to turn around and acknowledge his mockery. Fearghus pushed into my hand, his fist sized eyes blinking slowly.

  “So,” I whispered to Fearghus, “are you ready to go with me tonight?” He shook his head from side to side, tossing his white mane before bobbing it again. I patted his neck, and just as I was about to toss the brush in the pail with the others, I stopped. Looking around, I realized the brownie man had left, so I quickly stuck the brush in my saddle bag with the weapons.

  “You can thank me later,” I whispered to Fearghus.

  I was just about ready to leave. The only thing left I could think of that I really needed to survive on my own was flint to start a fire. I made my way over to the nearest fire ring and sat between a bloody Redcap and a Roane, his seal skin laid out on the riverbank, making him look like a deboned animal. His hollow eyes were like two black holes gaping at me. I grimaced and turned my face away, trying to force that gruesome thought out of my mind.

  The ground rumbled under me, and for one panicked moment, I thought it was an earthquake. A mound of dirt spilled up and a gnome crawled out. He looked like a perfect, tiny little human, only two, maybe two and a half feet tall, bald with bright red sideburns that hung past his jaw. He had a matching goatee and bushy red eyebrows over his bright green eyes. His black boots were faded brown with the same dirt that coated his hands and arms. He had a pair of old-fashioned goggles strapped to his head.

  Clutched in his hand was a small flint, and with a scrape of a tiny dagger, he had the fire lit in moments. He stood back and watched the fire as if he thought it might gutter out. When the flames took and began to grow brighter and hotter, he nodded, satisfied, and dropped the flint and knife by his feet before clapping his hands, causing a cloud of dirt to appear.

  I stared at the flint, so painfully close I could just reach out and grab it. Dinner was stew again, and all of the fires had a potbelly caldron simmering away. When the bowls were full and everyone was distracted by the food, I extended my leg and covered the flint with my foot. Sitting that way for so long was awkward, but I had to wait until everyone was done eating and turning in.

  When I was the only one left on my side of the fire, I got to my feet a little clumsily, picking up the flint as I pretended to fix my bootlace. A quick glance told me no one was paying me any attention, so I snatched up the knife as well, tucking it into the back of my belt. I grabbed a forgotten coat from a wagon as I made my way back toward the horses to wait out the last stirring creature. It felt like hours before the entire camp was asleep, but with the moon never moving, I couldn’t be sure.

  Once I had Fearghus untied from the trees they had used as a makeshift stable, I led him by the reins downriver. I decided a slow and quiet escape was smarter than trying to ride him out. I expected galloping away would rouse the camp. Soon the glowing firelight faded in the background and the quiet of the forest pressed close. I was so grateful to have Fearghus with me, another living, breathing thing to fend o
ff the oppressive loneliness.

  The sound of Fearghus’s hooves on the ground was hypnotizing, and I was almost lost in the rhythmic sound. At first, I didn’t hear the sound of pounding feet coming up behind me. I spun at the last possible second, reaching for the knife at my back when a blur of white barreled into me, knocking me to the ground. Fearghus screamed, rearing up and kicking at the air before he came back down, dangerously close to my face. He took off at a run.

  When I opened my eyes again, Balor stood over me, just like he had when he first found me in the forest. This time he wasn’t smiling down at me. His mouth was closed and his red, red eyes were dark with anger.

  “Balor,” I hissed, “you scared me to death.” The irony was lost on the dog.

  Balor put his nose close to my face and huffed, blowing warm air over my face. His furry white eyebrows twitched as he glared at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, pushing him off of me. “I can’t stay; I have to find the edge.” Though he had moved back when I pushed him, he stepped forward, shoving me back to the ground.

  “Balor,” I said, my voice harder, “enough.” I shoved him again, but he only moved back enough to let me sit up, not to stand. We stared at each other.

  “Do you…” I hesitated, tilting my head to the side. He mirrored my movement. “Do you want to go with me?” Balor took a half step into my space and put his nose against my cheek, the cold wet making me shiver.

  “Won’t Gwyn miss you?” I asked.

  Balor huffed against my cheek, blowing the loose tendrils of hair away from my face.

  “All right,” I said, chuckling lightly. “You can come with me.” He licked my face, from jaw to hairline, making me grimace.

  “Ugh,” I said, standing up, “thanks a lot.”

  I walked over to the river and splashed my face with the cold water to wash off the slobber. Drying my face with my sleeve, I looked around until I spotted Fearghus, yards away, grazing on the grass at the edge of the river.

  Luckily, Fearghus had gotten over his scare, and he let me take his reins and guide him away from the riverbank, back up onto firmer land. Balor paced beside me, watching everywhere I went as if he was afraid I would leave him again.

  I debated continuing to just walk beside Fearghus; after riding so much, I didn’t relish the idea of getting back in that saddle. I held the reins with Fearghus on my right and Balor on my left, leading us farther downriver. The two huge animals gave me more warmth than I had felt since coming here. The rush of the water drowned out any sounds the hidden creatures in the forest might have made, leaving us in a sort of calm quiet that made the sound of the trotting horse behind us sound like machine gunfire.

  Instinctively I ducked, making both Balor and the horse taller than me. Balor swung his head almost a hundred and eighty degrees to look over his shoulder, his red ears pointing straight up. Fearghus danced nervously next to me as the approaching horse came closer. They must’ve realized Balor or I was gone, and they were coming to get me for stealing so much. Maybe I had pushed my luck and broken some cardinal rule and now they were hunting me. If they were and they caught me, I would be stuck here forever.

  I grabbed the pommel of the saddle, set my foot into the stirrup, and tried to swing up, but between my sore and stiff muscles and Fearghus’s height, I couldn’t move my leg that fast and came back down, bouncing on my toe. My curse was lost in Balor’s booming bark as he bounded away. I pulled again, shoving off of the ground after one last bounce, and managed to get myself balanced in the stirrup to throw my leg over the saddle.

  “Balor!” I called over my shoulder as I tried to get Fearghus turned around in the right direction. Balor barked again and again, mixing with the echo of the horse’s gallop. Fearghus screamed, turning this way and that until I was dizzy with the cacophony and swirling trees.

  “Shayna!” Jacob’s voice cut through the din, startling me. I pulled on the reins and put my heels into Fearghus’s thighs. Reluctantly, fighting me the whole way, Fearghus turned toward Jacob’s voice and his horse. Balor ran alongside him now, nipping playfully at the horse.

  “Jacob?” I called out, shaking my head. Where had he come from? I had made sure no one saw me leave.

  “Shayna,” he breathed as he came alongside me. He reached out to put a hand on Fearghus’s bridle, as if he was afraid we would take off running.

  “Jacob, what are you doing?” I asked. “You said you didn’t want to come with me.”

  “I know,” he panted, trying to catch his breath as if he’d been the one galloping and not the horse.

  “You realize I’m leaving, right?” I inclined my head toward him.

  “Yes, but…” He paused to swallow, his nostrils flaring as he tried to slow his breathing. “You took my jacket.”

  “What?” I was confused for a moment until I remembered the jacket I had snatched just before I left, the jacket I was now wearing.

  “My jacket,” he repeated, giving me a pointed look as he glanced at his jacket.

  “Oh, right. I’m sorry; I didn’t realize it was yours.” I gathered the lapel in one hand, clutching it to my chest.

  “Yeah, I saw you filch it, but I thought you were just cold. I didn’t realize you were taking off with it.”

  “Did you seriously follow me all this way for a jacket?”

  Jacob opened his mouth, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. After a moment, he closed his mouth and glanced away from me, staring off downriver.

  “Jacob,” I said as gently as possible, “it’s all right, you know; you can come with me if you want to.”

  “What makes you think you can find the edge?” he asked, his voice harsher than I expected.

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. “I just can’t not try, you know?”

  He glanced away again. “The Hunt caught me. I doubt, even if we do find it, I’ll be allowed to leave.”

  “Maybe,” I said, nodding, placing my hand on his hand that still clung to Fearghus’s bridle. “But maybe you will. Do you really want to wander here for eternity wondering what would have happened?”

  “No,” he said, letting go of the bridle just to take my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “No, I don’t.” I squeezed his hand back before letting go. Fearghus took a few steps to put a little distance between him and the other horse.

  “So,” I said, “do you really want your jacket back?”

  Jacob grinned at me and said, “No, it looks better on you anyway.”

  ***

  We rode for hours and hours, sometimes galloping, sometimes at a brisk walk. We didn’t want to wear out the horses like Gwyn seemed to. With the moon never moving, it was hard to be sure just how long we’d ridden, but when my legs began to ache and the muscles in my back began to protest, I knew it was time to stop.

  Because neither of us knew what Gwyn did to make us shift locations in a heartbeat, going from one type of scenery to the next, we were still in the aged forest, the river rushing by alongside us. We agreed the camouflage of the trees was safer and used the river as a marker, just following it. We watered the horses and let them graze on the riverbanks while we set to making a fire.

  Jacob gathered tinder, dried twigs, and small branches while I set up a ring of stones. I pulled out the flint and dagger I had stolen once Jacob had the pyramid of wood all set. Holding the flint and dagger in front of me, I hesitated. I had never actually lit a fire like that and was suddenly very self-conscious with Jacob watching me, an expectant look on his face. My braid swung forward over my shoulder. Jacob reached out and brushed it back, away from my face and the flint.

  “Don’t want to catch it on fire,” he said with a grin. As he drew back his hand, his fingers grazed my neck lightly. A shiver ran through my body, but I told myself it was just a chill and struck the flint with the dagger. The sparks drew Jacob’s attention away from me. The sparks landed on the wood only to wink out of existence almost immediately.

  “Damn it,” I whispered, t
rying again. Each time the spark ignited but never caught fire.

  “Here,” Jacob said, holding his hands out for the tools. “Let me show you.” I passed him the flint and the dagger, a pang of regret flitting through me that I couldn’t figure it out on my own. If I was alone, I would have eventually figured it out because I wouldn’t have stopped until I did, but I had help with me, so in the interest of saving energy, I took it.

  Jacob leaned closer to the wood than I had, putting the flint close to the bundle of tinder under the pyramid of branches before he scraped the dagger across it. Sparks flamed bright, jumping and landing on the soft tinder, making it smolder and curl in bright orange. Jacob leaned back and began to blow on it in slow, even breaths until it burst into flame. When the twigs took flame and then the branches, we had a proper fire. For one heart-stopping moment, I thought about how easy this would have been if Steven had been with us. I closed my eyes against the sudden sting of tears and pushed that thought out of my mind.

  “Everything all right?” Jacob asked, the triumph on his face fading away at the sight of my pain.

  “Yeah,” I said, waving his concern away with one hand as I scrubbed at my eyes with the other. “Just missing someone.” Jacob watched me for a moment, but I refused to meet his stare. I didn’t want to talk about it, and he wasn’t going to make me.

  I walked over to Fearghus and opened the saddle bag with the food, pulling out some of the salted meat and a potato (or at least what I hoped was a potato) and a purple onion. Jacob had two tankards and a pot for cooking since he hadn’t unpacked his saddle bags before he’d run after me. We boiled river water with some mint he found, and I chopped up the food. Soon we had a fragrant hash and comforting mint tea. Within minutes, my shoulders relaxed, the knots loosening under the comfort of a warm fire and food. And though I could feel his prying eyes on me, wanting to know what I was thinking, having another person around was nice.