Spirit

by Shauna Granger

  I wished I still had my ability to seek out a nearby entity to pinpoint their location, so I could know if I ran right or left which way would save me or send me right into their path. I tried to watch Balor for a clue, but his head was so close to the ground, I couldn’t tell which way he was looking. He had gone unnaturally still, so much so that I wondered if he’d managed to stop his heartbeat.

  Closing my eyes, I strained my ears to try to determine which direction the intruder was coming from, but no matter how hard I listened, how quiet I was, I just couldn’t tell. When I opened my eyes again, I saw the faintest twitch of Balor’s nose before he sprung from the ground and was airborne.

  I spun away from the tree, my arms extended and the crossbow raised. Balor crashed into the approaching person, slamming him into the ground and rolling with him in a blur of white fur and snapping teeth. There was a surprised yell just before Balor struck, but hitting the ground stole what breath the stranger had, silencing him.

  When they finally stopped tumbling, Balor was on top, his massive paws pinning the man to the ground, his teeth bared and less than an inch from his face. Strings of saliva threatened to drop on his face.

  I ran forward, skidding to a halt beside Balor, my crossbow pointed at his face, the arrow cocked and ready to fly. Only my surprise kept my finger from pulling the trigger.

  “Gwyn?” I demanded, staring wide-eyed at the pinned elf. He glared up at me. His black eyes, if it was possible, were darker and hard like onyx, and his pale lips were pressed into a hard line. His ankle-length silver hair was a tangled mess under his head, scattered with dirt and fallen leaves.

  “Bloody dog,” Gwyn swore. “Balor, off, now!” Balor growled down at him, his red eyes narrowing to slits.

  “Balor,” I said, “it’s okay, back off.” He whined, flicking his eyes toward me, but when I nodded, he leapt off of the fallen elf. Gwyn gasped in pain as four paws pushed against him for leverage.

  I stepped back as Gwyn got to his feet, dusting off his pants. He shook out his hair, the long, slivery strands untangling magically. I adjusted my grip on my weapon, lowering it so it wasn’t pointing directly at him, but I wasn’t ready to set it down. I was more than a little confused about his sudden presence and the fact he was alone. The urge to look over my shoulder for the blood thirsty Redcaps and pointy teeth goblins kept niggling at me, but I managed to keep my eyes on the tall elf.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, proud to hear how calm my voice sounded, despite how terrified I was only moments ago. Balor padded over to me, circling around behind me before halting at my side, sitting on his haunches. I placed my empty hand on his head, petting his fur in thanks. Gwyn didn’t answer me right away; in fact, he didn’t even look at me when I spoke. Instead, he continued to fuss with his clothing, making sure his pants were dirt free and his boots were straight and tugged in place over his knees. When he was satisfied a smudge of dirt was out of his grey silk shirtsleeve, he turned his eyes on me.

  Looking into his black eyes was creepy enough, not having seen their like since I faced Noufaro the soul hungry water nymph, but the disdain he leveled on me made my stomach churn. What the hell was his problem?

  “So happy to see you too, Chuckles,” I said, arching a brow at him. He lowered his eyes to my hand and the crossbow, then quickly looked back into my face. I pursed my lips as I glanced between my weapon and his face as well, considering how much I trusted him. I settled for crossing my arms, keeping it gripped in my hand but tucking it under an arm.

  “Happy?” I asked, but by the look on his face, I could tell he wasn’t. Well, that was just too damn bad; I wouldn’t put the thing down. When he still didn’t speak, I refused to say anything. So far I’d been the only one talking, and he could either talk to me or let this get awkward. Whatever he wanted was fine by me.

  “You stole from me,” he finally said, surprising me more than his sudden appearance had.

  “Excuse me?” I demanded, my face screwing up into a mask of confusion.

  “When you left,” he said, “you stole from me.”

  “It was only a little food,” I argued. “I thought that was for everyone. I didn’t take that much.”

  “Not the food,” he said coolly, bringing his hands in front of him, lacing his long fingers together. “Though, I suppose that is something else you stole.”

  “What then?”

  “You stole one of my horses and my dog.”

  “I did not!” I exclaimed, trying and failing to keep from looking at either Balor or Fearghus.

  “I can see them, you know,” he said, tilting his head to the side slightly.

  I glared up at him, uncrossing my arms to wave at Fearghus as I said, “Fine, I took the horse; you’re right. But I did not take Balor.”

  “He is sitting right beside you,” Gwyn said, speaking slowly as if I had a mental deficiency.

  “I know that,” I said, rolling my eyes, barely keeping myself from throwing my hands up in the air. “But I didn’t take him; he followed me when I left.” Gwyn stared at me for so long I nearly started to squirm. I managed to square my shoulders and glare back, refusing to be cowed. I told him the truth and had nothing to feel awkward about.

  “And so what if I did take Fearghus?” I said, unable to keep myself from breaking the silence. “No one was riding him. You have, like, six horses without riders; what’s the difference?”

  “Because they will have riders,” he said. I took a moment to realize what he meant, but when I did, I felt kind of stupid for not thinking about it.

  “I didn’t realize,” I said, stopping when Gwyn made a rude noise, interrupting me.

  “Humans rarely do,” he said, arching one brow at me before turning and walking over to Fearghus. Balor growled for me, his hackles rising at the insult. I was getting pretty sick and tired of being called “human” as if it was some sort of disease or curse.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded, realizing he was reaching for Fearghus’s reins to get him turned around.

  “I am taking my horse back,” he replied without looking at me.

  “No, you can’t,” I said, rushing over, trying to snatch the reins away from him, but both Gwyn and Fearghus were much taller than me, and it wasn’t exactly difficult for him to keep the reins out of my reach.

  He held the reins up, making me swipe at air. “I can and I will. You should count yourself blessed that all I am doing is taking the animals back. You stole from the Slaugh; I could do much, much worse. You wouldn’t like to know what has happened to your sweet Jacob.” Rather than yell, he dropped his voice until he spoke almost in a whisper, sending a chill down my back. I lifted my chin, trying to look unaffected by his threat.

  “Look, I’m sorry, but you can’t just leave me out here alone,” I said, dropping my hand, keeping the crossbow gripped in the other. I thought about threatening him with it, but I didn’t think that would be the smartest thing I could do. “I don’t understand why you’re suddenly so angry! You’re the one who told me how to get out of here; did you really expect me to stick around? Did you really think I wasn’t going to try to leave?” Gwyn didn’t answer me; he just checked the saddle and tugged on his gloves. Fearghus began to dance in place, strangely nervous. Gwyn jumped into the saddle, floating in the air weightlessly.

  “Balor,” Gwyn called once he was saddled on Fearghus’s back. “Balor! To me!”

  I turned to look at Balor, who hadn’t moved. A knot loosened in my chest when Balor lowered his body to lie on the ground, flattening his red ears against his head and growling low.

  “I don’t think he wants to go with you,” I said, trying to keep the snide tone out of my voice, though I’m not sure how successful I was.

  “Don’t you dare try to come back, do you understand me?” Gwyn said as he reeled Fearghus around to face down river. As if realizing what Gwyn planned, Fearghus whinnied and bucked, trying to unseat Gwyn. Unfortunately, Gwyn was a natural in the saddle, moving eas
ily to keep his balance.

  “I wasn’t planning on it, thanks,” I shot back. I watched Fearghus, catching his eye after he shook his head, trying to rip the reins out of Gwyn’s grasp. I don’t think I had ever seen a horse look sad before, but just then I knew exactly what it looked like.

  “Enough,” Gwyn snapped, whipping Fearghus’s hindquarter with the ends of the reins, making him jump in surprise.

  “Stop!” I yelled, reaching out to punch Gwyn in the thigh before I could think about what I was doing. “He doesn’t want to go with you either, damn it!” The next few seconds seemed to stretch into forever. Fearghus screamed, rearing up to kick his front hooves in the air. Gwyn’s fingers curled into a fist as he drew his hand back. Balor barked somewhere behind me as he bounded toward me, but he was far too late. As Fearghus landed on all four hooves again, Gwyn let his hand fly.

  Gwyn’s fist slammed into my cheek before I could duck. The world spun as I went reeling in a confused tumble. My cheek was on fire as the skin split open and warm blood trickled down, dripping from my jaw. I landed on the ground in a puff of dust, coughing and blinking back the surprised tears. I rolled over in time to see Balor’s teeth clamp around Gwyn’s calf, making him yell. He punched Balor’s muzzle, making him release his hold. Gwyn put his heels to Fearghus and was gone in the next moment as he shifted his surroundings and left the river, forest, and us behind.

  Chapter 16

  The river water was shockingly cold on my face. I hissed at the sting, squeezing my eyes shut and gritting my teeth against the string of curses just itching to be let out. Gritting my teeth made the muscles of my jaw and cheeks jump, sending a sharp pain right into my brain.

  “Bad idea,” I whispered, working my jaw apart, trying to relax it. Balor sat next to me, his ears pin straight as he turned his head back and forth, watching all directions.

  “I don’t think he’s coming back, Balor.” I held the cuff of my sleeve against my cheek to stop the bleeding. Sitting back on my heels, I reached out with my other hand to touch the top of his head. Balor flinched at my light touch. Whipping his head to face me, I saw the red of his eyes was nearly black.

  “It’s okay,” I said gently, lifting my hand again and making sure he saw me moving it toward him before I petted his head. “Damn, dirty elf,” I muttered. I pulled my hand away from my face and looked at the red stain on the grey fabric, the cold air stinging my swollen skin. I touched the cut with my fingers. They came away with only a little bit of blood.

  Getting to my feet, I walked over to retrieve the crossbow I had thrown when Gwyn hit me. Balor was hot on my heels, afraid to let me out of his sight. The dart-like arrow had come out of the crossbow and landed a few feet away, but it was, thankfully, undamaged. The looking glass was exactly where I left it, hidden in the shadow of the tree roots. I was so grateful Gwyn hadn’t noticed it; something told me he would’ve either taken it or tried to destroy it. I was so happy it hadn’t been in Fearghus’s saddle bag.

  I held the looking glass up in front of my face. Seeing myself in the black glass was difficult, but I could tell my left cheek was swollen. The cut was a grotesque gash of red, and my left eye was starting to show signs of turning black. If I ever set eyes on that black-eyed elf again, I would pay him back in kind. Heaven help him if I couldn’t reach his face and I had to get creative with my payback.

  I tucked the looking glass in my belt at the small of my back, situating it until it was comfortable. I would’ve liked to tuck the crossbow away too, but there was no way to make that comfortable. Now that I was on foot, I felt much more vulnerable, so I felt better having it in my hand, ready to use. I was just lucky I still had the quiver hanging from my belt and that only a couple of the arrows that had fallen were crushed under Fearghus’s panicked hooves.

  “Well,” I said to Balor, ever at my side, “I guess that’s everything. We might as well be on our way.” I didn’t think Gwyn would be back, but I didn’t want to take any chances. After that commotion, I didn’t want to hang out any longer in case we’d attracted any beasties’ attention.

  We moved away from the river, taking to the trees for some cover now that we didn’t have to account for Fearghus’s massive size. Hiding between the trees and shadows was much easier, which gave me a small measure of relief now that I was on foot. After just a couple of hours, my feet throbbed in my boots and my back ached. I cursed Gwyn’s name. Poor Balor kept having to double back to find me; his natural stride and speed were three times that of mine, so he kept leaving me behind unintentionally. I seriously considered climbing onto Balor’s back.

  At one point I could hear something nearby, snuffling the ground, crunching over twigs as it moved. Despite my aching muscles, I was up in a tree faster than I thought possible, hiding among the leaves and crisscrossing branches. Balor stood at the base of the tree, his teeth bared, ready for attack. When two of the chicken-like creatures broke through the brush, Balor let out a bark and pounced on one of them, crushing it under his paws before snapping the neck with his jaw. The other one, sadly, got away, but I didn’t care. We finally had food.

  Cleaning the animal was one of the most horrific things I’d ever done, and that included plunging my anthame into that nymph’s chest. More than once I had to stop and walk away from the dead animal and wash my hands in the river to get my stomach under control. I was actually grateful that my stomach was empty while I did that; I would’ve probably lost anything in it.

  Balor helped me find kindling and branches to build a fire, but when it came time to actually light the fire, I sat there staring at the pile of wood. I had nothing to light it with since my flint was still in my stolen saddlebag. I wished I could call on my inner fire, like I had taught Steven, in this land without magic.

  “Stupid jackasses,” I muttered, not sure if I was cursing Jacob or Gwyn or both just then. “Took my mount, took my knife, took my flint,” I grumbled. If I had the knife, I could’ve tried to strike it against a rock to make sparks. When I glanced at my crossbow on the ground at my side, I had a spark of inspiration. It took more tries than I care to admit, but I managed to cause a spark from scraping an arrowhead against a rock, finally getting the fire going.

  My hands shook and I was on the verge of tears as I skewered the bird on a longer branch and braced it over the fire to roast. Balor moved closer to my side and licked my uninjured cheek. I gave him a watery smile before wrapping my arms around his furry shoulders and resting my head against him. We watched our dinner cook. Nothing in either world ever smelled or tasted as good as that burnt bird. I knew saving some for later would be smart, but we were so damn hungry and tired, we cleaned the whole thing of meat before I realized we were done.

  I let Balor lick the fat off my fingers before I washed them in the river again. I splashed some water on my face to clean my wound again too. It didn’t hurt quite as much this time, thankfully. I watched Balor lay down near the fire, cleaning his front paw. The light of the flames turned his white fur a muted orange.

  “Balor,” I said, getting his attention. “I don’t know how much you can understand me, and maybe right now I look like a crazy person talking to a dog, but I want to tell you something.” Balor stopped the assault on his paw and lifted his head to look at me, his ears flicking forward. I felt a little silly, but he’d done so much to help me that the idea I was probably going to abandon him gnawed at me.

  “You know how I’m always looking into this thing?” I asked as I held up the looking glass, but he made no motion to indicate if he understood me or not. “Well, I’m checking on my home.” At the word “home,” Balor tilted his head to the side. “And my friends are trying to figure out a way to bring me back, to make me go home. So that means I’ll be leaving here and probably leaving you behind.”

  Balor continued to stare, giving me no indication whether or not he knew what I was saying. But I pressed on. “I feel horrible about it. You’ve stuck with me and here I am about to ditch you. I’m so sorry; I
want you to know that.” My voice caught in my throat as tears sprung to my eyes. Balor got to his feet and walked over to me. He dipped his head and nudged my face with his cold nose, whining softly.

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I said, wiping the tears from my face, flinching as I touched my swollen cheek. “If I can figure out a way to take you with me, or bring you to my side once I’m there, I promise I will, if you want me to.” Balor licked my cheek, and I wrapped my arms around his thick neck, hugging him tightly as I cried into his fur.

  ***

  I woke later, curled around Balor like he was some over-sized stuffed animal. White fur clung to the dried tear tracks on my cheek, tickling my nose when I sat up. Wiping off my face, I tried to loosen the knots that had formed between my shoulder blades. I could still feel the two sore spots where my wings had been ripped away, but the pain was a mere echo of what it had been.

  Carefully pulling my body away from the sleeping dog, I scooted a few feet away. The fire had died down to glowing, orange embers. I pulled the looking glass from my belt. Balor huffed in his sleep, his large paws twitching as he dreamed of chasing some tiny animal.

  I rolled my shoulders again and then focused my attention on the looking glass, holding the image of Jodi and Steven in the front of my mind, wanting to see what progress they had made on the invocation spell. When the black glass shifted to fog and then cleared, I watched as Jodi and Steven walked through a dark clearing. It was unfamiliar to me, but it didn’t look like a natural clearing from this angle. They were both bundled up against the cold night. I guessed at this point it was February, but I couldn’t be totally sure. Steven was wearing a slim cut, black peacoat, dark washed jeans, and a black knit hat with a thin bill. Jodi was dressed almost identically, though her coat was charcoal and she had a dark purple scarf wound about her neck, coming up around her jaw. Her yellow blond hair was the only bright spot between them.