Craft

by Lynnie Purcell

  “You think so?” Ellie asked.

  “Of course,” Neveah said.

  Neveah leaned forward, her expression sincere. Ellie took a step back in the trench.

  “The Coopers’ crafting ain’t nothing like ours,” Neveah continued. “They got the darkest craft known to man. They like the boogeyman with the way they appear all sudden-like. Can creep up and kill you before you take your next breath. You’re lucky they didn't kill you where you stood. You’re lucky I was there.”

  Ellie was inclined to believe Neveah after seeing the lights come out of nowhere. It was as if one second they had not been there and the next they had appeared out of nothing. Ellie had never seen or heard of any kind of craft where someone could just appear out of nowhere. All of her kin had to walk or drive if they wanted to get to a place. The unknown element of the Coopers’ strange craft and her fear made her assume the talent more powerful than it was in actuality.

  The thought of them appearing without warning to attack her made her paranoid. Her skin prickled with the feeling of being watched. The dark closed in on her. Were they waiting for her right now? Would she be safe to go back to her shack? When would the next attack come? Ellie shivered at the unanswered questions. She realized how stupid her call had been. She should have fetched someone instead of calling out.

  Ellie looked away from Neveah, to get a handle on her fear. That was when she noticed Careen. She was trying hard not to ruin Neveah’s teasing, but her expression gave away the truth. A mischievous smile dominated her round face. Her eyes were full of light at the teasing. Ellie saw the expression and knew Neveah was not as sincere as her expression led Ellie to believe. Her sisters were having fun at her expense. Her fear turned to irritation.

  “That's not funny, Neveah!” Ellie said.

  Neveah shrugged one shoulder. She was unaffected by Ellie’s discovery of the truth. “Sure it is,” Neveah said. Neveah’s warning had not changed, however. She set aside her teasing and looked at Ellie seriously. “Still, you should have come got me, instead of calling out like you did. The Coopers would have killed you, if their aim was a little better. Best you don’t do it again.”

  Ellie was surprised at her sister’s tone. Neveah almost sounded concerned. Uncertain if her sister was still teasing her, she looked out over the darkness again. Her eyes lingered on the places where the lights were brightest. The calls from her family were difficult to listen to without trying to do something.

  “Did they hurt anybody?” Ellie asked.

  “Nothing we can’t handle,” Neveah said. “Now, go on, get. The adults got work to do before the night’s done.”

  Ellie scowled at Neveah. Neveah smirked at the expression on Ellie’s face, daring Ellie to argue. Ellie knew better. She clamped her mouth shut. Without another word, Neveah and Careen moved across the road to help the Bumbalows closest to them. Ellie obediently turned away to go to her shack. There was nothing she could do to help. The others would tell on her if she tried to help. After the fear of the attack, and her guilt at doing nothing, Ellie was not eager to face a beating from Neveah.

  Ellie’s eyes searched the dark around her house for Coopers as she turned. She knew Neveah had been teasing her, but she also feared the Coopers more than it was logical.

  As she turned, she noticed a dark shape in the trench. Ellie took a step closer, letting the light of the others craft give her details. The shape was a person on the ground. She did not remember anyone on her side crawling in there, but she had been too overwhelmed to notice much. She peeked over the edge of the trench at her family to be sure she wasn't being watched. Everyone had a task. No one had noticed the person yet.

  A smile crept over Ellie’s face. She could help the person without Neveah ever knowing the truth. Ellie could play her part and help her kin. No one beyond Ellie would ever know the difference.

  Ellie double and triple checked to be sure Neveah and Careen were distracted by the others. Neveah was working healing craft on an aunt. Careen was next to a cousin and doing the same. Their eyes were closed as they focused on their work. Ellie could feel their familiar craft reach across the space. It bound Ellie to the nature of their task. They would be at it for a while.

  Satisfied, Ellie hurried over to the prone figure. All she could tell from the amber and red lights radiating in the night was that the dark figure in the trench was male and was lying face down in the dirt.

  Ellie turned him over, expecting to see a familiar face, perhaps a cousin, or even some of her extended family. What she saw was anything but familiar. She stood again and pressed her back against the dirt of the trench. Her fear rocked her body. She let out a low gasp of shock. He was not a Bumbalow or anyone the Bumbalows had married. If he was not a Bumbalow, he was a Cooper. It was that simple. The world only consisted of two sides: her and them.

  Ellie almost called out to Neveah. Neveah would know what to do with the man. She would take care of him before he could kill them all. Ellie stopped herself just shy of the call. A feeling in her gut explained to her that she would regret the moment forever if she did. It was a moment she could not have explained to anyone if she had tried.

  Ellie hated the Coopers, but she could not stop the feelings in her chest as she looked at the man. The feelings told her she had met a kindred spirit. He had crawled into the trench as well. He had shared her hiding place through the chaos. He had been as afraid as she had been.

  The pause gave her time to consider the truth of what would happen to the man if she called out. Ellie knew what her family would do to him. It was what the Coopers would have done had a Bumbalow fallen on their property. They would make him pay for the attack, and it would have been her call that sealed his fate. She could not do it. There had to be another way. The Coopers were murderers, but she was not. She wanted to be better than them.

  She was also curious. She had never met another person who could not claim some blood or marriage relationship to her family. The man was different, unique. Ellie had never met someone so foreign. Whatever evil he was guilty of in his life, he signaled an adventure to her, however brief. He offered her the excitement of one of her stories. The heroes in her books always faced down mortal enemies and life choices. She always faced her chores. The difference was profound. It was profound enough for her to betray one of the Bumbalow’s oldest rules: Never help a Cooper; they’ll just stab you in the back if you do. She was willing to take the chance. She was willing to prove she was not afraid to seek out an adventure.

  Ellie peeked over the edge of the trench. Neveah had not moved. Her eyes remained closed and her hand outstretched as she worked her healing craft. Neveah would notice little beyond the healing she was committed to finishing. Ellie moved back to the man and tried to figure out how to hide him from the others. Knowing that the others did not feel craft the same way she felt it, she decided to take a risk.

  Ellie waved her hand and cloaked the man in darkness. His body disappeared into the night. She waved another hand to make him rise off the ground. Her craft complete, she climbed out of the trench with him in tow. No one looked at her or the strange darkness trailing after her.

  Ellie hurried through the tall grass around the edge of her property. She was careful to avoid the house, where those who were not helping to heal the others were milling around in a confused dazed. Ellie heard them talking about the attack and trying to figure out what had happened. She knew their excitement would keep them from peering off into the dark long enough to notice the grass moving.

  Even though she knew they were safely distracted, the adrenaline surged like wildfire in her veins. It made every step an adventure all on its own. She was overwhelmed with relief when she reached her shack. Even then, her heart raced at the idea of what she was doing. She could not account for the future; she had no way of knowing what would happen next in her journey. She just knew she was doing something wildly out of character. She had never done something so bold in her life.

  Inside her shack
, and protected from the scrutiny of her family, she set the man on her couch and released the darkness from around him. He did not try to get up or move to attack her. His eyes remained closed, his face peaceful. His hand hung over the edge of the sofa without moving to craft against her. He was unconscious.

  Ellie hovered near the door, terrified and impressed with herself in the same moment. She was certain he was going to wake up at any second and kill her. She was not sure she had the proper craft to defend herself. The fight had proved to her how little she had focused on dark craft. Her experiments had always focused on creating and manipulating her environment, never on hurting. The oversight seemed grave now that she had witnessed a real attack.

  The darkness gone, Ellie leaned in to look at him from her place near the door. She did not move closer to him. She was not ready to take that step without absolute certainty he was not pretending to be unconscious. She noticed a wound in his side and blood running down from the back of his head. He was definitely injured. The wound at his head explained why he was unconscious. He needed healing craft. Ellie had never healed someone before but she thought she understood the basics. She had seen it enough times to know. She had a clear picture in her mind of what she had to do. She just needed to do it.

  She immediately found the healing harder than she had thought it would be. It took more focus and concentration than she had ever spent on craft before. She had to keep her thoughts locked in place. The minute she lost track of what she was doing, the craft fell apart. It took her an hour just to get the bleeding on his side to stop.

  By the end of that hour, she was mentally drained and uncertain she could continue. She had not even started on the wound at his head. She sat down on the floor, as far from the man as possible, and took a moment to gather her strength. Her moment did not last long.

  “Ellie! Get in here and clean up this mess!” Neveah called through her long-distance shout.

  Ellie sighed at the call and stood automatically. She eyed the man who, on closer inspection, was not as old as she had thought, and decided he would live long enough for her to clean whatever mess Neveah was talking about.

  Neveah was waiting for her at the edge of the tall grass separating the shack from the house. Neveah’s eyes were bright with her sustained happiness of the fight she had helped win. It was the kind of happiness that thrived in violence. Though happy, she was still abrupt with Ellie when she stepped out from behind the tall grass. There was no kindness for her sister in her eyes. Nothing had changed between them with the fight. To Neveah, it was just another part of the ongoing struggle.

  Everything had changed for Ellie. For the first time in her life, Ellie was daring to disobey Neveah. She fidgeted with the truth of her rebellion on her mind. She was nervous Neveah would find out the truth. Neveah gestured behind her, toward the house.

  “Clean this mess before morning. Grandma and Grandpa Bumbalow are coming to visit before Sunday church. You know how they feel about messes.”

  “It’s past midnight!” Ellie said. “And I’ve been cleaning all day…”

  “You best get started, then,” Neveah said. “They’ll be here at nine.”

  Ellie looked at the mess of plates, empty bottles and cans, and leftover food her family had left around her house and yard. It was a mess of monumental proportions. Her craft had not been able to keep up with their messiness. She knew she would have to pick it all up by hand. Her exhaustion was overwhelming, but she knew if she did not clean it all up as quickly as she could, her punishment would go beyond Neveah.

  Grandma and Grandpa Bumbalow were old-school crafters who believed the best cure for disobeying was a healthy beating. Ellie had been through one, and it was enough never to want to go through it again. She still had the scars on her back as proof of the memory. She knew Neveah would be happy to blame the mess on her, to complain to the grandparents that Ellie was not doing her part to help the family. The grandparents would believe Neveah. They always did.

  Grumbling under her breath, Ellie went inside to get a garbage bag from under the sink. Neveah followed her inside. Her smirk was wicked as she passed Ellie in the kitchen on her way upstairs.

  It took Ellie the rest of the early morning to pick up the garbage and return the house to normal. By dawn, she was trembling from exhaustion, but she was happy to be finished with her work. It meant she could go back to the shack, rest a moment, and finish her healing craft. It was possible she could finish her craft before the grandparents came over and demanded she visit with them. It also meant she could continue doing something forbidden, terrifying and exhilarating. It was rebellion against Neveah, even if Neveah never found out about it.

  When Ellie got back to the shack, the man was no longer on the sofa. He was on the floor, near the door. His hand clutched at his recently healed side. The back of his head was still covered in blood.

  Ellie thought she understood how he had gotten there. He had tried to escape but had fallen back into unconsciousness before he could get out. Some of her books had fallen with his attempt to escape. A few had fallen on top him. Her coffee table was on its side. She waved a hand at the books and the table. The books flew off him and stacked in the corner again as the table righted itself. She waved another hand to light the candles. A final quick wave of her hand put him back on the sofa.

  He moaned when she set him down, and his eyes opened briefly. His eyes were a warm brown, different from the greens and blues of her family. The difference was another surprise for Ellie. His eyes focused on her face. She saw determination and hate clearly.

  “They…will…come…for me,” he told her.

  He passed out again.

  Ellie had frozen at his words. She stayed frozen a moment after he closed his eyes, to make sure it was not a trick to draw her closer. He did not move; his breathing became regular and fixed. She could not feel any pull of craft in the air. He was asleep again.

  Reasonably certain he was not about to attack her, she crept over to the sofa. She poked him once, to make sure he was not faking, and jumped away. He snorted through his sleep, but he did not move. She sat down on the floor and hesitantly raised her hand.

  Despite the fear his words had caused, she was more committed to healing him now than when she had found him. His words were proof that she needed to heal him as quickly as she could and send him on his way before things got complicated. Her fear fueling her, it did not take her long to find the needed concentration to heal him.

  Though her body screamed for sleep, and a headache was pounding against her senses, she worked on him until her strength was completely gone. By then, he was healed. His injuries were gone as if they had never happened. He remained unconscious, however, his face peaceful in his sleep. Ellie could not help but notice his features as he slept. His nose was round and cute, his jaw angular. He had soft-looking lips and a clear complexion. He was handsome, despite being a Cooper. The connection she felt to him was stronger with the peacefulness of the moment. She shook away the feeling, knowing it was wrong to think such a thing about a Cooper.

  Her work done, she moved back to the door, which felt safer. Worried he could wake up at any moment, she tried to fight the sleep, but her exhaustion was too complete. Despite her best efforts, and her fear he would kill her if she fell asleep, her eyes slowly slid shut. Sleep took her over. Her dreams were full of the fight she had witnessed. The violence circled her subconscious. In her dreams, she was not afraid to face the Coopers. She was brave, as brave as the rest of her family.

  Ellie jerked awake when she heard Neveah’s call. She was not certain if it had been hours or moments since she had fallen asleep. The candles had gone out while she slept. The shack was completely dark. The darkness scared her. Where was the man she had healed? She lit the candles again with a wave of her hand and saw the man was still asleep on the sofa. She took a deep breath, counting herself lucky that he had not woken up in her moment of weakness. She heard Neveah call again and jumped to her feet in pa
nic. Neveah never had to call twice.

  Ellie rushed out of the shack and hurried to the house. Careen was waiting for Ellie on the lawn. Careen’s face was tight with her fear. Even Careen did not like Ellie to cross the grandparents. Careen had faced her own beatings and did not wish it on anyone, even Ellie.

  “The grandparents are here,” Careen whispered. “Where you been?”

  “I feel asleep reading,” Ellie lied. “Didn’t hear the call.”

  “Never mind that.”

  Careen dismissed Ellie’s excuse with a wave of her hand. Careen looked Ellie over carefully. Ellie had the same clothes on from yesterday. Her dress was torn, and dirt decorated the fabric from Neveah’s push and Ellie’s time cowering in the dirt. Ellie’s sweat made the dirt look caked on to her face. The only part of her that stood out from the sweat and dirt were her bright eyes.

  “You look a mess. No time for a proper cleaning the slow way,” Careen added.

  Careen waved her hand at Ellie, and Ellie was instantly clean and wearing a Sunday dress. “Don’t back-sass,” Careen warned quietly.

  Ellie nodded, not needing the warning. She never back-sassed the grandparents. It was healthier that way. Careen opened the screen-door to the kitchen and gestured Ellie inside first. Ellie took a deep breath to prepare for the coming moments, then made a path through the kitchen.

  Neveah was in the living room talking with Grandma and Grandpa Bumbalow. She was wearing a new dress, and her hair was brushed to perfection. She was on her best behavior as she talked with them. Her manners were impeccable, her language far from the crass words Ellie was used to her using. She was entirely polite and civilized, just the way Grandma and Grandpa expected all of the Bumbalows to be. When Neveah saw Ellie, she frowned.