Turning left, toward the greenery that covered the end of the cul-de-sac, I located the trailhead that led into the park. Motioning for Llew to follow me, I plunged into the shrubbery, onto the thickly wooded path.
UnderLake Park was a dark, shadowed tangle of vegetation that sprawled almost six hundred acres. The land had originally housed a monastery and an estate called Castle Hall, where a series of brutal murders took place. While the bodies were never found, the spirits remained, and even I was cautious in that area of the park.
Amidst old, towering trees—fir and cedar, for the most part—the park was a labyrinth of trails. There were drivable roads, and most people stuck to their cars. But since UnderLake Park was in a prime location, adjacent to so many homes, a number of brave souls weathered the darkness and the shadows to use it for jogging and even horseback riding.
The park was littered with copses of birch, their white trunks stark against the array of evergreens and conifers. Like almost all wooded areas in western Washington, UnderLake was rife with ravines. They plunged steeply to the bottom, decked out in a thick wash of debris from autumn. Sodden leaves and branches, ankle deep in some areas, carpeted the ground, and waist-high ferns spread out, their fronds growing five to six feet long in places.
Fallen trees covered the land, the nurse logs thick with moss and mushrooms, with matted needles from the towering trees overhead. During the autumn and spring, the banana slugs showed up everywhere, and the massive gastropods slowly oozed their way along the forest floor, eating the plants and leaving trails of slime in their wake.
As we entered the park, the snow seemed to deepen—as it always does in the forest—and we slogged our way through the pristine blanket, breaking a trail as we went. It was thirty-three degrees and still snowing. Everywhere, the snow sparkled in the early afternoon light, glinting under the reflected light from the cloud cover. The sounds of the forest were muffled beneath the layers of frozen flakes, and it felt like we had the park entirely to ourselves.
“It’s so beautiful,” Llew said. “It’s like a wonderland. I miss living in snow country. I moved out here from Maine, you know, to be with Jordan.” Llew had been born in Massachusetts, to one of the older magic-born families. He had moved to Maine in the 1970s, and out to Seattle about six years ago when he and Jordan met online and immediately connected. They had gotten married the moment Llew’s plane landed.
“That’s right. I forgot.” I paused, my breath visible in front of my face. My jacket was keeping me warm enough, at least on my chest, back, and arms, but the chill in the air was more bracing than I had expected. I glanced around. “The park looks so different with snow. It’s more treacherous, you know. The glittering surface belies the energy that lives here.”
“I’ve always been cautious around this area. Jordan won’t come here. He says it sets him on edge too much.”
“And well it should. He’s a shifter. Shifters sense danger in a different way than you or I do. He’s right, though, because a lot of things happen here. I thrive on the energy. And given I’m Ante-Fae, few things will attack me. At least, few things that live in the park.”
We had been walking about twenty minutes when I spotted a side trail. “Let’s see where that goes. We won’t go far. I don’t want to get lost out here in the cold.”
Llew nodded. “You have the walking stick. Lead the way.”
I plunged off to the left, making sure that it was, indeed, an actual trail. Within a few minutes, I realized we were headed into the heart of the park, descending into a ravine. I paused, wondering if we should turn back.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you notice? We’re headed downhill. The trip back up the slope could be tiring. Do you want to turn around before it gets too steep?” I glanced over my shoulder at the trail behind us.
“Maybe—wait, what’s that?” Llew pointed toward a spot at the bottom of the ravine. There was something sparkling below. From here, it looked like a sequined coat spread atop the snow. “Is that a person? Are they hurt?”
I squinted. I had good eyesight, but the brightness of the snow and the flurry of flakes still falling around us made it impossible to be certain what we were seeing.
“I don’t know, but it could be. It looks about the size of a child.”
Concerned, wondering if some kid had gotten in trouble, I began to make my way down the trail, the snow making the descent fraught with slick spots. More than once, an icy patch sent me sliding onto my ass. Llew followed me, having a harder time than I did, given his tall, lanky frame gave him a higher center of balance.
All the while, the flakes around us began to come down harder, swirling in a mist that rose from between the trees. I steadied myself using my walking stick, and turned sideways as the going grew steeper, bracing my feet into the side of the ravine as I went. The light was beginning to fade as the afternoon sped away. The last thing we needed was to be caught here after dusk. Even though we were in January and the days were starting to grow longer, it grew dark in the wooded park early.
As we neared the bottom of the ravine, my concern continued to grow. The silent figure hadn’t moved, hadn’t responded in any way to our calls. I prayed that the person, whoever it was, would still be alive when we reached them. I didn’t sense any ghosts here, but the magic of the forest was everywhere, thick and syrupy, like crystallized honey slowly creeping out of the jar.
We finally reached the bottom of the ravine. A narrow creek, now iced over, carved its channel through the forest floor, a few yards away from where we stood. The ravine went on for some ways to the left, but to the right, it sloped upward again, where the stream gushed out of the base of the hill.
I turned to look for the jacketed form, but there was nothing there.
“What the hell? Llew, did you see whoever it was get up and leave?”
He stared at the empty spot, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t. They couldn’t have just stood and walked away without us noticing. No way.”
I edged forward, my head cocked to the side as I listened. There was a slow, sucking sound coming from the midst of a thicket of huckleberry bushes, beneath a massive fir tree.
“There—over there. I hear something moving.” I plunged into the thicket without thinking. Or rather, I was thinking that maybe if it had been a child who was hurt, they were trying to hide, afraid we were dangerous.
“Raven—stop!” Llew’s call echoed behind me, but I was too busy looking for the figure among the shadow of the trees. I was so focused on the forest floor that I didn’t see or hear anything until it was too late.
“Fuck!” I let out a shriek as something reached out and grabbed me. Glancing down, I saw a bristled tentacle had wound around my wrist, digging in with massive barbs. The tentacle reached out from behind one of the bushes. Whatever it was, it had an iron grip and I couldn’t pull free.
“Llew!” The tentacle had hold of my left wrist, and I quickly bent to pull Venom, my short dagger, out of her boot sheath. I aimed for the fleshy arm and slashed awkwardly, reaching across my body to manage it. Venom’s edge was razor sharp—I always kept her sharpened—but she bounced off at my first attempt.
Llew came charging through the brush, stopping as he took in what was happening. “Raven, fire—use fire!”
I stuck Venom through my belt, trying to avoid stabbing myself, and held out my hand, whispering to coax the flame onto my fingertips. It was hard to focus, given the creature was trying to drag me forward into the dark thicket, but I managed to summon up an orb of fire and I slammed my hand atop the tentacle near my wrist. There was a sizzle as the fire hit the creature, and a loud hiss echoed from behind one of the bushes as the tentacle released its grasp on me.
Llew grabbed hold of my other arm and pulled me back away from the thicket as another tentacle reached out, and then a second one, both waving toward me.
“Get out of here!” I shouted to Llew, not waiting to see what it was going to do next. Turning, I raced back
the way I had come, Llew on my heels. We stumbled back into the main ravine and I glanced up at the waning light.
“We need to get to the top before dusk. I don’t know what that thing is, or if it can follow us.” I grabbed my walking stick from where I had dropped it as Llew hastened toward the trail. I followed him, forcing my legs to work harder than they had in a while.
“Hurry up,” he said nervously, glancing over his shoulder. “I think I saw something moving behind us. Come on!”
Once again, he took my hand—not the one that was injured—and began half-dragging me up the hill. His long legs stood him in good stead and I stumbled along, trying to keep up. We hustled, Llew striding up the hill like he’d been born to climbing mountains. I kept glancing over my shoulder, straining to see if we were being followed. As we ascended the hill, more than once I got slapped in the face by the passing ferns and vines. But we finally stumbled out onto the main trail as the dusk began to settle in.
“We’ve got twenty minutes before we’re back to my house, so let’s get a move on.”
I started down the trail, heading toward the cul-de-sac, trying to find our footprints in the snow. But they had been covered up by the fresh layer. All the way back, I kept imagining something lumbering behind us, but each time I glanced back, I couldn’t see anything.
It took us only twelve minutes instead of twenty to cover the distance and, by the time we stumbled out into the street, I was beyond winded. But we were safe, and whatever it was, remained cloaked within the shadows of UnderLake Park, waiting.
Chapter Nine
“Gunnar and Kipa are due over soon, but before they get here, I want to find out what the hell that creature was.” I stomped the snow off my boots and hustled into the house, with Llew following.
“Do you have any bestiaries around?” Llew asked. “I’ve got one at home, but I don’t think it’s all that detailed compared to some.”
“Yes, actually. I have an old one, and it’s very inclusive.” I stripped off my jacket and boots. “Get out of those wet things. I’m going to change clothes. I’ll lend you a robe, so you can dry your jeans and shirt before you head home. They’re good for the dryer, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, and thanks. I got soaked out there.”
I headed into my bedroom, where I slipped out of my drenched clothes and found a comfortable tank dress with an asymmetrical hem. I slipped a belt around my waist, and then slipped on a pair of yoga socks so my feet wouldn’t get cold. Opening another closet, I slowly withdrew a spare man’s bathrobe. Made of microfiber, it was a dark blue. I held it for a moment, hesitating. It had been Ulstair’s robe, but I couldn’t bring myself to give it away. But it would fit Llew perfectly. With a sigh, I draped it over my arm.
Stopping to peek in on the ferrets—they were all asleep and the room was clean as a whistle, with no litter scattered anywhere—I headed back to the living room, where Raj was staring at Llew with a wistful look.
“Raj, are you trying to cadge a treat off of Llew?” I shook my head. “Nothing till dinner now, my friend.” I handed Llew the bathrobe. “Here, go change in the bathroom and I’ll toss your shirt and pants in the washer too, if you like. Or I can just dry them, if you’re in a hurry.”
“Dryer will be fine.” He took the robe and headed toward the bathroom.
Raj came up to me, nudging my leg. “Are Llew and Raven okay?”
“Raven and Llew met a very nasty creature out in the woods today, but yes, Raven and Llew are all right, Raj.” I kissed his head. “Thank you for asking. Raven has to do some research for a little bit, so why doesn’t Raj go watch TV?”
“Raj want to go outside.” Raj gave me that look that said I have to go to the bathroom, lady, so open the door. He was starting to wiggle his butt a bit and I knew what that meant.
“Come on, let’s get you out there.” I opened the door and hooked him to his chain. “Don’t go far and if you see anybody coming up the walkway that isn’t Kipa, pound on the door. I’ll be listening.”
Making sure he had everything he needed, I headed back inside and over to my bookcase. I sorted through the books until I found the grimoire I was looking for. Beltan’s Bestiary—one of the most comprehensive encyclopedias in the world, and also one of the rarest. I had swiped it from my father when I left home to come out to the West Coast.
Llew returned from the bathroom, the robe belted tightly around him. “I threw my pants and shirt in the dryer. Is that Beltan’s Bestiary?” He leaned over my shoulder, staring at the grimoire. “I’ve never seen an actual copy before.” He glanced at me. “You do know that this is one of the rarest bestiaries in the world? It’s worth a fortune. Where did you get it?”
“My father owned it. I sort of stole it when I left home. Curikan knew that I swiped it, but he never said a word. For him, it was a curiosity, rather than a tool.” I motioned to the chair next to me. “Have a seat. I’m going to get a snack for us. Fritos okay? And do you want a soda?” I didn’t want anything alcoholic, especially since I had work to do with Gunnar and Kipa.
“Soda’s fine with me.” Llew was already nose-deep in the book, cautiously turning the parchment pages on which the entries had been handwritten. “Look at these drawings! They’re brilliant.” He gently flipped through the pages. “Is this organized in any way? Does it have an index of any sort?” he asked as I darted into the kitchen for corn chips and two more cans of soda.
“Actually, it does. Notice the plastic tabs on the side?” I had used sticky tabs to sort out the different chapters.
Llew laughed. “Oh! I didn’t notice them at first. You added these, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did.” I handed him the soda and motioned for him to set it on a coaster, far away from the book. I stared at the Fritos for a moment, then looked back at the bestiary. “Maybe the corn chips weren’t such a good idea. I don’t want any grease marks on it.”
“How about I let you turn the pages, and I just look at it. I’d rather not take a chance on ruining such a rare antiquity.”
I shrugged. “Okay, that’s fine with me. I keep thinking that I should take this in and get it scanned, and then tuck the original away in a humidity- and temperature-controlled environment. Then I wouldn’t be so afraid every time I pulled it off the bookcase.”
“I wouldn’t trust anyone else to scan it, if I were you. I have a large scanner. You can borrow it and do it yourself. Then you can print out the pages and store them in a binder.”
“Good idea. I think I’ll do that, if you don’t mind me borrowing your scanner.” I opened the Fritos and pushed the bag to the center of the table. Returning my attention to the grimoire, I showed Llew the loose organization of the tome.
“Of course, it’s still a mishmash because they just kept adding to it, but you’ll notice that the sticky tags indicate water creatures, land creatures, air creatures, and fire creatures. Blue, green, yellow, and orange, respectively. The purple flags indicate denizens of the spirit realm, and the white flags represent sub-Fae. The black flags are things I can’t really categorize.”
“I think we’re looking at an earth creature, unless you think it might be one of the sub-Fae. I didn’t get any sense of air, fire, or water about the creature, did you?”
I held up my wrist, looking at the puncture wounds. I had almost forgotten about them by the time we got home. They stung, but I was used to bruises and bumps. I grimaced as I noticed that the wounds weren’t looking all that clean and in fact, a couple of the punctures were oozing blood and pus.
“I think you’d better go clean out those wounds before we go any further,” Llew said, turning a worried eye to my wrist.
“I hadn’t realized they were so bad. Yeah, I guess I should. I’m not affected by a number of the poisons or venoms that other people are. But until we figure out what that creature was, I don’t want to take any chances. You keep looking while I go wash my wrist.”
I went to the kitchen and plugged in my electric tea kettle
. As soon as the water had come to a boil, I poured it into a tall mug, carefully carrying it into the bathroom with me. I’d heard too much about people who ended up with brain-eating amoebas from using tap water in their neti pots, and I sure as hell didn’t want a tapeworm or anything to take up residence in my wrist.
While waiting for the water to cool, I pulled out some antibiotic ointment—a salve that I had bought from Gowan’s AFA—the Ante-Fae apothecary. It was a small shop owned by Rose Gowan, an Ante-Fae with healing powers. She had chosen to go into business because she was a natural-born healer, and one of the few who could handle the Ante-Fae. She could heal just about anything from a cold to snakebite. At least, up to a certain point. She couldn’t raise people from the dead, nor could she cure terminal diseases. She had set herself up as the main healer for most of the Ante-Fae in the Seattle area.
After the water cooled, I carefully poured it over my wrist, making sure to thoroughly rinse out the wounds. There were five of them around my wrist, where the creature had managed to get its barbs hooked into me. The warm water stung, and I winced as I flushed out a pocket of pus. The wounds were still red but looked clean enough after I finished, so I rubbed the antibiotic ointment into the punctures, then bandaged them. It looked like I had a bracelet of bandages on by the time I was done. I returned to the kitchen, holding up my arm.
“All done. Did you find anything?”
“Actually, I think I did. Look at this.” Llew pushed the book over toward me as I sat down. I found myself facing the drawing of a creature that looked like a combination of a ghoul, an octopus, and a coarse-haired ape.
“What is that?” I asked, pulling the book closer.
“I don’t know, I can’t read the language. But those tentacles are barbed, like the one that grabbed your arm.”
The text had been written in daelethi—the ancient Ante-Fae language that all Ante-Fae were taught from birth. I was reasonably conversant in it, and kept a regular practice.
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