Huntsman's Prey

by Marie Hall

  “I didn’t know that.”

  She clipped her head. “I’m sure there’s a lot about Wonderland you didn’t know.”

  “I can’t disagree with that, each minute only reinforces those truths for me,” he said it absentmindedly, but she imagined that maybe there was an apology in there.

  Or maybe that’s just what she wanted to hear.

  Aeric looked down at the trickle of water in obvious perplexion, and bending over, he dipped his pinky finger in the waters. Brows dipping again when the shooting sparks of light danced across his hand. “A copperhead beetle tweezered me three nights ago. I feared the wound would never heal.” He wiggled his healed finger in front of his face.

  He had nice fingers, long and tapered, the nails were smooth but blunt, her flesh tickled when she remembered how he’d danced those same fingers along the inside of her arm which had been present at that time. She never could control which parts of her body would appear, or not appear as it were. Most annoying

  Lissa was a guardian of the woods; a keeper of the magic, there was no duty as sacred as what she did. Her life had been nothing but guarding and protecting what lived and breathed inside of Wonderland, she’d never known the touch of a man. Not in a sexual way, not even in a friendly way. And up until the moment he’d touched her, she’d never known touch in her life.

  Her stomach went topsy-turvy. Blowing out a breath, she cleared her throat and moved several steps away from him.

  Glancing up at the cloudless night, she thought that maybe this would be a good spot to make camp. Fairy being this close, Chrysalis would likely not come here. “Let’s bed down here.”

  Making his way to his feet, Aeric planted his hands on his hips and looked around. Everything inside of Wonderland was home, she knew it like the back of her hand, but even so she tried to picture it is he was viewing it now. By his own admission he did not come into Wonderland often, and as much as she teased him about it, she’d also never left Wonderland herself.

  It was obvious he knew nothing of leech vines, or the magical properties of the fairy’s brook, did he know how to scout food, did he know how to burn fire, she smiled thinking perhaps she could be helpful after all.

  “Are you certain? Maybe we should look a little farther out,” he said. “There are no trees to shield us, this is flat, open land. Any predator could spot us within a mile—”

  “You have to take everything that you think you know, hunter, and toss it away. The trees are no more safe than these predators that you fear. You now know about the leech vines, what about the polka dotted python acorn tree, or the hanging willow, or the galloping Oak? I can keep you safe.”

  She could see he wasn’t overly fond of what she was saying, but he also couldn’t deny it. He looked back out at the flat lands.

  In that moment, with the wind rifling through his hair, pulling the umber locks behind him and the smell of juniper all around, her heart did that strange beating thing again. She rubbed her chest and frowned.

  “Then I guess we make camp,” he finally agreed.

  Pulling his pack off, he dropped it on the ground and began rifling through it. “We cannot set up camp next to this brook, water is a beacon to any creature good or evil, we’ll go back twenty yards. We should be safe enough then.”

  She wasn’t inclined to disagree with him, he was absolutely right.

  Pulling out a rag, he wiped his brow, then smashed it back into his pack. Together they walked twenty paces away and in no time flat had a makeshift camp set up.

  Aeric then pulled out a skin of rolled furs, laid them out flat, and then sat before taking out a hunk of dried meat and began chewing on it.

  “No fire?” She asked.

  He shook his head “I don’t often build one, only when it’s really cold and I know that my flame will not attract anything. I still feel too exposed out here.” He tipped his meat toward her. “This is jerky, it will fill my stomach tonight. You called Chrysalis a demon,” he said, “why?”

  She shivered, remembering the one time she came upon the woman dressed in silks of blue. There’d been a vacancy in her eyes, something Lissa would never forget. “Because I’ve never seen her in physical form, she’s always appeared to me as a ghost would. She never moves, never utters a sound, all she does is stare.” She shook her head. “I’ve seen much in Wonderland, but she brings ice to my veins.”

  “I can imagine.” He swallowed. “But when she was with me, she wasn’t a ghost. She was as physical as you mostly are. How did she look to you then?”

  Frowning, she glanced down at herself. Because she was usually always alone, she’d never thought much about the fact that only certain parts of her were ever visible at a time. Right now, only her face and arms were in physical form. But it always shifted with her, unless she was in cat form. Why? She never really knew.

  She shrugged. “A ghost.”

  “I didn’t fight a ghost, I can assure you.”

  Twisting her lips, she spread her arms. “Not sure what to tell you. That’s how I see her.”

  “Hmm. That’s interesting.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Not sure yet, just interesting.” He smiled.

  It wasn’t a lingering smile, it wasn’t a sensual smile. There was nothing in that smile that even suggested it was anything more than an inconsequential grin, and yet she felt that smile move all the way through her. Heat rose to her cheeks, and for the first time since being with him, she wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

  So she pretended to spot something interesting over his shoulder, making sure to not look him directly in the face.

  After a while he snapped his fingers. “Hey, you okay?”

  “What? Me?” She yawned and stretched her arms. “Oh, I’m fine. Just tired. Yup. Long day.” Even if it didn’t appear as though she had legs, she actually did. Standing, she nodded. “I should probably let you get some sleep now. I’m sure you’ll want to head out early in the morning.”

  His jaw worked from side to side a bit before he finally responded, “You’re probably right.”

  Did he want her to stay? She blinked, she’d stay, if he asked.

  But he didn’t ask, instead he said, “Thank you.” And the way he said it so haltingly, she knew it wasn’t easy for him.

  She could be mean and ask him for what, forcing him to explain himself. To put into words that without her he would most assuredly be dead. But she suddenly found she wasn’t as keen to tease him, as she’d been earlier.

  “No problem.” Nodding, she turned to go.

  His brows gathered. “Are you leaving?”

  “I do not enjoy sleeping above land. I will dig a hole just there,” she pointed to a small knoll surrounded by moss and snoring lily of the valleys. “I always wake at sunrise, would you like me to wake you?”

  He nodded and feeling more awkward than ever, she walked off, very aware of his gaze burning a hot hole through the back of her skull.

  Stalking off, skin feeling itchy, she set about digging a quick hole. Transforming her hands into predatory paws with wickedly curved claws. In moments she had a basic, and not too deep hole. But it was good enough.

  Sighing with relief as she once again became the form she felt most comfortable in, she slid into the land and closed her eyes.

  Wonderland trembled as it took her in.

  No. No. No. Chrysalis shook her head, watching from behind the safety of a popcorn bush at the man lying on the ground.

  “You must go to him. You must kill him, little one. You know you must. He’s come to destroy you… Destroy us.”

  The voice inside was so loud tonight. So insistent. She hugged her shoulder, cringing with each inhalation of breath. The fight from earlier had bruised, already the wound was sealed, she healed quickly. But that didn’t stop the ache inside, outside, around and around and around…

  “Go to him,” the voice whispered louder, like a gnat buzzing in her ear. Chrysalis swallowed hard, bit down on the corner of
her lip, and fought the urge, the drive, to walk out of her copse to him.

  He was a big man, brawny, and strong. She’d felt the strength of his fingers as they’d curled around her neck, but she’d also felt his restraint, the hesitance he’d felt in ending her life.

  Why? Why? Why? She grabbed her skull, squeezing her eyes shut as the voice continued to drive out sanity and reason.

  “It’s a lie. He’s deceiving you, do not fall for it. He’s lulled you into believing he’s not here to harm you, you know he is. They’ve turned against us. The only way to stay safe is to—”

  “NO!” she screamed with a voice grown hoarse from disuse.

  The man jerked, shot up from his bed of skins and peered into the darkness. She licked her lips. She saw him. She knew he could not see her. No one could, not if she didn’t want them too.

  Her fingers curled around the branches so hard their roughened edges punctured her palms. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not anymore. Not since the moon stole her soul.

  But tonight it wasn’t full, tonight it could only whisper, could only cajole, could only seduce.

  The lure was strong, he was so close. She could end it, end him. Kill the cannibalistic sanity that frayed her nerves raw. It would be so easy to give in, to become the creature they all assumed her to be.

  So. So. Easy.

  An owl hooted. The forest was alive. She wasn’t mad. Not just yet.

  “Not tonight, not tonight, not tonight,” she muttered in sing-song under her breath. Tonight she was Chrysalis, tonight she was in charge. Releasing the branches she twirled on her heel and ran toward the pool.

  Her pool. The place where her face came, where reflection could vocalize, not just speak in her head. Told her what to do. Who to be.

  It wasn’t far, just over the ridge. Hidden behind a forget me bush. But only the sane could forget, the insane remembered everything.

  Which was very likely why the insane always appeared to be so wrong. Too many thoughts flooding a weak mind, too many memories and stories, and people and places and thoughts and thoughts and thoughts and so many. Too many. Too many.

  She shook her head, feeling herself slipping down the rabbit hole. Clawing her muddied reason to the top of all the noise was difficult, but she finally managed.

  The forget me bush’s leaves sparkled with threads of silvery-blue. The moon had kissed this place. Fashioned it just for her. This was where the moon spoke to her, showed her truths and lies and made her determine which was which. She wasn’t very good at getting it right she feared.

  The bush was as much a predator as anything else in Wonderland. One touch of flesh to leaves and it absorbed memories. That was what nourished it, fed it for days or years, depending on the strength of the memory.

  She smiled as she brushed her hand atop its satiny leaves and a current of power bolted through her. Chrysalis never cared to lose memories, she had too many, most of them false anyway. Anytime she brushed it, she felt calmer. More at peace, not quite so overwhelmed. It would be too easy to stand here and let it take, let the parasite suck her dry, but the moon called…

  Walking behind the overgrown hedge, she fell to her knees upon the thick carpet of moss and peered into the inkwell of silvery dappled water.

  The darkness inside spread to infinity. Or so it seemed to her.

  But finally the darkness parted and a bolt of light speared its center, turning the colors first murky and then to a foggy blue.

  She gazed at her reflection. At the alien face staring back at her. But this time Chrysalis wasn’t looking at reflection, she was looking at herself and she was covered in blood. Had she fed?

  Spreading her fingers on her stomach, she frowned, feeling neither full nor empty. The waters of the pool shifted and now it wasn’t she looking at her, but reflection.

  “You should never yell at me, Chrysalis, I am your only friend,” the face that was hers but not really hers said.

  She shook her head. “Why must I kill the man? You do not make sense.” He’d asked her to stop. Told her there could be another way. Those were not the actions of a killer, surely.

  The pretty face scowled, electric blue eyes glowed like unholy flame in the twilight. “He is out there now, ready to devour you. Asleep, easy to take. You needn’t look, close your eyes, sweet, and I shall do it all for us. I can end our madness.”

  “I do not want you to kill him.” Chrysalis traced reflection’s face. The reflection never traced back. “He let us walk away. I do not think he seeks to harm me.”

  Fangs sprouted from reflection’s mouth as she snarled. “Show me the item.”

  Reaching into the bodice of her tattered birthday dress, Chrysalis withdrew a pouch. His pouch. The one he’d dropped by the river’s bank.

  “Open it.”

  Untying it, she stuck her hand inside and pulled out one article. A swatch of netting, tracing its roughness with a finger she marveled at its coolness, something about the netting felt very different from any she’d ever beheld before. And then she noticed something she hadn’t noticed before, at the very heart of the net was a glow. A nebulous glimmer that drew her eye like a moth to flame, making her feel as though she were sliding, slipping into the beauty of that flickering sparkle.

  “Drop it at once!” Reflection barked, frightening Chrysalis so that it slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers.

  “What?” she snapped.

  “You must burn it, that is the source of our destruction. Without it, he is helpless.”

  But the light was so pretty. Reflection wouldn’t stop demanding, yammering on and on and on. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk.

  “Enough! I understand. Enough.” Getting up, Chrysalis dusted off her knees.

  “The Moon’s Net must first be boiled in a bronze kettle, and then tossed into a volcanic hot spring, the heat must be high enough to strip the magic out, only then can it burn in flame. Every scrap of it must be consumed by flame. Do you understand?”

  Was there fear in reflection’s eyes? Chrysalis squinted, noting what looked like a faint sheen of sweat glistening on reflection’s brows.

  She squeezed the net in her fist.

  “Understood, girl?” Reflection’s voice boomed, causing droplets of water to splash upward from the spring and smack Chrysalis in the face.

  “I understand,” she whispered, wiping the wet off her cheek. “But it is just a small bit of rope, what could it possibly do to us?”

  Reflection’s laugh was sinister and low and made all the hairs on Chrysalis’ arms stand on edge. “You are a fool to believe an object is only what it appears. What you hold, in the wrong hands, would utterly destroy and devour us. Beside the bandicoot’s burrow is a volcanic spring. You must take it there. Tonight. While the cover of darkness is strongest.”

  Slipping the object back into the pouch, Chrysalis tucked it into her bodice once more. She didn’t say goodbye to reflection, she merely turned on her heel and marched toward the bandicoot’s home.

  Reflection was very smart. She always helped Chrysalis, she was right. Right? She shoved a thick branch out of her way, stepping on every mushroom that came across her path, why she did it, she wasn’t sure, but it was a compulsion she’d never been able to resist.

  The night was long, the clouds thick and heavy. The wind smelled of dew and earth, shadows crawled like malevolent entities along the trampled path of dirt and grass.

  A hunter was following her. A big, strange man. A man her parents had sent to find her.

  Why?

  Why would they send such a strange, tall man?

  A man with hair like rich soil and eyes like hottest flame?

  A man who dressed in skins and dissolved into a thousand grains of sand?

  A man who tried to talk to her first? Who tried to make her stop?

  “Stop what?” She smashed a red mushroom, its meat squished between her toes. “What is going on? Who are you?”

  “Stop talking nonsense,” the voice inside s
narled, “your job is not to question, your job is to do. Only I will keep you safe. Only I ever could.”

  Chrysalis stopped talking after that, because the voice heard and she wasn’t happy. Why was it wrong to question though?

  Didn’t her parents love her once?

  Sometimes she could remember the smell of cinnamon and sugar. Other times she remembered nothing but wisps of half formed images. Maybe lies. Her head lied a lot. There were too many thoughts.

  Reflection told her most weren’t true. The good was bad and bad was good.

  She believed reflection.

  But it was just a scrap of fiber.

  Why did reflection look so worried? Chrysalis shook her head, because the thoughts were hurting. She was a good girl. And good girls did what their friends asked.

  Just as reflection had said there would be, Chrysalis spotted a bubbling, frothing pool beside a burrow. Yanking the rope out of its pouch she gazed at it again.

  Reflection could hear, but reflection couldn’t see.

  Deep down a thought began to bloom, a strange, silly, little thought. The thought that maybe reflection was keeping something from her. Friends shouldn’t keep secrets.

  And yet…

  Rather than drop the rope into the pool as reflection had commanded, Chrysalis tucked it gently back into her bodice and burned something else instead. When reflection asked her if it was over, she’d say yes.

  But that night, when she returned to the man’s camp and she gazed out at him, and saw him sleeping so soundly, so peacefully she was determined to discover the truth.

  The truth would set you free.

  Chrysalis wasn’t sure where she’d heard that before, but in the deepest, most private part of her soul she knew it to be true. Still, the man could not be allowed to thwart them… she needed time and she needed distance.

  Wiggling her fingers, she altered the land. “It must be done.” It was on the tip of her tongue to say she was sorry, but then reflection would hear, and right now she wasn’t so sure she could trust reflection as well as she once had.