“I don’t need you or your magic. Whatever it is you’re wanting, you won’t be getting it from me or my family. We owe you nothing.” Mae straightened, fury etched in the deep lines of her wrinkled face. “Get on out of here.”
“That-a girl,” I murmured, smiling at the strong defiance on the face I’d known since childhood. Then I heard a faint, ghostlike laugh echo in the air around us and the fairy turned, her giant blue eyes stared directly at me through the wall.
“She has come before, she will come again, and I cannot stop her. There is only one who can. I hope she makes haste.” She took a step closer, as if getting ready to step through the wall and into the attic with us, then spoke slowly, “Answers found in pages past, listen always true. For Death comes; she surely will. Next, she comes for you.”
The wall fizzled, and went blank, and then the paper flipped itself back into its original place. The three of us stood gaping at the yellowed, sixties-style wallpaper with a small glowing corner.
“That’s what it did last time. The exact same scene, except that last little bit,” Nikki’s voice sounded stronger than it had before, though it still shook a little, “But I think I ran out of the attic before she got that far. What do you guys think?”
“I think I don’t know what to think,” I answered, and shook my head, “But for the record, I’m glad your grandma didn’t take any help. She was strong to the end.”
“I’m wondering who Wynter was talking about when she said, ‘she will come again.’ Whoever it is, she seems afraid, and that’s really weird. Wynter isn’t afraid of anyone, and for some reason she wants you here,” Adam stared down at Nikki who was biting her lip as she watched the wall. “And the Death part doesn’t make me happy at all.”
“I wonder what happens if one of us flips the page?” I mumbled under my breath as I stepped forward to grab the glowing corner.
Just as my finger touched, it sparked, and an electrical jolt sent me flying backward into a stack of boxes.
“You all right?” Adam pushed a trunk out of the way as I crawled out of the fallen heap.
“Yeah, but I guess the house doesn’t like anyone but Nikki messing with it,” I looked over at the wall, and then grinned at him, “You want to give it a try?”
“Nope,” he smiled, “I like to learn from other people’s mistakes.”
“So what’s the plan, then?” I asked, knowing Adam always had a plan. And as always, as dependable as ever, he didn’t disappoint.
“We go to the Res and get the rest of the guys, and see if my grandfather knows of anything that can help. Then we confront Wynter, see who she’s so afraid of, and why she wants Nikki here.”
***
Zue
Round Mountain Forest
She sat atop a huge stone that jutted out from the mountain. It came out so far it defied gravity, hovering in the air like a giant, gray angel — and on the very tip she sat, swinging her legs back and forth. From far away, she looked like an adventurer — one who would climb to the highest peak of the mountain to crawl out on the edge to admire the breathtaking view below of the small, sleepy town nestled in the midst of the forest.
Well, adventurer, she surely was, though not one to amuse herself with such folly as simply climbing a mountain to say she could. She thought of the three boys she found so conveniently nearby just a short while earlier. She smiled, amused with her day thus far. Her razor-sharp teeth gleamed red in the mid-day sun as she thought of the things she had done. She pushed her shoulder-length hair back, a habit she’d had for centuries, and it fell in thick, cascading waves, sparkling as red as blood in the sunlight.
A soft wind brushed her face, as her fathomless, black eyes kept their search of the town below. Behind her, several pairs of beating wings interrupted her concentration. She turned, watching as the crows landed a few feet behind her in a dead oak, squawking their arrival. One flew to the ground where a dead, crumpled rabbit lay. It pecked at the small, lifeless body. She stood, shooed the bird away, and picked up the carcass. The crow squawked in protest.
“Be still,” she said quietly in a soft, musical voice as she sat back on the rock and turned her attention back to the town. She absently stroked the mangled fur of the rabbit, mumbling to it and the village, as much as to herself, “Come now. Show me thy dead.”
A few moments passed as she and the flock of crows sat in near silence, but for the swinging rhythm of her bare feet bumping against the rock. She smiled again — a ferocious, pointed smile, and the giant, black birds beat their wings.
“There you are,” she said happily, setting down the rabbit which had begun to twitch. She got to her feet and brushed the loose bits of stone from her ragged, brown dress. Where her hands touched the ancient fabric, the holes shifted and rearranged, leaving small patches of opal-white skin gleaming in contrast. A black, moldy fog twisted around her, giving her a look of being shrouded in rot. She stood aloof — tall and straight, staring one last time down on the small, unassuming town nestled between the mountains, and smiled a very sharp, very vicious smile. A smile that looked forward to her revenge.
“Many names have I been called. You have named me Fire Witch, but I am Spriteblood!” she announced in voice that cracked like thunder, then stopped and crooned in a voice as soft as raindrops, “I am Zue. And soon…soon you’ll all be mine.”
The rabbit hopped around her feet, one leg dragging behind it at a weird angle. Still moving with a lopsided hop, it headed back into the brush…
…with eyes still dead.
***
Brian
Wighcomocos Reservation
“You smell of burnt flesh,” the old man grumbled, crinkling his long nose as he let a rather large group of us in his back door.
“Sorry, that’s me. I was helping Dad cook out,” Erik apologized, sticking an experimental finger in the smoldering, black hole in his t-shirt as three other boys shuffled past him, and everyone squeezed into the small living room of Evan Black Water, Sr. The old man was chief of his clan, old and wise beyond years. He had once been a Keeper, and was now considered the “go to” guy for all things weird and magical. He was also Adam’s grandfather.
He must have known why we were there, though I never saw him ask Adam or anyone else why his home had suddenly been bombarded with six boys who could turn into wolves, and one girl who was always in the middle of whatever trouble found them.
“You know, white man has come up with an easier and safer way to make fire on grill,” Ed informed Erik solemnly as he tried not to smirk, “White man name magic black rock — ‘charcoal.’“
“Yeah, yeah…” Erik muttered, “…starting it wasn’t the problem…lighter fluid…it’s what happened after that…”
“Quiet, you two,” Adam warned them in a low voice as the old man cleared his throat and sat down in a worn, brown recliner clasping his hands in front of him.
“This story was told to me by my grandfather, now I tell it to all of you,” he nodded first to his grandson, then to the rest of us, “I hope the story ends with you, and will not have to be told to your grandchildren.
“Long ago, began the story of the Fire Witch. It is said she was Death, herself, with eyes as dark as the blackest water, and that she came from the very darkest places on earth. Places no man could ever go. Places where only the oldest Magic lived and the blackest souls were made.”
“She took village after village bringing death to them all, both white man and Indian. One day, she came to our village, and our wolves stopped her, and trapped her with their magic, but she swore to one day be free. The U-la-gu, the leader of the very first Keepers, had eyes the color of sunlight. She bit him with her sharp teeth, turning his eyes as black as her own, and told him one day she would come for her revenge. When his eyes showed their true color once more, she would be free,” the old man gestured to his own eyes, so dark they appeared black, “It has been many years since the U-la-gu trapped the Fire Witch, many generations of his sons
came after him, with black in their eyes. Eyes like Black Water. But you, my grandson…” he looked at Adam, whose eyes shone like liquid gold, and nodded gravely, “Your eyes show their true color, and she will come for the blood she thinks she is owed. She will come for us all.”
“What is she and how can I kill her? What do I need to do?” Adam looked at his grandfather, “If they trapped her before, we can do it again.”
“I do not know if she can be killed. The story was never told of how or where she was trapped. The Keepers kept their secret, so that none could find her or set her free,” the old man looked thoughtful, then said slowly, “The only one who would know was the one who came after her. The one who spoke of peace and did not have as black a heart as her sister. You must find her.”
“Wynter.” Nikki whispered in a hushed voice.
The old man nodded gravely.
“They are Spriteblood.”
Chapter Four
Ella
Round Mountain Forest, Virginia
October 8, 1765
Ella ran until she was so tired she stumbled, and then she walked. She walked all day, watching the sun peek through the tree branches. She didn’t stop until she came to a creek, where a giant sycamore tree stood, branches spread toward her in welcome.
She knelt, drinking the water faster than her little, cupped hands could gather it. Her thirst finally quenched, she jumped at the reflection that sparkled in the clear water below her. Hair as white as snow caught at the edges of eyes that she recognized as her own. She stared in wonder at the face that was hers, but not the face she remembered. So engrossed she was in her new reflection, she never heard the pack of wolves approach on the opposite bank, mere feet from where she sat.
A low growl rippled across the water, and startled, Ella looked up.
She sat unmoving, staring straight into a muzzle of bared, sharp teeth. Although she didn’t look, she sensed there were other wolves circling anxiously behind the one whose breath blew hot against her face.
Strangely, Ella wasn’t afraid. Instead, she looked defiantly into the clear brown eyes behind the fangs. She tilted her chin up, stubbornly, and continued her unwavering stare. After all, hadn’t she survived worse things than this?
The wolf’s eyes narrowed, as it stared back at the small thing that smelled of blood, smoke, death…and courage.
It snorted, shook its massive head as if to clear it, then promptly plopped back to its haunches, and whined at the little girl.
Taking it that she had won the test of wills, Ella looked past the gray wolf to the others. She counted five, and they, like the first, all stared back at her solemnly as if she weren’t a threat, or food.
Slowly, Ella got up. The wolf rose just as slowly in an effort not to startle her. With rather exaggerated patience, it came across the creek, its head bowed low until it stopped inches from her, and then raised its head to bump under her hand. The silky fur tickled her palm, and a soft laugh escaped before she could stop it.
The tense moment broken, the wolf licked her hand, wagged his tail, then snagged the hem of her dress gingerly between his teeth, and tugged her across the creek where the others waited.
“I suppose I can go with you, I haven’t anyone else,” Ella murmured, more to herself than to her furry companions, who had seemed, all of a sudden, to have adopted her. Tears sprang to her eyes as she remembered she was indeed orphaned, without another soul in the world she could call her own.
Gentle head butts on her shoulders, and small licks to the tears that ran down her cheeks held proof that the wolves had picked up on the sorrow of the tiny, white-haired creature whose bravery they admired as they herded her slowly through the darkening forest, deeper into the safety of the trees, and farther from the world she had known.
She awoke the next morning in a mountain of warm fur. They had circled her, and piled upon one another like a pack of puppies. She had never felt so warm. She patted the top of the gray head that lay near her, and one brown eye slit open to peek at her. The wolf did a strange sort of snuffle, and then yawned, stretched, and stood up, waking the others as it leapt over them and out of the pile.
Ella’s stomach growled and she stood up and carefully made her way around the furry bodies to a patch of wild strawberries. There she ate until the gray wolf came once again to tug the hem of her dress while the others followed behind them.
The day seemed to stretch on and on, yet they continued to walk. Even though she was tired, Ella never stopped walking. She didn’t have any idea where she was, or where they were going, all she knew was that she didn’t want to be left alone. With them she felt safe.
And safe was all that mattered to her.
She had walked with the wolves all day, and just when Ella thought surely her legs were getting ready to fall right out from beneath her, she spotted curling wisps of smoke above the trees.
Her first instinct was to run, to turn back and run to the safety of the shadows that had saved her before.
Picking up on her fear, the gray wolf stopped and turned to face her. His big, brown eyes stared solemnly into her blue ones until she felt centered and safe once more. He walked around her, giving her hand a quick lick as he went by, and then the next thing she knew she felt a bump that sent her in the air and Ella found herself sprawled rather haphazardly on the wolf’s back.
Stifling a random giggle, while trying to figure out how to hold on, and wondering how and why on earth she had managed to even end up there, she settled for leaning close to the big, furry head, and clung to small fistfuls of his fur.
Once again, the pack of wolves began to move, and from her perch, Ella watched as the smoke got closer. Rather than continue to watch, she snuggled nearer, and buried her face between his shoulders. Tears welled in her eyes, as she thought of her mama, and how she would always sing when Ella or her brother was hurt or afraid.
She desperately missed her mama.
The wolf’s ears twitched back as he listened to the muffled, sad voice sing,
“The water is wide, I cannot cross o’er,
“And neither have I wings to fly…”
Within moments, the pack crested a clearing, and the wolf gave a short bark, announcing their presence. Wherever they were, Ella was sure she didn’t want to see, because now there were sounds and the smoke smelled strong, so strong it reminded her of the burning wagons. She squeezed her eyes shut, and tried to burrow deeper into the fur,
“Give me a boat that can hold two,
“And both shall row, my friend and I…”
With something that felt like a shrug, Ella felt herself become dislodged, and slide down his glossy back as he sat on his haunches. Her eyes still squeezed as tight as she could get them, she sat where she landed on the cool earth. A warm tongue licked the tears that tracked down her cheeks, and a cold, wet nose bumped her chin until she finally opened her eyes.
The dark brown eyes stared into hers again. But this time it felt different. She couldn’t have broken his stare if she wanted to. Little currents zinged around on her skin, and her vision edged in white.
Finally, the gray wolf blinked, and everything felt normal again. He looked slightly over her shoulder then nuzzled her one last time, and stood. The rest of the pack circled her and bumped against her, and she felt as if they were all saying their good-byes.
She shut her eyes tight again, as she felt them turn to go, and heard the sounds of footsteps approaching behind her,
“As I look across the sea, a bright horizon beckons me,
“And I called to do my best and be the most that I can be…”
She covered her face with her hands as her voice broke, and she began to cry.
Part of her wondered why it sounded like the howl of a wolf.
Chapter Five
Brian
“So does anyone have a clue where we’re going?” Tommy asked.
“And what we’re going to do when we get there?” Michael stood next to his cousin, who
looked like the mirror image of himself. It was like being asked two different questions by the same person at the same time.
“Well, it’s Sunday, so I’m doubting that she’s in the school library,” Ed’s angular face pinched in concentration, “But I have no idea where she actually lives, do you?” He looked over at Erik, who was still picking at the hole in his shirt.
“I’m not a big fan of fey, so, no. I don’t know where she goes to eat people or how we’re gonna kill her,” Erik grumbled as he discovered the hole had penetrated his shirt and burnt straight through, “Well, crap! These were my favorite jeans!”
I had known Wynter as Mrs. Graham ever since my kindergarten went on our first field trip to the reservation. Though her face was pinched with birdlike features, and a perpetual dour expression, the only power I felt she had was the ability to call your parents for misbehavior and send you to the principal’s office. Although it was a power she used deftly, and with great pleasure, it hardly seemed reason enough to kill her.
The whole mystical, fairy being who feasted on human flesh and wiped out entire races of humanity was a little hard to swallow, even though I had seen her in her true form in the wall of Nikki’s house, ready to bargain with an old woman for her life. After that particular thought, my allegiance to Mae Harmon won over that of the school librarian.
“I know where Mr. Graham lived years ago. It’s that little house across town near the railroad. She could be living there.”
“It’s a place to start. Let’s go!” Adam announced, and then gave me a rather direct look with his strange, gold eyes, “We’re not going to kill anybody…not yet.”
I thought he meant to be reassuring, but I still felt the weight of dread settle deep in my stomach like it was full of heavy rocks. Fifteen minutes later, we walked across the train tracks.
The small clapboard house sat in an old, dejected heap. The walls bowed in the middle as if they were searching for support for the rusty tin roof whose weight they no longer wanted to bear. Nearly all the windows were broken and the small porch sagged toward the ground. It was clear no one lived there. The house would surely fall to the ground at the first hint of a strong wind.
Once Upon a Haunted Moon (The Keeper Saga) Page 2