Pluck (The Woodswalker Novels)

by Emilia S. Morrow

  It was not until the man was within a few feet did she even recognize him.

  “Wow,” Briar commented.

  Her woodswalker, in men's clothing. He held a bouquet in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. She could not stop staring at them. There was something cultural there, something learned.

  He handed her a large bundle of roses and other smaller flowers. The ends were rough as if hacked away from it’s home by teeth or talon. As she grasped the stems, thorns pricked her palm. Another stolen piece of someone else's life.

  “Do you like them?” He asked, doing a little spin before her.

  He wasn’t wearing any shoes. She wasn’t sure what part she was supposed to like. It all felt wrong. Perhaps it was the discordant screeching of the trumpet, or the manic twist of his smile.

  “How did you know?” She responded instead.

  He had deflated so quickly. His shoulders slumped. He pulled off the tie and let it flutter away in the wind. Briar stared at its resting place in the damp soil.

  “You don’t like it,” he whined. His hands twitched at his side, skin tightening over poised muscles.

  “No, I do.” She said quietly, inching backwards as delicately as she could. There was something about his sudden shift in posture that startled her.

  The mood passed over him, his eyes brightening again. He leaned in and kissed her as if nothing had caused him to lash out. Maybe she had misjudged his reaction. It was gone so quickly she couldn’t be sure.

  “I’m glad. Do you want to enjoy this by the fire?” He asked, shaking the box of chocolate. Briar nodded quickly. Anything to change this strange shadow over her.

  He wandered off towards the firepit. The moment his back was turned to her she began to shake. This should fill her with joy. She should be happy to have him try to be what she wanted. Why did it feel like she had been burned?

  The woodsmoke stung her dull eyes. In the warm embrace of the fire the chocolates melted the moment she picked one to eat. She scarcely noticed the taste as they passed her lips. He only bit one of the truffles before sliding the box back towards her.

  He slowly shed his suit as they sat there. By the time the box of chocolates was empty his suit was scattered around the fire. He reclined against the soft mosses. Humanity was an uncomfortable skin he did not spend enough time in.

  It checked all of the boxes for what she should want. Her quiet, thrilling woodswalker was attempting to be more like the men she would be used to. Then again, the men she was used to ended up being lousy at best and predatory at worst.

  As he carried her back to the cabin he left his human suit behind.

  ***

  She cannot get the thought off of her mind. Everything was still the same, but the corners did not seem matched up how they were before. She felt like there was just something she was missing.

  She was in a secret world with a secret man. Her continued existence was full of secrets. She just assumed she was in on them. Strange feelings rolled their way down her limbs at every thought of the strange home under the earth.

  “Take me back to the waterfall,” she said.

  She was surprised by the boldness of her request. Her cheeks burned from her outburst. She looked away. It was what she needed to do, but she hadn’t planned on doing it so sudden.

  He got so still she wasn’t sure if he heard her. His eyes grow more dim, a single cloud moving in front of the brilliant sun. Maybe it was just a trick of the light.

  “Fine. We will go after I get us food,” he muttered.

  Thinking quickly, Briar pulled him back onto the bed. “I want to go now. We can get food by the waterfall.” She said. She pulled him in for a kiss, praying not to see the same look on his face when they pulled apart.

  “Why are you so eager to go there?” he asked. The question was spoken lightly, but Briar could not help but imagine the edge it had.

  “Do I need a reason?” she asked carefully.

  “Of course not,” he said.

  He put on some thick clothing to battle against the cold. He packed a bag with some supplies for the hike over. He came over to pick her up, but she stopped him.

  “Don’t forget your key,” she said.

  ***

  Briar expected them to go into the secluded cave right away. Instead he laid her down on the boulder. She needed an excuse for them to go inside the cave. She untangled from him, moving to stand along the rocky shore of the pool.

  “What are you doing?” He asked.

  Without a word Briar began to undress, leaving no room for arguments. Despite the cold in the air she could feel the heat of his eyes on her. She took slow, deliberate steps into the freezing water until only her breasts stayed unsubmerged. Every small ripple of the surface sent electricity up her spine.

  Without a sound he appeared behind her. Briar can feel the heat coming off of him. His hands snake their way between her thighs. She gasped openly, bucking against his palm. He had not tried anything like that before.

  It felt good, but she cannot give herself fully to him. The sudden change in technique reminded her of her questions. Her mind wanders to the locked door deep within the cavern. She needed to get inside. She needed to be alone.

  He bite the smooth skin of her back, bringing her back to his movements below the surface. His thick fingers found their way beneath her soft mound of flesh. She moaned openly. She had to actively remind herself that she was free to scream.

  A wave of warm pleasure overrides any thought of mysterious locks. He mercilessly continued until she pulled his hands off of her.

  She turned to face him finally. She was almost too weak to keep herself from floating away in the current. To her relief his hands wrapped themselves around her waist. His face was hard to read, neutral curves and distant eyes.

  “I’m cold.” She murmured against his neck. “Let’s go inside.”

  This time, she was less afraid of the stillness of the rock above them. She warmed with fresh clothes and furs and stale air. Her pulse ran hot through her fingertips.

  “I’ll be back with food,” he said, standing to leave her.

  She reached out to grasp his hand. “I’d like to try rabbit, I think. With blueberries,” she announced.

  The look in his eyes told her she was pushing it. She pulled her hand away.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said briskly. He left the cave, closing the door behind him with a heavy thud.

  Briar froze, staring through the gloom. She stumbled over pots, lanterns, milk crates, to reach the door. She turned the knob slowly, scarcely wanting to know the answer. It was unlocked. In her panic she did not bring the lantern with her. She stumbled all the way back to its glow.

  She carried the lantern with her as she shuffled her way around the perimeter of the cavern. Nothing stood out in any particular way. It was more of the same, mildly useful supplies that cluttered the cabin.

  Along the front wall she found a crevice leading further into the cave system. As she approached it a pungent smell hit her. How did she not notice it before? Her hands ran over its edges, feeling the chips removed by force. The crevice was hardly big enough for her to walk through, only a few inches of clearance on either of her shoulders.

  There was nothing more she wanted to do than turn around, go back to waiting for her dinner. The smell was not exactly inviting. She followed the thin corridor to its end, finding a room not much bigger than her old apartment kitchen. Which was to say, far too small for its purpose. Here the smell was a living thing, taking far too much room in the cramped space. At her feet was a bucket of putrid rot.

  The owl had never used the bathroom in the cabin. It made no sense for him to go out of his way to shit in a bucket deep within a cave. Someone else was definitely living here beneath the earth, and recently. Where did they go? The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She turned away, dry heaving.

  The cave gave no other clues as to what had taken place there. At this point it was cle
ar that there was something she was not understanding about her situation. If someone else was here, the other residents of the cave would know. Hopefully she had not taken too much time.

  She grabbed her lantern and opened the door. “Can I talk to any of you?” She pleaded with the shimmering mass of stars above her. There seemed to be less than the last time she was here. She switched on the lantern she had brought with her. The bats shifted away, darting to corners furthest from her.

  “Please! I need to know if someone else was living here, and where they went.”

  She shut the lantern off, leaving her alone with her heartbeat. Perhaps they didn’t like the light. After a few moments of silence, she could feel the air around her shift. A pair of eyes hover a foot below hers.

  “Please go back to the room,” a young boy whispered.

  His small hands grasped her shoulders to give a solid push. Despite his size he was strong enough to momentarily knock her off balance.

  “What happened here?” Briar asked again.

  The young boy did not respond. She switched on the lantern once more. His dark hair was cropped short around his scalp. Briar could see the peculiar long shape of his skull underneath. His body was littered with deep purple bruising. She opened her mouth to speak just as he slipped past this skin and into his other.

  “Please,” she said. The remaining bats took off in unison through the entryway. There would be no more answers.

  Briar drifted back into the cavern. Her feet carried her across piles of things that did not matter. The shock of a battered boy replayed beneath her eyelids. They were all too afraid to speak with her. She may not know what was going on, but she did know one thing.

  Her lover could not be trusted.

  Missing Girl

  She found herself wrapped up in his arms as if nothing had changed. Every caress, every smile had to be manually inserted into her interactions with him. If she let herself think about things her face grew sour. If he was up to something, she didn’t want him to know that she knew.

  Thump.

  The sound brought her out of her head and into another mystery. Inside the cabin it was louder than it had been on the porch. Whatever it was must be somewhere in the cabin.

  “What is that noise?” she blurted out, sitting up in bed.

  His arms were still lazily wrapped around her torso. She turned to look at him, eyes wide. His expression was the same as it had been before, so calm it looked almost bored.

  “I don’t hear anything.” he said with a shrug.

  Briar tried to protest, her hands going up to motion towards their surroundings. He placed a finger up to her lips to silence her. She wanted to snap it off.

  “You think with my hearing I wouldn’t be able to hear what is going on?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

  Yes, she could not doubt the hearing of an owl. But she could doubt the truthfulness of one all she wanted.

  She thought back to their moment in the creek. He claimed his body was just like hers. Now, he claimed he was above her. When was he lying?

  Thump! Thump!

  Her hands go up to shut her ears. The sound softened just as she expected it would. Briar was pretty sure if she was having an auditory hallucination it would not dampen like it should. At least she hoped. She stole a final look into his bright copper eyes. They did not flinch as louder thumps pounded their way to her ears.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Without a word she crossed the room to shut herself into the bathroom. She had originally gone into the room just to get some space to think, but here she could hear the thumping much stronger. She could feel the sound reverberate against her bare feet. She got down on the floor in front of the toilet to press her ear against the rough-hewn wood.

  She strained her ears but the moment she did the thumping stopped. She waited for a few more minutes, desperate to understand. When it is clear there would be nothing but silence she got back to her feet. She took a few moments to compose herself in private. After so many impossible things going on she could not let this one thing go. It felt important.

  She pressed her ear to the bathroom door. The rest of the cabin was quiet. As she opened the door the owl flew in from the window to land on the table. She paused, hand on the knob. What had he been doing outside? His owl eyes darted over to hers before grabbing his hunting bag in his talons and flying out of the room.

  She tried to let it go, to settle in to wait for him to return. The thought kept nagging at her. He was hiding something. She could not help but think that him having been outside the cabin and the noise stopping was not a coincidence. Whether the secret was a large one or not was the question.

  How much time would she have alone?

  She started moving boxes and knick knacks, trying to figure out if any of these objects could have blown in the wind. She tapped on every object she thought could be even mildly metallic. None of them came even close to the sounds she had been hearing for days. She probably looked like an idiot. She was frustrated. The noise had to be important or he wouldn’t be potentially gaslighting her about it.

  She laid back onto the floor, barely grazing another broken lantern with her head before she came to rest. She was about to get back up when she noticed a current of air below her. With some effort she turned over. Staring down at the crack between the boards she was met with darkness.

  The air was not the thick warmth of a crawl space. The air was cool, as if a chasm had opened up below the cabin. There must be a basement, she realized. She suddenly felt much less secure. Whenever the cabin floors would groan in protest she assumed they would only fall the two steps the cabin was raised. Now knowing there was more below her sent her stomach into knots.

  She had decided to accept her fate here and stay. He had promised her a life here. There was a part of her that was beginning to see this cabin as something they shared together. An entire room she did not know of was a betrayal of trust, at a minimum.

  She circled the cabin two times before she spotted it. It was against the ground just where the porch meets the main portion. A hole, barely taller than the width of her hips. She stared into the darkness.

  A pair of glowing eyes stared back.

  ***

  As dusk approached she coiled herself around the owl man. There was still sleep in his eyes as he gave her a small smile. Briar worked to match the same expression.

  “Good morning,” he groaned, his muscular arms stretching above his head.

  “Good morning,” she cooed, kissing him deeply. “You know what I’m craving?” She leaned into his chest with a smirk.

  “What?” he asked.

  His tone suggested that she was asking for too many things too often. He smiled, but something in his eyes always changed. She needed more time alone to face the basement. She didn’t know what else to do.

  “I’ve been really craving some food from town,” she said. It felt lame to her own ears. “Like when we went to the lake.”

  “It must be hard to be stuck eating a different diet,” he conceded. His eyes softened. He began to stand.

  “You don’t have to go right this moment, you just got up,” Briar said.

  “No, it takes a long time to get there and I want to get back to you as soon as possible.” He grinned, placing another kiss on her outstretched hand.

  “Well, thanks,” she murmured.

  “I’ll probably be back a few hours before sunrise,” He announced. She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek before he headed out. For a moment she felt guilty. He looked so happy.

  She waited a few moments after he flew away before she took a peek out of the window. Although there was nothing but darkness ahead she waited some more. There was a lump in her throat that would not leave her. She was not meant for spy work.

  She stumbled outside of the cabin on her crutches. The blanket of clouds hid any light the moon may have offered. Although she could not see much, she kept the lantern around her neck clicked o
ff.

  The hole at the base of the porch was not much wider than she was. As she peered down its cramped entrance she smelled the quiet stench of decay. No sign of the eyes. She pulled her lantern over her head, clicking it on before she lost her nerve.

  She dropped the lantern down the steep expanse of darkness. The moment it left her hand she knew it was probably a stupid idea. It landed with a clatter on a smooth stone floor. It barely illuminated its surroundings. The sound of hard plastic on stone startled something at the edge of the gloom. The familiar thumping begins, deeper and more desperate down at this level.

  Before she could change her mind she jumped in. She landed hard on her knees, causing another burst of noise from the other end of the room. She hesitated, the sound of her heart drowning out the thumping of metal on stone.

  The woodswalker opened its eyes. The light carried across the space as it bashed against something confining it. Briar still could not tell whom the eyes belonged to.

  Slowly, she slid the lantern ahead of her. This room was less cramped than the cabin above or the cavern he kept apart. The stone floor was barren, save for the musty dirt and old leaves staining its surface.

  As she crawled closer piles of soft hair lay in strange clumps. Like the small pile of fur Pepper left behind, or the mass of feathers her owl shedded every shift. Those parts were not living, and could not return to their flesh.

  A cage of rusted wire sat along the far wall. Inside was a creature the size of a medium dog. It’s cage was barely large enough for it to lay down. Briar pushed the lantern closer until she recognized it’s form. A fox, its fur was patchy and a dark coal grey in places. It turned to face her, revealing deeply glowing eyes.

  “Hello?” Briar called out. The fox continued to stare. She wondered if it only spoke the strange language of the woodswalkers.

  “Can you understand me?” she asked it. The fox nodded its head. She let out a breath she did not know she was holding. Whoever was in the cave had not been the only one. All at once, she was afraid.