Wild Spirit: Huntress

by Victoria Wren

  Luke shot her a death glare. “Don’t send the dead rabbit my way!” he hissed, but Win ignored him. The hare was listening; its long, tapered ears pulled back. Slowly Win lowered herself onto her knees, keeping still as the animal crept closer.

  Win softened her voice. “We need you, Iris. We need you to help us find the lost ones; can you give us the answers we need to find them?”

  The hare bypassed her, settling at Luke’s feet, staring up at him. Luke scratched his head. “Win!”

  “Iris, you have to help us find them,” Win begged. “We can get you out of this prison…look, the door is open now. You can leave anytime you want. You’re free. But please, please help us!”

  At the mention of the door being open, the animal bolted, leaving a blazing trail of light behind it as it whizzed across dusty boxes and furniture and leaping down the attic steps.

  “Follow her!” Win cried in alarm.

  Frantically, Ella blew out all the candles, snatching up the spirit stick as they scurried down the narrow staircase. Bodies collided in the darkness below, lots of swearing and cursing as they bumped down to the ground floor. Luckily Iris had left a blue trail of light for them to follow.

  Rowan was fast. She flew through the dark corners of the house, finding the servant's entrance and winding her body under the planks of wood. Win wasn’t far behind, panting; she burst into a quick sprint across the ornate garden. The hare leapt erratically back and forth between the topiary hedges. Win kept up the pace easily, her body able to change direction in a split second. Iris stopped at the overgrown topiary of the hare, staring up at it. Win quietly crept up behind her.

  “Please help us,” she pleaded. “I know you were trapped up there. But they are too…they are out there somewhere. We could set them free if we only knew where to look.”

  Feet crunched on the stones behind them, alerting the tiny animal, and once again, she was off. Win groaned and ran behind her. Luke and Ella were calling after her. “Follow the blue light,” Win cried. “I’ve got to try to keep up with her.”

  Win let her legs carry her, the breeze ripping through her hair as she kept pace with the small animal. There was a screech from above, and Rowan’s claws nearly caught her scalp as she soared over her head.

  Good plan, Win thought, hoping she could hear. I’ll keep track below and you above.

  Iris sped across the meadow adjacent to Mercy; Win was up to her waist in long grass, praying there were no snakes hiding out in there. The light trail was dazzling, twinkling against the night as it darted back and forth, like a firework display. She paused, long enough for Win to catch her breath; the constant change in direction had caused an ache under her ribs. Win groaned as she took off again, her little feet barely touching the ground.

  She dove into the woods. Win lost track of how far she ran. She chugged in great gulps of air, lungs feeling ready to burst, every bronchiole dilated with oxygen. It was painful. “Will you stop?” she pleaded, as sweat trickled down her back. But Iris didn’t let up. Dirt flew up from her feet as she clawed and sniffed the ground, darting off again into a thicket of trees.

  “Shit,” Win moaned, wondering if Rowan was having an easier time up there. Air rushed past her. She had no idea where she was. This was a part of the forest she didn’t recognize. It was dense and thorny, the red pines shooting skyward like warding sentinels. “Iris, stop!”

  The hare wasn’t about to give up now. With one more push of energy, Win ran after her, her chest tight as they exploded into a small clearing. Iris had stopped in front of something Win knew she had never come across before. It looked like a giant stone, shaped like a totem, and strangely, it was glowing blue, just like the hare.

  Rowan thudded to the ground beside her, catching her shoulder before she got too close. Win gasped sharply at her sister’s nakedness, quickly pulling off Grayson’s long green coat leaving her in her shirt. Rowan shrugged it on gratefully; it was long enough to cover her modesty.

  “What the hell is that thing?” Win asked as the hare ran in frantic circles around the stone. The more she ran, the brighter it grew. “Take it easy, Iris.”

  “I have no idea…whoa, Win, don’t get too close!”

  “I won’t!” Win said as she inched nearer. The stone was a washed-out slate grey, and it had been intricately carved. There were symbols of creatures, all engraved into the granite. Win reached out but snatched her hand back when the vibrations met her fingertips.

  Bears…Eagles…A wolf… “Rowan—you need to see this!”

  “What is that thing?” Luke’s voice echoed across the clearing, and both the sisters turned. Next to him, Ella was shaking, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

  “How’d you guys get here so fast?” Win was stung. She was exhausted. Luke gave her a short smile.

  “We followed Rowan; she took a more direct route…why is that thing glowing?”

  “Win, come away from it,” Rowan pleaded. “I don’t like this.”

  Win stretched her fingers toward the totem, feeling the tickle of the vibrations the energy was throwing out. She tingled, letting it flow through her fingertips, warmth spreading up her arms. She could feel the strength flowing into her muscles, renewing every fiber of cartilage, every strand of sinew. “Rowan, this is incredible!” she flexed her fingers. She felt strong enough to kick through a wall. Her breath came in short pants; in her head, a pain formed, old pain. The kind she knew and greeted like an old friend. But she let it roll off her.

  “Get away from it, Win!” a voice bellowed out of the forest. Rowan’s face fell as Evan sprinted out of the woods, her hair wild around her face. Evan’s eyes were dark and furious. “Damn, I should have guessed you’d do something idiotic like this!”

  There was a pause of stunned silence, while in the background, the totem glowed like a beacon. Rowan’s face crumpled in dismay. “Evan, how do you know about this?”

  Evan grabbed Win’s wrist and yanked her out of the glow of the totem. On the ground, the hare continued to prance around it in circles; it only grew brighter, the vibrations stronger. Win snatched her arm away furiously. “I knew it!” she snapped, heat rising under her skin. “I knew we couldn’t trust you.”

  Evan’s eyes glowed darkly. “You know nothing. I came here to protect you!”

  “Start talking!” Luke flared angrily, standing at Win’s shoulder.

  “It’s a conduit,” Evan struggled to catch her breath. She had run like hell to get to this clearing. “It’s everything. It’s the source…it’s where you come when you die.”

  “What?” Rowan blinked through thick tears, betrayed.

  Evan took her by the shoulders. “I’m not here to hurt you.” She stroked Rowan’s cheek. “This thing is dangerous. It’s the source of the curse. Where it was cast years ago, your anchor to this land. And when you die, it absorbs you back.”

  Win closed her eyes, the buzzing in her head nearly deafening. “I can feel its power.”

  “We need to get you away before anything bad happens.” Evan looked at her frantically. Win was rooted to the ground, humming and vibrating, blue light snaking out of her fingertips.

  “Like that?” Luke cried, pointing at Rowan, who was writhing on the floor. Evan’s eyes flew wide.

  “Get away from it, Win!” Rowan cried with what little energy she had.

  Ella moved fast. She was on the ground trying to soothe Rowan, who was yelling in agony. The sudden violent infliction of her phasing was corrupting every particle in her body. They all watched in terror as she morphed wildly back and forth from the eagle to human, each transformation crushing her bones, splitting her skin open.

  Ella was screaming, too, never having witnessed the painful change. Luke pushed through the blue light radiating off of Win, who was paralyzed, her feet unable to move. Light had washed through the clearing like a wild, rouge wave crushing everything in its path. Win was caught in the light. She screamed as claws split thr
ough her fingertips. Her spine stiffened, her skull impaled on top like a head on a pike. She yelped, hot blood, thick like tar coursing through her veins. She thought she might burn from the inside out, her skin the last thing to peel away.

  “Win, I’ve got you,” he yelled, reaching out to her, ignoring the way her claws sunk into his forearm. Their met eyes, and for one moment, his were pure black, the irises a pinprick of yellow. “I’ve got you.”

  “I can’t move,” Win moaned, tears of agony tracking down her face. Her teeth elongated, every canine in her mouth slithering painfully through her gum line, she tasted copper as blood leaked down her throat. Her bones cracked, her spine jerked, hot pain slicing through her like a blade. “Luke…”

  She was going to die. The pain was too much. Her feet weren’t even on the ground anymore. She was floating. Dull, throbbing pain pulsated out of her spine, as though she’d been hung on a meat hook, like some form of horrific torture she’d seen in a movie. Her shoulders slumped forward, her eyes finding his.

  He was wild and terrified, his eyes shiny and wet. “I’m not letting you go,” he wailed.

  She found the strength to look up, every nerve in her neck pinging, her legs swung helplessly, suspended mid-air. “Luke, I’m dying,” she cried, resigned. Her legs were numb, her toes like dead flesh hanging from a skeleton.

  “Shut your damn mouth!” he roared, grabbing both of her wrists, and with an agonizing pull, and a snap, he pulled her clear of the totem’s pulsing light. She screamed, landing in his arms as he rolled them away. “Evan, do something!” he yelled.

  Evan ran to the totem, falling to her knees. She reached out both palms in an open prayer gesture, catching the careering light between her palms; she rocked back, yelling in agony, struggling to remain upright. She held it there, teeth gritted in exertion, chanting words on the air over and over. She held the light, its power, sapping every ounce of strength she possessed. Slowly, the light receded. She bared her teeth savagely, not letting go until the light had all but faded into a dull, dim glow. And there was nothing to hear in the clearing except the pain the light has caused. Rowan sobbed into Ella’s lap, safely back in her human body.

  Win felt like she had been broken in half, like her spine had been torn from her body. The trees spun above her. She couldn’t get focus on Luke’s face. Heat returned to her limbs, prickles of sensation ebbing through her lower body. But she was healing. It tickled and itched. She was on fire. Luke stroked her hair, his hands warm on her scalp. “My back, it hurts,” she wept.

  “You’re okay,” he told her, holding her across his lap. He smirked. “No fangs either. I won’t forget that in a hurry.”

  Win dabbed her tongue along her gum line, wincing as she touched the raw welts. Her mouthful of canines had vanished. Feeling slowly returned to her legs, and she scrambled across the forest floor to her sister, who was weeping in Ella’s arms.

  Rowan sat up and threw her arms around her. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m okay,” she cried into her sister’s matted hair.

  “I couldn’t stop it,” Rowan yelped. “It was so strong. I couldn’t control myself. And I saw you.” Her voice cracked under the weight of grief. “I thought you were going to die.”

  Luke was crawling toward Ella, who was a mess on the floor, her face dirty and wet. She collapsed into him and sobbed into his shirt. Shakily, Win stood, her feet like wood, her eyes scanning the clearing for Iris, but the hare had vanished along with the light. She yelled in frustration. Stumbling in Evan’s direction, the dark-haired woman was on her hands and knees. Her hands were brought together under her chin in prayer.

  Win knew she had to thank Evan. But there were so many questions. And sadly, they didn’t have the answers they needed. Iris was gone, sucked back into the stone totem. It had all been for nothing. Tears drying on her face, she took several painful steps toward Evan, who was trying her best to smile. But her smile vanished, her face dropped.

  “Win…get down!” she screamed. Win turned, her hair whipping about her face as the world melted into slow motion. She saw a figure in the trees, a hooded shape, holding up a bow and arrow. Win mouthed the name, his name, but it didn’t make it to her lips. An arrow split the air, hurtling toward her. She saw her own demise, the arrow hurtling straight at her, so fast she had no time to react. She closed her eyes, wondering why he would have done this. He had never loved her at all.

  But the arrow didn’t make its intended destination. The trees parted, and a great shape leaped across the clearing, a terrifying howl filling her head. A wolf’s massive, shaggy body blocked the arrow’s target. His old yellowed eyes met hers, his gums peeling back from bared teeth.

  “Grandpa, no!” she yelled into the void, though no one could hear her. For them, time had suspended. For the others, it was lightning fast. Win’s face was wet; the air-cooled her tears to salty tracks drying on her skin. The arrow pierced his flesh with force, burrowing deep under his ribs, shredding tissue, puncturing organs on its journey. Win was helpless as his eyes rolled back into his head.

  He whimpered, slumping to the ground, blood pooling out from the wound.

  “No, Grandpa, no!” Rowan crossed the clearing, falling to her knees at his side. Quietly the others joined them. “We have to get him to a hospital!”

  “It’s too late, Rowan,” Win dropped beside her, letting her hands snake across his warm fur. She choked, sobbed, and fell into him, her shoulders trembling.

  “But he’s still there. He’s still in there!” Rowan yelled as Evan wrapped her arms around her waist. “Help him, please.”

  “Listen to him,” Evan whispered. Win lifted her chin, watching as her sister closed her eyes, thick tears running down her face.

  After a moment, Rowan’s eyes flew wide. She shook her head defiantly. “No, no, please, don’t ask me,” she wailed.

  Win had an inkling; she knew what he was asking from her. The final test. The only way he would be released back to the ground, where he would be free. The night crawled in; the only sound to be heard was two young women crying softly. The animals of the forest watched as their brother came home.

  Twenty One

  THIRST CLAWED AT his throat. He could actually feel his cells dying. Every single one of them parched, collapsing from dehydration until they withered into nothing. For six days, the sun had beat on the corrugated roof, warming up the room like a slow cooker. He had nothing left to sweat out. Grayson lay on the stone floor, delirious and hungry, his stomach acid so fierce it ate at his insides. He tried to keep still, catching what little breeze he could from under the door.

  After the first night, his throat had become dry, raw from calling out, from screaming her name over and over. He should have known she wasn’t going to give in. When the room became dark and night had come, he thought she would relent. She might feel something, some speck of guilt. When morning came, he’d woken to the truck starting up outside. He was on his feet, yelling through the crack in the door. Two days later the screaming, turned to pleading, another day passed, and the pleading merged into begging.

  The eyes watched him. He knew he wasn’t alone in the room. Behind the glass, they stared at him, those soulless creatures. They knew what he was, what he had done. He was never alone. Henry was always watching.

  Grayson was forced to urinate in the corner; he felt the heat of their gaze upon him. He endured the humiliation, weeping through the crack in the door when he heard the car return. She never faltered, not once.

  You betrayed her, they said. You have been lying to her.

  Grayson had no strength to argue back. There was no argument he could make. He was all of those things. He had lied to his mother, had made promises, and broken them. They had slipped easily off his tongue. He had bought himself time, basked in the security of her ignorance.

  All for Win.

  Grayson lay on the cool stone floor, which started to boil and bake his skin. Slowly as the days p
assed, he stopped calling out, and instead, he thought of her. Her lovely face, fragile and gentle, her wide green eyes and sweet smile. She didn’t know how innocent she was, how untouched. She pretended to be mature, but he felt her need when he touched her, the way her body reacted, how unashamedly she wanted him. She ran so hot, her blood like lava under her skin; he didn’t understand how she even survived. The thought of her being next to him now was unbearable; he was burning, his insides cooking in this oven of a room. But he would never stop wanting her.

  Another long night came, the heat easing back, feeling cool air whip under the door. Grayson drank it in like oxygen. He had to bide his time, save his strength. He knew there was no way out of this room. God knows I’ve tried over the years. The sound of the engine firing up made him blink and push onto his elbows. Was she going out? At this hour of the night?

  He lay back down and rubbed at his eyes. Where was she going? Dread pooled in his stomach, his guts churning. He waited for the engine to return, his ears pricking back in anticipation. He craned his neck, waiting impatiently, his fear growing. His loathing of this woman seething inside him.

  God, he hated her. Why had he stayed so long? Tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Pathetic, weak idiot. He could have run so many times. But guilt held him in its fist, clutching at his already blackened heart—all for the love of a brother, who had hurt him, time and time again. Henry had humiliated him, undermined him, hurt him in ways that didn’t leave a mark, his prints clean.

  One time Henry had built him a boat. It was small and made out of wood. They had constructed it together, and Grayson didn’t know why this day was so different from other days. Why this day, his brother had chosen to be kind. They had worked on it all afternoon, and after the last of the sticky varnish had dried, they took it to the brook to test it. Grayson had been overjoyed, not so much with the boat but by the attention, his brother lavished upon him. He basked in it, rolled around it like a pig in muck, so needy, clingy for an approving smile, the way he’d patted him on the back. He hated himself for it because it didn’t last. It never did with Henry.