by JM Guillen
“It’s some creep who wants to hook up for the evening.” Rehl’s hand found my shoulder. “You don’t have any proof of anything else.”
“He wore a cloak!” I gestured emphatically, even though the dim light lowered our visibility. “There’s no renaissance festival anywhere close, as far as I know, and the con’s long done.”
“He’s a flasher,” Rehl sighed. “I know you don’t spend much time in New York anymore, Liz, but that’s probably a trenchcoat.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” Before he could say another word, I stood up, making no further attempt to hide in the bushes.
The pedestrian, not ten yards away, halted in place.
“Evenin’, Jax.” I spoke the name clearly and stood as tall as possible. “We should talk.”
The figure cocked his head, as if taking measure of the stranger before him. A long moment passed, and I almost believed he hadn’t heard me.
“No.” He spoke softly, an unusual melody wound through that single word. “We shouldn’t.”
He ran like a hart through the shadowed wood.
Shit. Without a second thought, I sprinted after him.
“Liz!” Rehl had scarcely stood before I’d leapt three steps away. He might have a lot more muscle than I did, and he might have more endurance, but sheer speed? And on a wounded leg?
No way. I was built to run.
Tearing through the shadows, I fought to keep the elusive figure in sight. Occasionally, he ran past a few stray beams of moonlight and when he did, I saw a tangle of black hair as well as a cloak swirl behind him.
“Liz!” Rehl called again as he gave chase a decent distance behind me.
I didn’t want him to get too far behind, but at the same time, I’d be damned if I lost sight of our fleet-footed friend.
We needed answers.
The slender silhouette scampered down a short hill and leapt a dry creek bed. Without a glance behind, he took a hard left and ran deeper into the Ramble.
I followed, pushing myself all out. I hated to run this fast in the dark over unknown terrain, but felt I had little choice.
The cloaked figure stopped for a moment at a low stone wall, and pulled himself up. Once on top, he paused for a moment and peered back to see if I still followed.
I did. The moment he realized it, he slid down the other side.
I couldn’t help but grin; that wall had slowed him just a bit.
Dex check, Liz. I picked up speed, kicked my legs forward, and leapt when I got close, shoving off with my hands as the wall passed beneath me.
I grinned; this move had always felt simple to me. Hope Rehl has his kong vault down.
I landed and continued to run.
No matter how I teased him, Rehl had a point, after a fashion. I’d rarely set foot in Central Park. If we became too separated by too much, this could be trouble.
As of this moment, I was already lost in vast darkness.
The figure gamboled ahead of me, and darted into a darkened thicket of brush. Without a bit of worry, I darted in after him, after I made certain I hadn’t dropped my pistol.
Yet after only a few steps, I realized I couldn’t see him. The darkness of the thicket closed around me. I turned back the way I had come, but only became more confused.
Where was the path? I squinted.
“Liz! I can’t catch you on this leg!” Rehl called for me, but sounded miles away.
I started to call back when I felt eyes on my back, a prickly sensation I couldn’t describe. I turned, and there he crouched, the slender figure I had chased. He no longer wore his cloak, but I recognized his wild jangle of hair. He hunkered on the branch of a tree, perched there delicately. Even though his face remained shrouded by shadows, I saw his eyes glint in the halflight.
“Hello, Jax.” I stepped toward him. “I hoped we might speak.”
He canted his head to one side and spoke, an unexpected lilt to his whispered words. They felt like a honey-sweet lullaby in my mind.
“My back unbroken, reaching for the sky,
My roots deep, seeds planted by one long dead,
Leaves turn in golden autumn, turn in verdant spring,
Silent with fragments of deep knowing,
Speaking without sound, rustles in the wind,
Wrought by one who can never taste my fruit.
What am I?”
“You—” I shook my head and felt oddly dazed. With those last three words, I felt a gentle, tingly sensation in my chest. “You are a riddler, if my father is to be believed.”
“Answer then, far-runner. Show me who speaks.” An implied command gilded his quiet words, but I chose to ignore it.
For whatever reason, Abriel had seemed highly cautious of Jax and his riddles. I opted to dodge.
“I’m not here to give answers, but to find them.” I took another step forward. “My father searched for you once, Jax. He’s gone missing.”
“Rude to take, but never give, childling lost,” he whispered again. Jax shifted on his branch, seemingly completely at home.
“I didn’t intend to take anything,” I spoke softly as I slipped through shadow. “I simply hoped we could talk.”
“Hope bears sharpened teeth. You sought more than words.” He shifted closer to the trunk of the tree. “Speak true. You come for a favor. A boon.”
“Perhaps.” I furrowed my brow in slight confusion. Hadn’t I just told Rehl we were nowhere close to a ren fest? The way this guy spoke—
“Yet see, you ever speak in sharp meanders.” He shook his head, and radiated sorrow. “Does truth lay like lead ‘pon your tongue?”
“No, I simply wanted to… want to know if you can help me find my father?”
“Yes…” He nodded. “That winds closer to hidden desire.” Then he shook his head. “And yet your searching leads to darkness dire.”
“You know where he is?”
“The manling fool gained shadows which he sought.”
“Tell me!” I stepped closer and my face flushed with anger.
“No.” For the first time, his words did not carry that odd lilt. “There is no profit in your seeking. I will not bear the hame of your folly.”
“Folly?” I shook my head, and tried to keep myself calm. “Do you even know who I’m talking about? My father came to you—”
“Aiden Shepherd.” Jax tilted his head again and appeared almost owlish. “That is the Name he bears.”
“Yes.” I blinked back tears, surprised. “That is my father.”
“Lost.” That one word struck me like an iron hammer. “He wanders ‘pon a shadowed road.”
“And you won’t tell me how to find him?”
“He sought darkness.” Jax dropped from the tree branch and landed soundlessly on the soft ground. “He would not wish you follow.”
“Why?” I hated the panicky, little girl lilt to my voice. “Why did he seek darkness?”
“Follow the path back, ’ere you be Wayward.” He nodded and pointed behind me. “The Twilight is not kind to mortal-born.”
“Not without answers, Jax,” I spat.
The shadows rustled, and he was gone.
“Fuck.” I stepped forward, and my eyes darted about, searching in the gloom.
“Liz?” Baxter’s voice called from somewhere off to my left. “Please let that be you, and not some kind of park monster.”
“It’s me.” I called back loudly enough for him to hear. “Rehl is somewhere behind me. I think I’ve got Jax, and I’m chasing him. Follow me!”
Without waiting for a reply, I sprinted into the dark.
Because that…
That was the smart thing to do.
4
I pushed my way through thorn and bramble, thankful for the thickness of my motorcycle jacket. Once on the other side, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Jax as he sprinted across the moonlit meadow toward the darkness of the other side.
“Gotcha, asshole.” I sprinted after him.
The air
felt cool upon my skin, just a few degrees above actual ‘cold’. The park swirled with a more mist than it had earlier, which gave the entire area a haunted, spectral aura.
I felt comfortable under my jacket, still, I couldn’t help but think Baxter had been right.
We needed to plan a little bit better for these missions.
Jax capered down the far side of a rise before he ran into a darkened thicket. I gave chase, and prayed inwardly that my friends followed at least somewhat close on my tail.
I hadn’t realized how large the park was. I felt woefully lost.
Leaping over a fallen log, I followed Jax down a bare earthen path. We ran past several small ponds which shone in silvered moonlight. The further we went, the larger the trees grew until, eventually, truly ancient groves surrounded us.
I rounded a corner between two large stones, wondering if Jax would ever tire, when I came upon him. He crouched on top of a large, stone statue of an elk, and gazed down upon me owlishly.
“Oh,” I muttered in surprise. “There you are.”
I really needed to work on my witty banter.
“You chase, tho twilight warned.” Jax’s melodic voice haunted me. “Ne’er knowing what in strangeling darkness may be born.”
“Yes, I chase.” I breathed a little hard but stepped forward. “I need answers. I understand you might have them.”
“And yet I offered once, with full regard,” Jax titled his head to one side and his dark eyes gleamed. “My answers given, what e’er you seek.”
“You mean your riddle.” I frowned. Riddles had never been my strong point, much to Dad’s chagrin. “Do you expect I remember those lines you spouted? Every word?” Yet even as I asked, I knew the truth. The merest attempt to remember Jax’s riddle brought back that fluttery tingle in my chest.
I could remember it. My eyes grew wide. I remembered it perfectly.
“My back unbroken, reaching for the sky,
My roots deep, seeds planted by one long dead,
Leaves turn in golden autumn, turn in verdant spring,
Silent with fragments of deep knowing,
Speaking without sound, rustles in the wind,
Wrought by one who can never taste my fruit.
What am I?”
“Answer well, and your boon is made.” He paused. “Pact struck.”
“And if I get it wrong?” I fixed him with one eye. “Will you eat my heart or turn into some kind of bat demon or something?”
“To be certain, no uttered truth shall come.” Jax shook his head. “Wayward you shall remain.”
“That’s it? No secret catch?”
Before he could answer, an eldritch wail echoed from the deep wood, a haunting cry from between those ancient trees.
Jax froze in place at the sound, furtive. He simply gazed at me, dark eyes wide, as the bone-chilling howl cast its way through the wood.
That sound was followed by another, which only made Jax’s eyes widen more.
“Liz!” Baxter cried from somewhere near within the shadowed forest behind me. “I’d love to know you’re pretty close right now!”
“Here!” I called out yet kept my gaze on the anxious Jax.
“Mortal-kith wandered wayward at your side?” He breathed the words into mist. Jax shook his head, a fascinated wonder plain on his face. “The Twilight is ever-hungry, Aiden-kin.”
“I’m starting to see that.” I worried my lip between my teeth and wondered if this had been a mistake. Having only recently made my first one, I was still new at it.
“Answer then!” He straightened, his sharp eyes sought the wood. “Then haste, back the way you came!”
“Um,” I wittily bantered. The idea of saying anything terrified me, as I didn’t know all the rules of Jax’s game. If I got the answer wrong, would he vanish? Would I ever be able to happen upon him again?
Fortunately for me, (or not, depending upon sadistic tendencies) this particular decision had been taken out of my hands.
With another iteration of that haunting, spectral bay, a bramble-wrought horror leapt from the shadows and landed squarely between Jax and me. Its shoulder crested far above my head, and it combined all of the worst features of a rabid bison and a feral boar. Viridian eyes gleamed from the depths of its dark form, the entirety of which had been constructed from—
Sticks? I gaped, certain I was seeing things in the mist-filled twilight. The creature seemed woven together from all manner of thistle and thorn, a beast with briar and nettle for muscle. It snarled at me and its elongated jaw widened to show me the spurs and spines it had for teeth.
Deep in the depths of its throat the same hateful verdigris light shone, as if the animal held a lantern of fury within it and its eyes and mouth were little more than windows.
It roared. That cry held relentless, spectral dread. A vapor of gruesome stench boiled off the thing and I gagged as I inhaled.
“Oh… oh, Jesus Christ!” I heard Baxter’s voice behind me, a positively elemental whimper of terror.
“Fuck.” I didn’t even take the time to glance behind me, knowing full well if Baxter stood there, at least one other of my friends did as well.
Probably all three. I’d just entered probable combat with a beastie of unknown stats, and, even worse, faced the swine with three practically helpless “normies.”
And it happened that only I had packed any heat.
“We really didn’t prepare for this.” I paced to my left in an attempt to place myself between Baxter’s voice and the brush-hog.
“Wary then, wanderer…” Jax’s warning came softly, melodic. “The Twrch-Umbar keeps no shape.”
“It helps so much when you make sense.” With my right hand, I pulled the Beretta from my leather jacket pocket.
With my left, I pulled a knife from its strap on the inside of my right arm. With my eye on the dread in front of me, I tossed the knife in front of the elk statue, where I gauged Jax could get to it.
“Take that if you need it.”
“Cold iron?” Jax spat. “Treachery! It bites us yet.”
And with that one line, while the snarling monstrosity lunged down upon me, my thousand thousand hours of poring over fantasy literature actually came in handy. Two dozen tiny facts clicked in my mind.
Weird poetry? Gifts in riddle form? Rambling on about the Twilight and cold iron?
Jax was a fairy.
An honest to God, fucking fairy.
“Liz!” Rehl screamed from behind me, as if I didn’t see the thorn-pig’s leap.
Those emerald eyes glowed with a hateful sheen and it drooled a miasma of putrid mist from between thorn-crafted teeth.
“I know!” I brought up the Beretta, and only remembered at the last moment to flick off the safety. I held my arm stiff, elbow locked, and fired at the beast, squeezing the trigger in three quick bursts.
I could have chosen a better time to find out how badly I sucked with guns.
The first thing I learned was locking my arms might have been a bad move. The Beretta didn’t have an awful kick but just enough of one to scare me shitless.
All thought shut down.
Therefore, my first shot actually hit, somewhere in the creature’s left shoulder. It screeched at the impact, and wooden detritus shattered.
The other two shots went wide and wild; the recoil caused them to veer off into the Twilight sky.
My ears rang.
None of this stopped the sheer inertia of two thousand pounds of bramble-wrought horror. It bore down upon me and two tusks of wicked sharpness slashed straight at my face and throat.
Just as two hundred pounds of geek tackled me from the left.
Rehl knocked us both far out of the animal’s way, and we rolled into a heap on the dewy heath.
“Give me that.” He scrabbled about on the ground until he found the dropped Beretta. “No more guns for you! Not until I can give you some shooting lessons.”
“Agreed.” I drew my last two knives from their s
heaths, and wished I had just brought every blade I owned instead of the gun.
I reached inwardly for the maelstrom of Wind that boiled and burned behind my heart. Perhaps this would go better than I thought. If Jax was a fairy, it stood to reason the bramble-boar might just be a different model of fae.
If that were the case, my cold iron knives could be just as devastating as bullets.
Maybe better.
In theory.
Yet, when I turned, the creature had disappeared.
“What?” I spun and frantically sought it. Piggy had been fast, terrifically so, yet there was no freaking way it could simply vanish, not that quickly.
“Where is it?” Baxter crept up next to me, Alicia just behind.
Jax leapt down from atop the statue, a blade in either hand. The handles seemed to be made of horn and the blades had been knapped from some bluish stone I did not recognize.
He crept around the clearing and eyed the ground with vigilant care.
“It lurks yet.” Jax glanced at me. “It moves like dappled brook.”
“What does this thing want?” Rehl swept the clearing, his eyes on the tree line.
“It is feckless. It is empty hunger.” Jax paced around the clearing and continually tapped the ground with one bare foot, as if he checked the forest floor for pit traps. “Musket-shot may only bring rage, not death.”
“Okay.” Rehl sounded uncertain. “So, the gun isn’t as valuable as I hoped.”
“It drinks sweet marrow.” He gazed at Baxter and Alicia. “Also, glamour’s shine.” He turned toward me.
“I am pretty glamourous,” I muttered.
“Flee now.” Jax turned away from us, focused again on the ground. “It waits uncertain of iron’s teeth.”
“That’s not part of the module, buddy.” Rehl glanced at me, the Beretta poised. “What’s the play, Miss Lawson?”
“We need answers, Jax.” In a flash of inspiration, I turned and stared at Baxter and Alicia.
“Ab’riel.” I smiled as I knew full well I’d mangled the Name. “I need you.”
Silvery brilliance blossomed on Alicia’s brow. In that light, I watched as the hazel of her eyes faded into mystique light.