The Witch (Dragon Eyes Book 1)

by Kristina Hlaváčková

  Materializing out of thin air directly in front of him she landed in a catlike crouch. Ashkent stopped so abruptly, his hooves carved deep gashes into the turf and his rear almost touched the ground. He snorted in surprise. Elena made that one step dividing them, and hugged him happily around the neck. She untangled from his mane just in time to see a saddle and an untidy bundle skip to a halt in front of her. When they stopped, a bunch of tiny legs clad in hobnailed boots was visible underneath them.

  It was an unusual evening. Suddenly she had all her things and best of all, she was not alone. Ashkent was very sweet and welcome company. And then, of course, they were here. Othar. Elena watched them with interest. Willie was the most noticeable of them all, probably because he was the one who talked to her the most. They all looked very bareknuckle. Or at least, they tried to appear so. As a matter of fact they were all quite shy, but curious even more.

  At first, Elena thought them to be arguing all the time, but later realized it was more of a bickering way of communication rather than a real argument. The whole gang seemed to be amusing themselves with it. The moment they thought she wasn’t looking, one of them would draw nearer to examine her more closely. Whenever she moved, they scattered, as if afraid of her. That evening, she made a little, well-hidden fire and cooked dinner for them all.

  Othar surprised her by eating so much. Far more than she had expected. Listening to their live bickering, she tried to understand them. Soon she found that she apprehended most words. Although that, of course, was not a guarantee of success, because the word combination didn’t always make sense. Othar used the vocabulary of several languages. Actually, she even noticed some Berber words. At least she thought so. The problem was they refused to communicate with her directly. Whenever she asked something, they began to shout each other down. This could be stopped only when Willie either silenced them and began to interpret, or they pushed him forward to do so.

  And they called her Gammer. How charming! If she concentrated on one of them, he yelped and tried to hide or disappear. Willie was the only one who spoke directly to her, which obviously made him proud of himself.

  While Willie told her the epic story of the Othar stealing her stuff and weaving their way through the forest with them bugrid big horsie, she twined a halter for Ashkent.

  “Be bugrid big horsie. No hide proper! No fit in burrow,” Willie complained. She smiled at him. The halter was finished; she put it down and rubbed her eyes. Fatigue was getting the upper hand. Carefully, she began to pull twigs out of the fire, until she reduced it to only a few tiny flames. Bidding the Othar good night, Elena snuggled under her blanket, falling asleep before she could get properly comfortable. One by one, the flames died, veiling the lying figure in velvety darkness. Othar watched her intensely. When Willie was sure she was asleep, he issued a command and several manikins disappeared into the forest so fast, dust under their feet didn’t even have lift. The rest of them silently settled down to rest around Elena.

  Elena was looking forward to showing them to Michael. They were unbelievable. Even though they got under her feet most of the time, they were unbelievable. She didn’t need to run anymore, and everything looked somewhat merrier from Ashkent’s saddle. Ashkent was happy they were finally together again; she could feel it. Othar ran all around them, sometimes getting under Ashkent’s hoofs. Surprisingly, he managed not to trot on anyone.

  While looking for the path that would lead her through the Black Wood, she had to concentrate on hiding her tracks. Sometimes she even applied magic, since it was essential to use as many ways to cover up her tracks as possible. Leaving any kind of pattern behind her was as bad as leaving hoof prints or footprints, since it was unlikely the elves would overlook something like that. After a while she noticed that the Othar were helping her, getting rid of what little she left behind. Admittedly, their skill was masterful.

  ◆◆◆

  This was not a good idea! Elena proved to be a master at hiding her tracks. More and more search parties were crisscrossing the forest, spreading considerably. Ironically, this was what had given Michael a chance to slip away, but he was scared he might lead them to her. While Elena’s tactics were distance first, hiding second, he tried to hide his tracks immediately. Well, to be honest, he started doing so even while still among the search party. Since he was not sure he was capable of passing through it by himself, he had to meet Elena before she entered Black Wood. Not that he liked the idea of her passing through it alone, either. It was going to be quite an effort not to kick her butt, once he found her. If he found her. Enough! He had to concentrate. It would have been much simpler had he known where Wilbur was. That ruddy dragon made him nervous. Probably it was because he was beginning to like the beast while still not really sure what to think of him.

  The Black Wood. He reached it by twilight and was glad to have been told so much about this part of the forest, because the Wood glimmered. In its very eerie way, it was beautiful, the paths showing between the trees, alluring. Something was drawing him into the forest, calling him, tempting him. Suddenly he realized he was prompting his horse towards the path. He caught himself. Or was it truly him who stopped? After all, Kran was one of the wise Berber warhorses and definitely did not like this part of the forest, bucking the moment they neared the strange trees. For a moment, Michael just sat his saddle, leaning on the pommel, watching night fall. After a while, he turned Kran away. The Wood might be luring him into its midst, but the idea of spending the night at its edge was definitely all but alluring.

  ◆◆◆

  None of the many paths he had found was the right one, though the Black Wood kept tempting him into its magically beautiful midst. Michael dismounted and led Kran by the reins. According to what Elena had told him, the path should be somewhere around here. Elena should be somewhere around here. Finally, he spotted the magical sign he was looking for, but Elena was nowhere to be seen. Where the heck was the kid? She promised him she would wait for him here. Moreover, he had an uneasy feeling someone was watching him. It made him jumpy. With that weird Wood in the vicinity, he could hardly be sure of anything. He dared not think about something bad happening to Elena. Leaving Kran to graze, he sat on piece of bedrock sticking out of the grass.

  The rock he sat on grunted and murmured: “Can’t you sit somewhere else?”

  Michael freaked. In one smooth motion he jumped up and away, pulled out his swords and turned. What until now seemed to be part of the bedrock began to shift shape and color, changing into the form of a little girl.

  “What the …” he yelped. Elena laughed with a happy ringing laughter and gave him a joyful hug. She moved so fast, he hardly had time to withdraw his swords. With her arms around his neck, he embraced her, really happy to see her. Well, he did not see her as such. While clinging to him she exclaimed how great it was to be together again. Michael sheathed his sword. Grabbing her by the waist, he lifted her and stood her at arm’s length to get a better look at her.

  Bouncing on her heals with hands behind her back, she grinned at him. Michael examined her closely. One of her shirt shoulders was obviously freshly repaired. Fresh, mostly healed scars showed on her cheek, neck and hands. Though she looked a lot thinner than he remembered, her eyes were bright and there was color in her cheeks. It was obvious her little adventure had been a bit of an ordeal, but she looked … well … happy. Seeing her was a relief, but it made him realize how hard it must have been for her. When he’d made sure she was all right, he rapped out: “How did ya’ do that?”

  Elena laughed. “The Bugrids found out I can do it. Whenever I need to, or at night when I fall asleep, I sort of blend with my surroundings, I disappear like. So, I tried it on purpose and it works! Splendid, isn’t it?” the girl explained. Michael gaped at her, trying to understand her rapid speech.

  “Bugrwhat? What are ya’ talking about? Are ya’ all right?” he asked her, baffled.

  “Bugrids. Well, they are the proud and brave Othar warriors, but the
y keep saying bugrid, so I call them Bugrids. I have no clue what bugrid means, it’s like a curse, swear word, exclamation and many other things. Somehow it fits them quite well, so I gave them that name. And the other thing? You know how everyone keeps telling me I have dragon blood? Well, looks like I do. Probably. So that is why I can disappear like that. It works on its own accord somehow, you know?! Even Öron overlooked me and he was looking directly at me.”

  Michael began to consider whether or not had she gone nutty. She grabbed his sleeve and dragged him with her.

  “Stop staring like an oaf! C’mon, I’ll show them to you.” She led him to a little camp hidden between the bushes. Well, with a lot of imagination it looked a bit like a camp. Rather content, Ashkent was grazing here, a saddle and saddlebags were settled by a tree along with a bundle of weapons. Someone had found a few flat rocks and used them for a firebase. Everything was ready for the night, but also settled in a way that enabled a quick departure with basically no trace. Interesting.

  When they neared the camp, the Othar scattered. Elena looked around and frowned.

  “C’mon, come on out! Michael is a friend.” Peering out of the grass here and there, the Bugrids began to appear, looking sheepish. Elena watched them proudly. Michael watched her with growing worry.

  “So, what do you say, now?” she turned to him victoriously.

  “Say to what? Are ya’ sure ya’re all right?” fussed Michael.

  Elena’s smile froze on her lips. What took her aback was more his expression than what he had said. She took a deep breath. With lightning speed, she turned and jumped at something invisible to Michael. Willie squeaked, but had no time to escape. She grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up to eye level. He squirmed, twisted and kicked his legs, trying to get free from the firm grip of her fingers.

  “Willie, stop it! It’s a bad joke. It’s magic, isn’t it? You stole my stuff and brought Ashkent, so you have to be real, not just my imagination. Tell all the others to show themselves. I refuse to be the fool here.” Elena snapped at the manikin.

  “Bugrid! Drop, Gammer!” piped Willie, but she held on. Michael sighed and made a step towards her. Now he was truly afraid for her, because she was commanding her outstretched empty hand. Willie gaped at Elena stubbornly. But as stubbornness went, in Elena Willie found his mach.

  Something moved in Elena’s hand. Michael stopped mid-step, his eyes bulging, his mouth forming a surprised O. Disbelievingly, he watch the camp fill up with tiny, bald, armed to the teeth, tiny brown figures. Elena stood Willie carefully on the ground.

  “Thank you, Willie,” she smiled at the brownie. Then she grinned at Michael.

  “I introduce to you the brave warriors of the Othar nation.”

  ◆◆◆

  It was a wonderful evening. In the hot ashes of a tiny fire, Elena prepared roots she’d found gods knew where. On the flat stones, she roasted thin slices of meet. When she was finished, she let the fire burn to ashes she would disperse tomorrow. The flat stones she would return where she found them, charred side down. No trace of the fire would remain.

  They talked long into the night. She told him all her adventures and in return, he told her his. Elena listened attentively, although most things that happened to him, she already nem, because she had sent the Bugrids to look after him. And there was no need for Michael to know that. Nor did he have to know Othar swept away what few tracks he’d left behind. Besides, his narration made a lot more sense.

  It was Elena who sent them all to bed, announcing that they had to rise early tomorrow. This time she was almost content as she settled under her blanket. Suddenly she did not really mind that her shoulder, leg, and almost her entire body ached. She was tired, but now, when Michael was with her, everything was going to be just fine. The Bugrids were on her mind. How come she could see them, when others could not? Did they simply let her, or was it another of her talents? She was asleep before she could come up with any relevant explanation. Michael watched her. Though he was tired himself, he couldn’t sleep, unnerved by the vicinity of the Black Wood.

  A drop fell on Elena’s ear. She opened one eye, swore, and pulled the canvas over her head. Night was still deep, sunrise was not due for yet another few hours. Quite quickly, she fell asleep again. When she woke up an hour before daybreak, it was raining. Correction, it was pouring. Under the canvas, she managed not only to fold her blanket and draw her coat, but also to stay mostly dry. Michael tried the same trick, but with his size, it was a lot trickier. And louder; she could hear him swearing. Neither of them wasted much time packing, they were quite quick with it. The Black Wood awaited them and it was bucketing down.

  They got on the trail. Outside the Wood sun was rising behind thick clouds, bringing rainy light, but under the branches of the Wood, gloomy dusk persisted. It was getting even darker, as they proceeded further inside. Both Elena and Michael turned their heads several times to look back. Neither was looking forward to the enchanted forest and its traps. Luckily, the roof of the Black Wood was so thick that hardly any rain got through it. Elena tried not to think about what was going to happen when it finally did get through. It was important to stick to the path, and she hoped she had found the right one. If she was wrong, if this was not the proper trail, they were both in a huge mess. The Bugrids abandoned them, refusing to go through the Black Wood. They announced they would meet the children on the other side and disappeared. The whole kit and caboodle of them vanished, before Michael and Elena had time to ask how exactly they would get there. Michael looked at Elena through the veil of rain. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “They can’t fly, so I’m guessing they’ll go underground,” Elena murmured thoughtfully.

  “Through them burrows?” Michael mimicked the sprites.

  “Probably.”

  “I kind of envy them,” Michael complained.

  “Hm. Let’s go then,” decided she. Michael tried to give her a reassuring smile.

  Elena led the way. In the gloom it was far from easy to look for signs and at the same time watch the trail for moving sand and other traps. Still, she tried to watch the surroundings also. Ashkent was restless, but proceeded resolutely. Michael could feel Kran’s tension. They tried to ride as fast as possible. The air was heavy, humid, and seemed to be going through its second round of use.

  Elena began to realize the trees were humming. It was not a quiet whisper of leaves; it was a dark drone of magical charge. It got louder with every step they took. Her fingers began to itch. The hair on the scuff of her neck stood on end. Michael had the very uncomfortable feeling that all his hair was curling and intended to march off him. Elena could have sworn that magical energy was all around her. Her body was telling her that all she had to do was move a finger, and she could do anything. The temptation to try some especially difficult spell grew stronger.

  ◆◆◆

  Something was wrong. Elena seemed to have lost interest in the trail and was sitting her saddle looking as relaxed as if she were on an outing. Michael urged Kran on, to get as close to her as possible. They were deep in the Black Wood by now. The air was getting dense; silence spread around them. That kind of silence you heard before a huge storm.

  “Eli …” he called to her. Elena turned her face to him. The strange, dreamy smile on her lips scared him. And then he looked her in the eye. Except her eyes were not hers. They shone with a strange golden light, a light through which pure darkness was peering out at him from her sockets.

  From the corner of an eye, he noticed them a split second after Elena began to turn sharply. Unbelievably silent shadows were all around them, swinging from branch to branch. Their bodies were huge and hairy, with wide chests and narrow pelvises, extremely short hind legs and muscular arms so long they reached to their ankles. Long tails and Rottweiler like heads with large fangs and red gleaming eyes completed the picture. Since they traversed the distance between them with lighting speed, Michael had very little time to react.

  Elen
a turned in her saddle and lifted an empty hand. Michael jumped and knocked her off the saddle. In a bundle of legs, arms and hooves, they fell into the rotting leaves beside the path, rolling over a few times. Elena turned on her back and with eyes shining with fierce golden light lifted her hand against the approaching monsters. Luckily, he was faster than she, tossing himself onto her, pinning her down with his entire weight, slapping her hand down. With all his might, he hit her face with an opened palm. Elena blinked. For a moment she seemed to freeze, the queer light slowly leaving her eyes.

  A shadow fell on her face, her eyes opened wide with horror. She bucked and threw him off. A knife appeared in her hand as if by magic. He could feel talons seize his shoulder. Teeth aiming for his neck snapped shut, empty. Elena’s knife sunk into black fur, blood poured over her hand. Jerking the blade upward, she tore the beasts belly just in time to stop it from attacking her. Michael fell, rolled and jumped up with swords in his both hands. One of them whipped through air and smashed into a face that from Michael’s point of view consisted only of stinking teeth. Elena threw the motionless body off herself, and jumped to her feet with sword in one hand, bloody knife in the other.

  As the children managed to stand back to back, the beasts dropped from the trees all around them like stinking furry rain. From time to time, a yelp could be heard between their strange barks and roars, whenever the monsters got close to Ashkent’s or Kran’s hooves.

  Stab, slash, turn, duck; they were trying to fight their way to their horses through the furry muscular toothy mass with talons. The space around them was narrowing, or rather, the furry ball around them was growing.