by J. E. Taylor
Her heart jumped into her throat at the sound of the front door below, and the stumbling that followed had her shuffling to the window. She had climbed out it once on a dare from Herk and nearly broke her leg. But she hadn’t been as tall as she was now. She’d have to toss the backpack out of range before she jumped out. Otherwise, she would break her leg.
Rushing, she pushed the window open, unclipped the backpack, and heaved it out the window. It sailed far enough away to not impede her drop from the sill once she got outside.
Herk’s footsteps reached the stairs, and she could hear him murmuring but didn’t wait to find out what he was saying.
Her heart drummed in her chest, and she threw her leg out of the window and turned, sliding her other leg out as she gripped the sill with her gloved hands. The moment she slid out the window, her door opened. She didn’t wait. She lowered herself to her full length and let go.
Herk’s hand slammed down on hers, pinning her in place. He glared down at her from her window. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked with breath that stank like a brewery.
Lisa tried to wiggle her hand free as he reached out with his other hand. She swatted it away and curled her fingers so his grip would slide off her glove. Just like that, the fabric slipped off her hand, and she was freefalling to the ground.
Herk’s face disappeared from the window, and then she hit the ground, stumbling back onto her ass. She stood on shaking legs and grabbed her backpack in an all-out run towards the woods. If Herk caught her, she knew what he would do. She saw enough in his drunken eyes.
His lumbering footsteps crunched the snow behind her.
“If I catch you, you will regret saying no to me!” His growling voice echoed off the snow.
A yank on her backpack jerked her, and she glanced back at Herk. He had a strap in his hand and an insane smile like he had just caught the brass ring at the fair.
She let go of the pack and put everything she had into running as fast as she could. She was sure it wasn’t just her virtue on the line. If he caught her, that was not the only thing he would do to her.
She didn’t stop once she breached the forest. She dodged the tree branches and hurdled over the low bushes. Her heart thundered in her chest and her breath wheezed.
Still, he came after her, sounding like a wrecking ball taking on the forest. She darted to her right and slid beneath a prickly thistle bush. Covering her mouth, she forced herself to breathe as shallowly as she could.
Herk barreled by her, but his pace slowed down to a stop a few hundred feet away, illuminated by a patch of moonlight. He circled around looking at the pristine snow surrounding him.
A bitter wind rustled through the trees, blowing the snow around and covering her slide under the bush. It was almost as if the gods didn’t want Herk to find her either.
“I will hunt you down, Lisa,” he shouted. “And when I do, I am not taking no for an answer. Do you understand me?”
She shivered but remained silent as he stomped his way back to the edge of the woods.
“And if the white tiger gets you, I will not mourn your loss,” he added.
The crunching snow became more distant with every step away from the woods. It wasn’t until she heard the door slam that she let out a breath and crawled out from under the bush.
She had nothing. No sleeping sack. No clothes beyond what was on her back, and no weapons. And she couldn’t go back to the house to try to retrieve her bow from the shed like she had planned to do before she snuck away.
She was on her own, weaponless, and her pocket wasn’t going to keep her ungloved hand warm enough in the whipping wind. She stood on shaking legs and headed away from the house. It was the only direction where she had a slim chance of surviving the night unscathed.
Chapter 7
The night blanketed Lisa in heavy doubt. She had used Herk’s footprints to the clearing, but she knew his tracking skills. No matter how much the wind blew, she knew he would eventually find her. She just hoped she wouldn’t run into a bear or a pack of wolves in the meantime.
She dragged a tree branch she found behind her to try to obscure her footprints, which was fine in the woods, but now that she was in an open meadow, there was no hiding the path she took.
That itch between her shoulders started in again, and she spun, scanning the woods for the owner. She prayed it wasn’t Herk because she didn’t have the strength or speed, even with the head start, to reach the other side of the tundra to make it to the safety of the woods.
Nothing but the wind.
She took a deep breath and slowly let it out as she did one last sweep of the woods behind her. When nothing out of the ordinary happened, she turned back to her destination.
Trudging through the heavy snow slowed her down, and when she finally made it to the woods, she glanced back towards town. The path she’d crossed was no longer visible. She glanced at the branch. It had served her well covering her tracks, and it might provide her some sticks if she could find a rock to shave the ends. Her survival depended on her having something to defend herself with.
It might not be against the wildlife either.
She needed to reach the catacombs of shallow caves and find one to protect her from the unrelenting wind. Her entire body ached, and she needed to hunker down and get some rest before sunrise came.
She let the woods swallow her. The snow thinned here because the canopy was so thick, and not even the moon penetrated. She slowed and closed her eyes to try to let them adjust. If it weren’t for the snow blown in from the tundra reflecting some ambient light, she wouldn’t even be able to see the trees.
She picked up her pace, trying to recall the route through the trees. The only sound was the crunch of her boots and the brush dragging behind her. She prayed it was enough to keep the predators away.
Just as she reached the clearing with the caves in sight, rustling behind her stopped her in her tracks. She slowly turned, changing the grip on the tree branch to bring it up like a stickball bat at her shoulder. As silently as possible, she backed away from the woods under the bright light of the full moon. Each crunch of snow was as loud as a branch snapping and she cringed.
Above her frantic heartbeat drumming in her ears, she heard low growls. Whatever was on the hunt was not a single beast. If she ran, she would be brought down like a wild antelope. She continued her retreat, and after a dozen steps, eyes peered out from the dark forest. She gripped the branch tighter and gulped down her fear.
“Well, don’t just hide in the woods. If you’re going to attack, attack,” she snarled and checked her footing to make sure she would get a full sweep with her makeshift weapon.
The lead wolf stepped out from the shadows with his lips drawn back from his deadly canines. Then a half dozen more fanned out on either side of the alpha, all snarling just as harshly.
If they attacked as one, she was doomed. Her chest tightened, and she dared to take a step back, and then another, and another. With each step, she reset her grip on the branch. They advanced at an equal pace, fanning out even more.
She knew the drill. She had seen wolves take down a moose before. These bastards were trying to get behind her, and then they would attack.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move. She swung towards it, but nothing was there. She swung the branch wide as she turned back to face the wolves, and they jumped back.
A ball of heat formed in the pit of her stomach, and her breath quickened. The wolf to her left launched, and she swung the branch again, giving it everything she had. The crack of wood against bone filled the air, followed by a sharp yelp. The branch snapped in half, leaving her with a piece that was shorter than her arm, making her even more vulnerable to their attack.
It was as if the pack sensed her mounting fear. Another wolf rushed forward. When she swung, it grabbed the end of the broken branch between its teeth and yanked it right out of her grip. Now she was defenseless against the pack.
She backed away and splayed her hands in front of her. “Easy now,” she said, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. Her heartbeat ran wild.
That shadow in the corner of her eye crept close enough that she couldn’t ignore it. She pulled her gaze away from the wolves and froze in place at the sight before her. A beautiful and terrifying white tiger approached on silent paws, but his gaze was not on her. It was focused on the wolves.
She looked back in time to see the alpha launch at her.
Light, hot and deadly, flared from both her palms, blinding her. The magic she did not believe she possessed shot forth like a flame thrower, turning the wolf to dust before he reached her. It blasted from her as if she were a human bomb, depleting every drop of energy she had.
When the light faded, a wave of dizziness took hold. She took an unsteady step, trying to blink away the white spots dotting her vision.
“Damn,” she whispered, and then darkness fell over her with the force of a falling anvil.
Chapter 8
Lisa woke with a start, disoriented by the gray walls and the small fire burning near her. But it was the skinned squirrel slowly roasting over the flames that made her sit up straight. Another wave of dizziness hit, and she nearly collapsed again.
A soft chuff came from her right. She jolted, spinning around to an entry of a cave. Lying in the snow like a sentinel guarding her was the famed white tiger. His blue eyes remained locked on hers for a moment before he looked back out at the dawn-streaked sky.
She did not understand how she got here, or even how she’d started a fire and obtained a meal with no weapons, never mind skinned and impaled it on a stick.
She huffed. The tiger obviously wasn’t capable of doing these things. Lisa looked around for any indication someone else had been here. Footprints. Clothing. Anything. But there were no signs of her benevolent savior.
She glanced between the fire and the sentry, unnerved. This was the beast attacking her town. Targeting the weak. She shook her head, bothered by the dichotomy of that versus the silent sentry posted at the entrance. Such a heinous beast surely would have killed her when she was unconscious. But instead, he was... protecting her?
He glanced back at her, his blue eyes shining bright in the low light. It was almost as if his eyes were human. They held kindness. Those were not the eyes of a killer.
Troubled, she focused on the food. Delicately, she removed the cooked squirrel and waited until it cooled enough to peel a piece off. The meat inside was tender and juicy, and after her first tentative bite, she devoured the entire thing until there were only bones and sinew left. She tossed it all in the fire and leaned back against the wall.
She stared at her hands. Had she produced magic? Or had it been a trick of her imagination?
The tiger chuffed as if she had spoken aloud, but he did not look her way. His ears twitched at something outside, and he stood facing the morning light letting it bathe his beautifully fierce face. His fur reflected oranges and pinks as the sun rose into the day. When he stretched, his lithe form stirred something deep inside Lisa.
It was as if the wild beast was speaking to her soul. The language was unfamiliar though. Still, the warmth inside her had nothing to do with the embers of the fire. It was as foreign to her as this predicament.
She climbed to her feet. Her legs shook, and she wasn’t sure if it was weakness or nerves. Normally, she would run in the opposite direction of danger, but she couldn’t help the draw pulling her toward the tiger.
He stood from his stretch and turned his head towards her, following her as she approached but he showed no signs of aggression. When she stepped beside him, she looked out over the valley. Her gaze drew to the woods, and she gasped at the blackened landscape. A half-moon of devastation had imprinted on the land. Even the snow hadn’t blown over it. It was as if the blast had killed the wind.
“Did I do that?” she asked.
The tiger nodded his head as he chuffed at her.
“Holy...” Her legs gave out, and she fell to her knees, woozy. She held her hands out and stared at them. “I’ve never...” She couldn’t think clearly enough to form a coherent sentence.
As much as she hated to admit it, Herk had been right, although it took a near-death experience to unlock the magic. She wiped her face, still staring at the blackened land.
“And you saved me from the wolves?”
The tiger shook his head. Very slowly. When his gaze fell on her she shivered at the hardness reflected in the blue of his eyes. He looked back at the scar on the land and poked his chin out before his gaze returned to hers. He stretched out on the ground next to her, his regal head held high as if he knew she was in awe of him.
She reached out and touched his silky fur. Just the connection filled her with warmth and stole her breath. His eyes closed, and he chuffed softly, almost like a purr. Her duty to kill this beautiful creature did not sit well.
“Did you kill a villager down there?” She pointed towards Opal in the distance.
He shook his head and glanced at her. There was a horror lit in his eyes that didn’t belong on a tiger’s face. Deep down where that warmth lit her soul, she knew the tiger was telling the truth.
Which meant there was some other evil plaguing the town. Something so heinous that they blamed the filthy lore. Lies passed on from generation to generation fueled someone’s homicidal tendencies.
Who would do such a thing?
She didn’t have an answer, but she needed one, even if it meant having to deal with Herk again. But she would wait until the sun was high enough in the sky that the town was awake and active. Otherwise, she might end up locked somewhere as Herk’s plaything.
“I need to go back,” she said, even though that chilled the warmth right out of her bones.
He leaned his big tiger head into her and rubbed her with his jaw, nearly knocking her over.
She climbed to her feet, and he stood as well.
“You can’t go. They’ll kill you.” She knew the townsfolk too well. If she walked into town with the white tiger by her side, they would shoot him on sight, and she didn’t know what they would do to her.
At least this way, she could fight for him without putting either of them in danger.
“I will return. I promise,” she said and gently patted the tiger.
She wanted to figure out what this draw was all about and why when the tiger had shown up, her magic flared as if the door holding it in place had been ripped off by a twister.
Chapter 9
The trek back to Opal was uneventful in comparison to the night before. The tiger had followed her into the woods, but at the entry to the tundra, she pointed back towards the caves.
“Stay. Please. I do not want to be responsible for you getting hurt.” She waited until he had slunk out of sight before she headed across the snow without worrying about covering her tracks like she had the night before. If Herk was waiting for her, there was nothing she could do except fight.
She stepped out of the woods a little south of where Herk’s house was. The quiet hit her. Usually by the time the sun was this high, the town was busy with the noises of living. She bypassed the Caniculas’ house and walked down the middle of the street.
It wasn’t until she got to her friend Molly’s house that the hushed whispers from the back reached her ears. The pattern of too many footprints pulled her along, and when she rounded the corner, a small crowd had gathered around another body. Her brain stalled at the bloody snow and the red-stained animal prints.
She gasped. “Molly,” she whispered as she stared at the body of her friend.
Constable Jones turned towards her with his hat tipped farther back than normal. His jaw was tight and his eyes suspicious.
“When?” she asked, still unable to draw a complete breath. Her only friend left in this godforsaken town was dead. Slaughtered like an innocent lamb. She drew a painful inhale of frigid air and tried to plow through the confusion clouding her mind.
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br /> Could the tiger that protected her really have done this? Horror, loss, and building anguish crested inside her. It didn’t help that Herk was eyeing her from across the yard, and she couldn’t quite bring herself to make eye contact, either. She knew the moment she did, the stinging tears she was holding back would escape.
“She had gotten up to feed her animals before work and never came back in,” Constable Jones said.
Molly worked the early shift. She always got there just as the sky was painted with the sunrise. If that were the case, Lisa’s tiger couldn’t have done it because he was keeping watch over her in the cave. She swallowed the bile lining her throat and looked closer at the kill site.
“You need to stop this tiger before he kills again,” Herk said from the other side of the crowd.
“How do you know it was the tiger?” she asked, still looking at the snow all around them.
Herk, along with Constable Jones, pointed at the tracks surrounding Molly. They were clearly tiger tracks, but she hadn’t seen a sign of paw prints leaving the town, never mind a path of blood that was sure to stain the snow for at least a few feet. But outside of the prints around the body, there was no visible sign of exit, not even in the trampled path she had come on.
“Where are the footprints coming in or going out?” She waved at the snow in the backyard. The only pawprints were around her dead friend. “Did the tiger drop from the sky and then fly away?” She dared to send a sideways glare at Herk.
Red bloomed in his cheeks. “Lisa wasn’t at the house at all this morning, and her bed didn’t look like she even slept in it.”
Anger surfaced. How dare he try to pin this on her.
She crossed her arms. “First it was the tiger who did this? Now you’re trying to pin this on me?”
“Where were you?” Constable Jones asked, which given his job, made sense since he was investigating the death, but the fact Herk had put that seed of doubt there irked her.