Once Upon a Quest

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Once Upon a Quest Page 20

by Anthea Sharp


  Jamie focuses on getting into the minds and hearts of her characters, whether she’s writing about a man who discovers the barista he’s in love with is a naiad, a saloon girl in the American West, or a ghost who haunts the house she was killed in—even though that house no longer exists.

  Jamie lives in Colorado, and spends her free time in a futile quest to wear out her two border collies since she hasn’t given in and gotten them their own herd of sheep.

  Visit her at https://jamieferguson.com/ and don’t forget to join her newsletter~

  Blow Your House Down

  Nikki Jefford

  The fall of civilization came in stages until only three types of humans remained: shapeshifters, wizards, and barbarians.

  Taking their cue from the shifters, a coven of thirty-seven wizards took to the wilderness to start a new life. As they journeyed away from the crumbling city and disease-riddled suburbs, they happened upon an abandoned horse stable.

  Most of the stalls were empty, though several contained the stinking carcasses of the poor wretches that had starved to death. Only one horse remained standing, a gray filly with an inky tail and mane, who had been enclosed in a pen outside and managed to rip open a bag of feed. They named her Delphi.

  “We will rest here,” said their coven leader, Beatrice.

  There was much grumbling, for the stable was a far cry from the luxuries they’d once known, but the travelers were weary and although they could perform magic, none had the power to create shelter from thin air.

  And so they cleaned the stalls and made beds of straw on which to lay their heads at night.

  The stable looked out over rolling hills, dotted by the bushy green tops of forest trees. The scenery had a way of lulling their minds from the horrors to befall mankind.

  “We must start anew and never look back,” came Beatrice’s sage advice.

  None among their coven understood this better than Beatrice’s son, Lazarus who, at twenty-four, was a tall, handsome young man with deep green eyes. He was the most gifted wizard in their coven, popular among his peers and elders for his confidence and manners.

  While he had eyes that were easily caught by the ladies, his heart beat true.

  Weeks after they’d made the stable into a temporary home, a pretty blond named Cecilia took to flirting with Lazarus and soon they were rolling in the hay together every chance they managed to steal away.

  Lazarus wasn’t reckless, he remembered to perform a protection spell that would prevent unwanted offspring. For all his mother’s talk of starting anew, he didn’t want to bring a child into a devastated world until they had settled into a proper home.

  As the weeks passed, and their noses adjusted to the barn smell, a sense of ease began to spread. They found fishing poles in a shed and were able to catch river trout from a nearby brook. At a neighboring farmhouse, they discovered stockpiles of canned and dried foods, clothing, bedding, and even card games to entertain their minds.

  Spirits had never been higher since fleeing the city.

  But Beatrice shook her head and said, “It will not last.”

  It was she who first took note of fall’s hints with its dry leaves scraping against the rocky paths, cartwheeling in the wind. She waited until morning to make her announcement.

  “We cannot continue to live this way. We must find a safe and sturdy home deep in the forest and the mountains beyond.”

  There came an uproar from her coven. Those who had complained loudest when they first settled at the stable now clamored to stay.

  “We have food and shelter here.”

  “Let the human barbarians try to take it from us. We are wizards. We will strike them all down.”

  “Coven rules—” Beatrice began before she was interrupted.

  “No longer apply. It’s a new world and we can’t afford to hide our powers.”

  At least a dozen in their coven nodded.

  “Survival of the fittest,” some said.

  Lazarus chuckled and stepped forward.

  “Will we succumb to barbarism as easily as the last surviving humans?” he asked.

  Beatrice flashed her son a proud and grateful smile.

  “We cannot go rushing into the unknown,” came a sullen reply.

  “Then I will,” Lazarus proclaimed, looking each coven member in the face. “And once I find a permanent home for us all to live, I will return to lead you there.”

  Cecilia gasped beside him, straw still stuck to her rumpled clothes.

  “Don’t leave me, Lazarus,” she begged.

  “I will return,” he said with a fond smile aimed at her. With long, gentle fingers, he plucked a piece of hay from her hair and tucked it inside his pocket as though it were a locket of her golden hair.

  Seeing this, Beatrice frowned for a heartbeat before schooling her expression.

  “I do not wish for my son to journey alone,” she said. “Kate and Lillian will accompany him.”

  When Cecilia gave a sob, Beatrice leveled a cool gaze at her.

  “You may go with them, too, Cecilia.”

  “Me?” the blond witch whimpered, eyes darting to Lazarus. “I am too delicate for such a journey.”

  “Then stay.” Kate’s voice cut through the gathering like an axe.

  All heads turned to admire the tall, athletic brunette who had once been a peer leader to their youngest coven members.

  The crowd began to nod.

  Here was a strong young woman fit for a journey into the wilderness.

  When Kate swaggered over to Lazarus, Cecilia shrank back, stepping aside with a pout on her pink lips.

  After Kate took her place beside Lazarus, all eyes slowly turned to Lillian, a witch with rust-colored hair and soulful gray eyes. Her parents and little sister clustered against her as though to guard Lillian from notice.

  Kate huffed. “She can stay behind. She’ll only slow us down.”

  “No.” That one word fell like a heavy stone that landed in the center of the circle.

  Lillian stepped forward. “I will join this quest and not return until we have found a safe and sturdy home.”

  Beatrice smiled, pleased. “It is settled. Today we will gather supplies for our brave travelers and tomorrow they will set out on their journey to find us a permanent home where we can put down roots.”

  While the coven set to work packing dried food, utensils, and sleeping gear, they wondered aloud why Beatrice had not chosen two young men to accompany her son. But Lazarus knew his mother well and realized this was not only a voyage of discovery, but a quest of the heart.

  His mother wanted him to choose a bride.

  Cecilia had failed the first test. A weak-willed woman would not do to become his forever. Pulling the flimsy piece of straw from his pocket, he flicked it away and let it drift to the ground.

  Unlike Cecilia, Kate was daring, brave, and strong. The younger wizards all looked up to her. She was a natural-born leader, and so was Lazarus. Could they lead together, or would they butt heads? He would find out soon enough.

  It did not take long to pack saddlebags and backpacks for there was only so much they could carry. All the while, Lillian’s family stuck together like tightly wedged stones that had to be pried apart, crying the next morning and hugging Lillian as though she would never return.

  “Oh, brother,” Kate said with an eye roll.

  She already had her pack strapped on and looked repeatedly at the woods like a squirrel ready to dart up a tree.

  After assuring her family one last time that she would be back, Lillian tore away from their embrace and grasped hold of her backpack.

  “You can ride Delphi first,” Lazarus offered kindly.

  She nodded gratefully and, after she’d slipped on her pack, Lazarus helped her into the first stirrup, holding Delphi steady as Lillian swung her leg over the horse’s back and settled into the saddle.

  “Take care of our daughter,” Lillian’s father called.

  “And take care of my
son,” Beatrice said.

  They traveled north toward the mountains, crossing dry riverbeds and trickling streams that flowed easier the deeper they ventured into the forest. The ground shifted beneath their feet, sloping upward and downward, but never quite even. They took precautions by avoiding paved roads—forging their own path through thick trees rooted to the ground like sentries.

  During the trek, Kate did most of the talking.

  “It’s not the future we imagined, but look on the bright side—no bills to pay.”

  “No student loans,” Lazarus chimed in.

  “No school at all.” Kate laughed.

  “I would have liked to finish college,” Lillian said.

  Kate glared at her. “A degree won’t help you out here. You gotta toughen up and accept things the way they are.”

  After that Lillian stayed quiet, only speaking when offering a turn riding Delphi, though Lazarus and Kate declined. They were in top shape and didn’t tire as easily as Lillian.

  On the third day of their journey, they came upon a pack of wolf shifters who had built small log cabins overlooking a shimmering lake at least a mile wide.

  As they approached, the shifters transformed into their animal forms and ran at the travelers, snarling and snapping their sharp fangs.

  From atop her steed, Lillian recited a swift incantation, erecting an invisible barrier around herself and her companions. Growls turned to yips as the wolves slammed against the hidden wall. Once they realized there was no getting through, they shifted one by one into human form and stood before the travelers, naked.

  The oldest of the shapeshifters, a man of about sixty, stepped forward.

  “Humans are not welcome here.”

  “Ah, but as you can see, we are wizards,” Lazarus said, circling his hand around the invisible barrier.

  The elder wolf shifter’s hardened expression did not change. “Wizards are not welcome, either.”

  Smiling, Lazarus arched one eyebrow. “Not even a wizard who can turn water into wine?”

  Murmurs arose from the shifters standing behind their leader, but eventually they quieted and looked to the elder to respond.

  Keeping a close watch on Lazarus, the elder instructed one of his packmates to fetch him a cup of water. Soon a cup was brought forward.

  Lazarus looked at Lillian and gave a slight nod. Whispering a counterspell as she dropped her arms, the invisible wall was no more.

  “Prove that you can turn water into wine and you may stay the night,” the elder spoke.

  Rolling up his sleeves for grand effect, Lazarus stepped forward, his teeth lining up as he brandished a smile of victory before his finger ever touched the cup.

  One touch, no words, was all it took for the water to turn burgundy.

  The elder lifted the cup to his lips, sniffed, and took his first swallow. His eyes fluttered closed and he inhaled deeply, a grin softening his wrinkled face.

  “They may stay the night,” he announced, passing the cup to the second-oldest shifter who took a sip and then passed it on. “You chose a fortuitous evening, wizard, for tonight we are celebrating a claiming ceremony and we have caught a large deer for the occasion.”

  Lazarus’s mouth watered for he had not eaten fresh meat in months.

  “Come, I will show you to my daughter’s cabin. She and her mate will stay with me tonight so you will have a place to rest,” the elder said.

  The cabin was small, but it was furnished with a wooden bed frame, shelves, and two log stools.

  Stopping in front of an open window overlooking the lake, Lazarus rubbed his chin.

  “These cabins are much nicer than barn stables and conveniently built beside water.”

  Kate frowned. “What about the wolves?”

  Lazarus’s eyes gleamed in the fading light.

  “I’m sure that with enough incentive we could reach an agreement,” he said.

  “Or you could call up a storm,” Kate countered, sidling up to Lazarus. She wound her arm around his. “Tell them to leave or suffer your wrath—show them the great Lazarus is not to be underestimated.”

  Lazarus couldn’t help puffing out his chest when Kate spoke with such genuine admiration. When their eyes met, a spark shot through him and traveled to his groin.

  Lillian cleared her throat. “Before we decide to divide and conquer, perhaps we should learn more about our generous hosts.”

  Pulling away from Lazarus, Kate huffed.

  “They’re savages. What more is there to know? They can change form and build a new community someplace else.”

  Lazarus nodded. “In their animal form they have no need for cabins, but we will be courteous guests and deliberate in the morning.”

  * * *

  That night, as the horizon swallowed the sun, and the stars flickered to life, a great bonfire raged on the edge of the lake where the travelers joined the wolf shifters. The heady scent of roasting meat thickened the air and soon filled their stomachs. To the delight of the shifters, Lazarus turned their cups of water to wine and even whisky when requested.

  At the end of the meal, several shifters began playing flutes, beating drums, and strumming old guitars. The audience gave a loud “whoop” and a male and female emerged, their naked bodies painted from head to foot in mud with wavy patterns, lines, and dots. They dipped and twirled to the beat of the drum, coming close to one another, but never touching.

  Kate’s eyes expanded while Lillian watched with polite interest. Lazarus stared transfixed as firelight danced over the couple’s bodies, drawing them in and spreading heat over those who watched. The flames beckoned him to remove his clothes and join in the dance, but he kept his place seated on a log between Kate and Lillian.

  The naked female flashed past, her hips swaying like flames as the male pursued her in a continual chase around the fire.

  “Claim her, you fool,” came a drunken holler that was followed by laughter.

  The large, muscular male who had been dancing grinned wolfishly and caught the female’s arm. He drew her to him and bit her neck then she whipped around and did the same to his shoulder.

  Cheers arose. Kate folded her arms and Lillian clapped gently.

  The female lowered herself to her hands and knees beside the fire while the male dropped to his knees behind her.

  Kate hissed in dismay, but Lazarus’s eyes were glued to the two gyrating bodies rocking back and forth in ecstasy. Shifters left their logs to dance around the fire. Several couples joined the mated pair on the ground, removing their clothes to hump their partners beneath the bright moon. Kate jumped to her feet and stormed away. Reluctantly, Lazarus stood and followed her to the cabin where he found her pacing the cramped confines, wringing her fingers.

  “They’re no better than animals!” she exclaimed.

  “How else are they to amuse themselves?” Lazarus countered. “Few pleasures remain… Internet porn is no longer an option.” He chuckled.

  Kate came to an abrupt halt, yanked a pillow off the bed, and threw it at him.

  “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? I saw the way you were watching them. Men,” she huffed.

  Lazarus smirked and shrugged.

  Like wisps of smoke, the edges of Kate’s lips curled into a smile. She turned around and spread her arms over the edge of the bed.

  “Is this what excites you, Lazarus?” Her voice turned sultry. “Is this how you like it?”

  Fresh images of the mated wolf shifters pounded inside Lazarus’s head and throbbed between his legs. Seeing Kate bent over in invitation was more than he could resist. A protection spell rushed through his lips as he unfastened his pants. He took her fast, before Lillian had a chance to walk in on them.

  Later that night, while Lillian slept, Lazarus and Kate snuck into the forest to couple several times more. Twigs and leaf debris clung to Kate’s shirt and deep brown tresses. As she brushed it off, Lazarus plucked a tiny twig from her hair and slipped it inside his pocket.

  T
hey returned to the tiny cabin, tiptoeing inside. Lazarus slept on the blankets on the floor, while Kate and Lillian shared the bed.

  Early in the morning, the winds blew in like a rushing river. The floorboards trembled, the cabin walls shook, and each successive gust pounded on the roof as though the very devil had come knocking.

  There came a loud creak followed by a whoosh as a heavy mass plummeted toward the little cabin the wizards tossed and turned within. An enormous tree split through the roof as though it were an axe and the cabin were kindling.

  Kate screamed as it fell between her and Lazarus, narrowly missing their bodies, but as she reflexively reached out a hand to stop it, the rough bark swiped her arm, battering her bones as it landed.

  Tears oozed from Kate’s eyes as she whimpered and cried.

  Leaping to their feet, Lazarus and Lillian asked if she was okay.

  “My arm,” Kate sobbed, “it’s broken.”

  Sniffling, she looked at the bruised arm danglingly by her side.

  “You must return to the stable and see my mother,” said Lillian, whose mom was their best healer. “Take Delphi.”

  Kate looked to Lazarus with watery eyes that silently beseeched him to return with her, but the quest could not be abandoned. Kate next looked at Lillian, whose soulful eyes turned steely in their resolve.

  After the winds died at daybreak, Lillian found a long, curved piece of bark in the storm’s debris that she fashioned into a cast from Kate’s elbow to her wrist and secured with a short length of rope. She used an extra shirt to make a sling to hold Kate’s arm steady.

  After a breakfast of roast squirrel, courtesy of their shapeshifting hosts, Lazarus helped Kate onto Delphi and sent her off with enough food to last the three-day return journey to the stables.

  Disappointment heavy in his heart, Lazarus watched Kate ride the way they’d come until one by one the trees blocked her from view. He plucked the twig from his pocket and broke it in half, letting the pieces fall to the ground.

  Bidding the wolf shifters goodbye, Lazarus and Lillian set off for the mountains on foot. Few words were exchanged as they trekked through the forest, wading across shallow rivers and streams until they reached the base of a mountain and began the upward hike.

 

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