by Rene Folsom
Well, here it goes. Graham is going to tell me how wrong it was of me to mount his Tempie. I know deep down he’s right. But all horses need exercise, right?
Yeah, that’ll be my argument.
“And I think you’re a perfect fit to help us care for and exercise our equine friends.” While I can’t see his face clearly, it’s obvious to me he’s smiling.
I always claim to be the most level-headed woman on this godforsaken continent. But in that moment, all sense of level goes out the window, and I audibly sigh with disbelief.
“So now, Zhavia,” he continues, my name rolling off his lips like melted butter. “Promise me you’re not going to run if I let you go?”
How he’s holding me with his mind is still a mystery to me, I nod even though I’m not one-hundred percent certain I will keep up my end of the bargain.
My mobility returns and I step in the direction of Graham’s voice. To my surprise, Tempie is there, nudging me with her head. I don’t move more than a few steps, my mind still trying to focus on the shadow in the corner that sounds like Graham. My eyesight is not bad, but I still can’t see him or get a detailed visual of him. I realize then I honestly want to see him for more reasons than I care to admit.
As I take another step, Tempie lets out a noise that grabs my attention in an instant.
I turn to address her directly. “What is it, girl?” Langston said to treat her like family. Even with my rudimentary raising, I know it’s rude to talk behind people’s backs.
In response to my inquiry, Tempie shakes her head back and forth, her beautiful mane and single braid shining in the last bit of the sun just before it begins to disappear and the shadows of dusk creeps along the stable floors.
The horse and I stand face to face. I’m confident she sees me, just as much as I see her. She’s smart. She knows her master is present.
However, after a few seconds of our stare down, she sidesteps me and walks back to where the other horses are gathered. When I finally break my gaze from her and turn back around, Graham is no longer in the corner.
Was he ever? Could I have imagined the entire interaction? I didn’t hear him leave.
Langston is long gone. I would be a fool to deny how much his absence is felt. I hope today wasn’t the last time I see the old man. Even if Graham didn’t say it with words, he implied everything would work out for Langston.
I sure as fuck hope so.
Still, I have to snap out of my melancholy thoughts. I don’t want to be late for dinner again and risk losing a chance to clean myself properly. Even the bugs are beginning to notice my smell.
Although the sun hasn’t completely set, I feel like I don’t have time to waste. The stupid side of me still wants to take one last look in the garden, though. If anything, I hope Graham will be there again. Stupid, I know. But what if he can help Langston in some way I’m not capable of?
The least I can do is try.
It was only yesterday since I got myself completely lost in the gardens, but I feel confident I can navigate my way this time.
The thickness in the brush increases with each step I take, and I can feel myself relaxing as my feet land onto the cobblestone path that leads the way through the flowers and bushes.
The leaves and various colors of flowers seem to glow with life as the sun continues to drip lazily toward the horizon. Dusk is probably my favorite time of day because it brings life to an otherwise grueling workday. It’s as if the colors bring back energy to a whole new world we have yet to discover.
Still, it’s hard to see beauty in a world that’s so full of corruption, especially since Langston has been snatched from me long before I ever really got to know him. I wasn’t expecting to make friends. I know I shouldn’t. My only desire is to get away from this place. But in no time at all, the old man has found a crack in my defense, sliding his way in.
I haven’t taken but a few small steps beyond the garden entrance when I feel a blast of heat at my back. While hot, the sensation sends a deep chill through me, igniting my core and freezing me to the spot on the cobblestone path.
It feels like a warning—a warning I have no idea how to heed.
When I finally manage to work up the courage to turn around, no one is there.
Interesting.
I shake it off as nothing more than my imagination and turn back, continuing my exploration of the grounds. But, of course, fate is a fickle beast and I feel the blast of heat again, only this time more intensely than before.
I don’t possess any special abilities, but I do remember a small tidbit my mother taught me many, many years ago—always trust my intuition.
Always.
Right now, my gut is telling me if I take another step, there will be severe consequences. Regardless of my gut, I’m still a dumbass… and my dumbass downplays the risk I’m taking as I dare another step.
Suddenly, it’s like the sun has completely set, darkness overtaking my vision.
A shadow.
A massive shadow.
It’s looming over me, swallowing me whole in its darkness.
Hairs all across my body stand at attention. I am a breathing sea of goose bumps with each passing second.
I was stupid to take a step before, and I’d be even more of a moron to continue.
No. No more braving what is clearly a monster.
I suddenly realize the heat I’ve been feeling is moving around me, almost as if it’s breathing.
The slow inhale and exhale confirms my suspicion—something big is standing behind me, breathing some serious heat and enveloping me with its warmth.
Maybe it’s one of the horses? Maybe it followed me?
Right. Brilliant conclusion.
My limbs are still locked in place, and I’m unsure of what to do next.
Do I dare a peek?
Before I know what’s happening, the shadow rescinds, taking the overwhelming feeling of danger with it. Finally able to breathe, I allow the oxygen to travel through my lips. The sound of my breath is loud.
Slowly, I turn around and wonder if I’m making a big mistake. I don’t have the slightest clue of what I will find, but the temptation is just too much to bear.
Vacant silence.
There’s nothing there.
Nothing but cobblestones covered in the random colors of dusk.
I need to get my shit together. This is ridiculous.
I pull in a deep breath, my nose barely able to accommodate so much oxygen in one sniff, and start to head back to the main house. I really can’t afford to lose another meal.
As I walk, I feel as if something is following me just beyond the tree line. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, and it’s huge. Colossal is a better way to describe the overwhelming feeling of whatever is just beyond the brush. Still, I can’t bring myself to look. My imagination is running wild, though I can’t even speculate what could be out there. But whoever or whatever it is, it’s what was breathing down my neck. Warning me away from continuing my journey further.
If this sucker is on Kincaid land, it can only mean one thing.
I don’t want to think it.
I can’t.
The magic in the lands has all but dried up. There’s no way…
If it’s what I think it is, I’m doomed. I will no longer be amongst the living.
I’ll very likely be in the belly of a beast—literally.
Without looking back, I run. My worn boots pound on the cobblestones as I keep sprinting at full speed.
I am an idiot for gallivanting around in the gardens again. Hell, I probably won’t even survive today if my suspicions are correct. Even if they’re not correct and my imagination is running wild, I still doubt I’ll step back into this wretched place. The gardens are supposed to be filled with tranquility and beauty, but instead, it’s filled with shadows and overwhelming fear.
I’ve never been one to run from my problems, and I can’t help but feel like a total pussy for running now. But seriousl
y, if my suspicions about this property are correct, I definitely don’t want this to become one of my problems. I’d rather run away, and fast, to avoid the beast that was clearly breathing down my neck just a few minutes ago. I feel like I’m going in circles.
Even if I’m only running from a fictitious demon, so be it. The worst I will suffer is lungs that need air much more rapidly than if I were to take a gentle stroll through some flowers.
Footsteps echo mine with ferocity as my boots continue to pound every surface that holds me up on this earth. But its steps are heavier, and I swear the ground is moving. I keep pushing on, running as fast as I can. Even if this whole thing is all in my head, I don’t want to be in the situation of reality. Because if this monstrosity is real, it will clearly squish me with one stomp of its foot.
The gate.
Through a cluster of pink flowers, I can finally see the gate that separates the gardens from the estate, the black metal poles sticking up with spikes and sending sweet relief through me.
The wrought-iron fence keeps the estate pure—cleansed from outsiders and secured from those who wish to overwhelm the riches of the wealthy families. The intimidation of the structure alone should keep the unwanted from the property.
One horrid thing about this gate… the thumbprint needed to enter. And fuck if I’m not shaking too much to make the dang thing read my print. It’s a bioscan, and I heard Talia tell one of the kitchen hands that everyone was entered into the system. Staff members included. It was mandatory.
“C’mon, you stupid thing!” I demand while pressing my thumb harder against the flat panel. “Come on!”
A red flash keeps saying I’m denied.
Denied.
Denied.
“Fuck!” I curse.
The sounds of the pounding footsteps are getting closer, and yet, I’m still… denied.
This is it. It all boils down to a shittastic attempt for this estate to be on top of security.
Denied once more, I finally decide to turn and see what has been following me—what has me about to piss my pants as I can’t seem to get the goddamned thumbprint panel to work.
But I see nothing.
I hear the thumping and the whooshing around me, but still, I don’t see anything aside from the flowers still reflecting the soft, pinkish tones of the sunset.
My eyes are darting every which way, scoping out my surroundings and attempting to find the source of the sounds.
Still, nada.
And that’s when I look up… up to find my eyes are matching those of a dragon.
The dragon’s eyes are blue, overwhelmingly so, as if the creature took a dip into the crystal clear ocean and came out with the most captivating eyes known to man.
Only, this isn’t a man.
This is a beast.
10
I see him. I feel him. Yet I still don’t understand how he’s flapping his wings right in front of me. It wasn’t a thumping of feet I heard just moments before. It was his wings… wings that makes this beautiful yet all too terrifying creature fly.
While continuing to look into the dragon’s blue eyes, I keep my hand on the keypad, my thumb holding ground even though I want to jump out of my skin and run some more.
The gate gives way, the scanpad echoing with the words “access granted”.
Finally.
I couldn’t have fallen through that gate faster even if my life depended on it. I also don’t look back as I run full force to the servant entrance of the mansion. I don’t care if anyone notices I’ve come from a different direction. My only thought is to flee.
My breath is burning its way through my lungs as I slam the wooden door shut behind me and throw my back against it, my chest heaving with each inhale and exhale.
I nearly break out in laughter as I realize I’m attempting to block a beast from entering the house, as if my weight alone could hold the creature at bay.
Too funny.
But not funny at all.
I’m delirious. At any moment, I’m sure I will pass the fuck out. I’m lightheaded, and I try to stop my chest from the ever-increasing expansion of fear as adrenaline spikes through my body.
A normal person would have gone running like a lunatic, screaming through the house… bringing attention to the fact that we’ve got a huge-ass problem outside.
But this is House Kincaid, and from what I’ve heard, very distant kin to what just scared the shit out of me.
Dragons are real. I know this. Everyone knows this. But to see one up close like I just did?
Whoa.
I realize all too late that the door is the only thing holding me upright. I need to act normal—be normal—so I try to step forward. True to Zhavia form, I almost fall flat on my ass.
I’m suddenly surprised with how far I ran. The garden isn’t just around the corner. It’s fucking far. But somehow, I made it. Or, by the grace of all that is magical, the dragon spared a pathetic being like me.
Not likely.
Still, I’m not going to analyze it right now. Dinner is going to be served soon, and I need to wash the filth from the day off me or risk missing yet another meal—or, Gods forbid, another bathing opportunity.
My mind drifts back to Langston. I hope Graham holds up his end of the bargain. He promised me that things would be set to right and no one would get punished for riding his horse. Whether I believe him or not, time will only tell. I can’t think of that in this moment, not after the near scare I had just a few minutes ago.
I have no real way to verify his words considering they were spoken by a man who runs a gilded prison. Unless, of course, Langston shows up for work at the stables tomorrow.
Right now, I’m not sure I want to show up at the stables.
I don’t want to go back out there knowing that creature lurks beyond the mansion walls. They eat people—devour them, skin and bones. My mother didn’t raise a fool, even if her raising was limited in the colony. At least I know better than to play the game of life, especially when the odds are not in my favor.
I try to move away from the door once again, but my legs slide out from under me. Footsteps approach in the distance, and I can’t see whether it’s someone of House Kincaid or a servant. Wiping my brow, I internally swear.
Fuck!
My cap must’ve come loose. It’s missing, and I don’t have a backup. If I get caught without it, I’ll be punished for sure.
Today is not my day. Everything has gone wrong.
It was only a matter of time. I’ve only been here a few days, and I’ve already managed to mess things up. I only had one job to do, an easy one at that. Yet I’ve managed to get reassigned to a new job and have Langston punished for something I did. They’re probably relocating him to a factory where he’ll pass in a matter of days due to exposure from all the chemicals, all because of a horse and my avid curiosity. All because of my need for escape, though he didn’t know that. I should have kept my head down, found another way to go about my plan. Instead, a good person is being punished.
The hall in front of me suddenly darkens as a large form makes it way toward me.
“What’s wrong with you?” The voice is deep, bottomless. As the person attached to the voice nears me, the light from the hallway is blocked out completely by his broad shoulders.
“I’m… I’m… fine. Had a bit of scare is all.”
“Do you need some assistance?”
“No!” I shout. I can’t let whoever this is see me without my cap on. If it’s a servant, they will rat me out for not following the rules. If it’s a member of House Kincaid, I’ll be taken to wherever it is Langston was sent. My plea goes unnoticed as the man towers over me. I don’t look up, because I know he’s someone of importance. His boots are spotless. Way too clean for a servant.
“Where’s your cap? Mother will shit eggs if you’re seen without it on.”
Great, another member of House Kincaid. I’m doomed.
“I lost it out in the garden.”<
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“You were out in the garden? Why?” While his voice is stern, it’s also surprisingly caring in a protective sort of way. His knees crack as he comes to kneel in front of me, and I turn my face away to avoid him.
His scent is crisp and clean, with a hint of fresh-cut fields of green. It’s like he’s been bathing in the sun all day, only he’s flawlessly dressed, from what I can see in the dim lighting. His crisp white shirt is almost like a beacon in the night, even in this muted corridor. His breath fans my face as he talks. “You shouldn’t even be allowed outside. Aren’t you a house worker?”
I shake my head all too abruptly, causing a few tendrils of my hair to flop in my face. That’s when I remember the red. The damn red. There are more streaks now, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why the offending things keep appearing.
Quickly pushing my hair out of my eyes, I swallow a deep breath. If I’m going to go out, I’m not going to do it sitting on my ass. I plan to go out in style.
As I push to my feet, I use the door as my guide, feeling my way up the wooden surface so I can stand. To my surprise, this unknown member of House Kincaid guides me up by my elbow and helps. The touch of his hand on my skin sends a burst of rapid energy through me, like white lightning making the nighttime sky glow.
Whoa.
What the hell is happening?
I’m barely standing before I’m tugged into one of the empty storage rooms, forcing me to hold in a loud gasp. When the light is thrown on, I’m stunned speechless. The Kincaid who stands before me is the biggest I’ve seen yet—even larger than Vulcan in all aspects. His hair is longer and unkept, though it looks like he keeps it messy on purpose. His facial hair is neatly shaven and his lips are a fleshy red, which is an almost complete contrast to his eyes. They are an eerie, almost iridescent green that take me in from head to toe.
It feels as if I’m caught in a trance as I stand still and allow him to inspect me. His gaze is too intense, to entrancing, and I’m forced to avert my eyes.
He blinks once, then twice, before clearing his throat.
“What’s going on with your hair?” he questions.
“I think it’s the air.” Though I don’t know why my hair is discolored, I still know this is a lie. There’s no way it can be the atmosphere. He probably knows it too. But I have no answers, and it’s the best I’ve got at the moment.