Hunted

by Paul Eslinger

  Two sets of eyes followed my every movement when I looked around. Feeling stupid and inept, I closed my eyes and concentrated even harder. Nothing happened, and then I stopped to think. Zephyr had made it clear in the past that the trick was aligning your desires with the magic. You did that with clarity of thought rather than brute mental force.

  The pack floated when I mentally lifted and aligned the thoughts with the clouds that floated overhead. Why didn’t that work with a ball? I could push the ball with incredible force after I threw it with my sling.

  Trey’s excited voice broke into my churning thoughts. “Look at that!”

  My eyes flew open as I spun toward Trey. “What?”

  “Over there,” he said pointing past my body.

  I spun back around and immediately saw a large snake slithering through the grass toward us. The winters were cold enough that few snakes lived near our house, and none of them were poisonous. A few of this kind of snake lived in the valley near Glendale and further downriver. Father and I had once seen the skin of this kind of snake in a shop in Glendale and he had warned me about them. They were aggressive, especially if injured or hungry, and they sometimes attacked large prey. They had been known to bite and kill a cow.

  By this time, the snake was nearly to the fence, still coming in our direction, but moving more slowly. I could see a long scab running down the side of the snake. Something, probably one of the osprey or eagles, had attacked it. It was probably weak and hungry.

  I started to reach for a stone for my sling but realized the metal ball was still sitting on my palm. Instead of running, which I probably would have done if I was alone, I pretended I was picking up the metal ball to put it in the pocket of the sling. It rose off my hand and hung in the air. Although my sling was still coiled inside my pants pocket, I tucked the ball into the pocket of a magical sling using magical fingers. Then, using a magical arm, I threw the ball at the oncoming snake, which had closed to within ten paces and stopped with its head raised to peer at us with beady black eyes.

  The ball hit the snake in the head, splattering blood and gore onto the wooden post it had just passed. There was a crack and splinters flew from the post. I lunged to my feet, ignored Trey’s exclamation of surprise, and darted over to the snake. Most of the snake’s head was gone, and it wouldn’t be biting anyone, so I ignored it and looked for the metal ball.

  “Did you lose it?” Trey asked as he examined the snake. He looked up and smiled. “That was a good throw.”

  “I’m still looking,” I said sourly as I looked back and forth, expecting to see a furrow in the dirt. Finally, I found a hole in the post where it had hit.

  Trey stepped around to the other side of the post and pointed toward the ground. “It’s over here.”

  “Wow,” I said as I squatted and looked. The ball had gone entirely through the post, which was so large my hands wouldn’t reach all the way around it, and had dropped onto the ground on the other side. I reached out to pick it up and then pulled my hand back before touching it. I had thrown it using magic. I should be able to pick it up using the same magic. The metal ball rose effortlessly in the air and floated behind me as I headed back toward the haystack.

  Trey followed me and only quick reflexes kept us from colliding when I suddenly stopped and turned around. His eyes were intent in his flushed face. “Can you help me learn how to do that?” he whispered, pointing at the hovering ball.

  “I’ll try,” I promised. “But I haven’t taught anyone how to use magic and I’m not a very good teacher. Besides, I’m still learning. This is a new one for me.” I knew from working with Zephyr that the first step in doing much with magic was tapping into the magical power flowing through the ground like blood through my veins. She watched through hooded eyes as I talked with Trey. We kept at it until the sun went down but he still couldn’t touch the strong magic. We only stopped when he complained he was exhausted.

  “We’ll go through Glendale tomorrow and then on to see Ara,” I said as I laid out a sleeping fur on the hay.

  Trey shook his head and spoke slowly, “We’ll have to be careful. That Hunter knows what I look like. He’ll come after us like an angry swarm of bees if he sees me again.”

  Chapter 8 – Wanted Poster

  The light of the new dawn woke me even though I had pulled the sleeping blanket over my head to keep off the pesky mosquitos. I didn’t want to get up, but sleep fled when the crows in the nearby trees began calling to each other in husky voices.

  Concern that the crows might be reacting to someone moving caused my heart to beat faster. Motionless, I reached out with a magical scan, looking for nearby threats. The crows were reacting to a small herd of deer. Satisfied with that, I looked farther away. We were close to several farms and grumpy and irritated people were moving around at all of them. No one liked the early morning.

  It took little effort to reach as far as Glendale. Few people were awake, except for a couple of cooks. I couldn’t find the Hunter, but he might still be sleeping.

  The memory of wolf howls the previous evening kept me looking longer than I had anticipated. I could feel Zephyr’s mind, but no other wolves close by. At least, nothing I thought was a wolf. I could tell what kind the other animals were, such as a rabbit or a bird, but I had only felt the mind of one wolf. After pulling more magic from deep in the ground, I scanned the region near the mine, although I couldn’t see anything on the other side of the mine. Apparently, I could only scan for a distance of about a day’s walk. There were about a dozen people at the mine and there was a hint of another wolf just on the edge of my perceptions. It was similar to Zephyr, but it reeked of fear mixed with purpose and determination.

  By this time, both Trey and Zephyr were awake. Without moving, I sent a thought to both of them. “There is another wolf on the far side of the mine. It is determined to do something, but it is afraid.”

  “We should leave,” Zephyr replied immediately. For the first time in our acquaintance, I felt fear in her mind as well.

  I sat up, still holding the sleeping blanket close around me in the cool morning air. Part of me wanted to do as Zephyr said, but a bigger part wanted to see Ara, even though four days ago I had told her I wouldn’t be back until next summer. “I’m going to check on Ara before I leave,” I asserted.

  “Suit yourself,” Zephyr rose to her feet, extended her front paws, and stretched with her hindquarters sticking up. She hopped down to the bare dirt under the end of the roof and stood staring out at the surrounding forest. “I will meet you after dark tonight at the cave near where Jude’s Road and the King’s Road cross.”

  Her form blurred for a few moments and then grew sharp again. To anyone looking, a large brown dog, smaller than Zephyr, stood where she had been moments earlier. She trotted towards the fence, squatted slightly, and then bounded over the fence in a prodigious jump that must have covered twenty paces. Moments later, she disappeared among the trees.

  “Wow,” Trey said, pushing back his tangled hair with both hands. He lowered one hand and pointed in the direction Zephyr had gone. “Did she change shapes or just make it so we saw a different shape?”

  “I don’t think you can change shapes using magic,” I answered. “However, you can change what others see.”

  Trey rose to his feet and started folding his sleeping fur. He didn’t look at me. “Can you do that, too?”

  “Only a little,” I admitted with a wry grin as I stood. “I tried to grow a magical beard the other day.”

  “Grow a beard or look like you had a beard?” Trey asked, wrinkling his nose.

  “Look like I had a beard. Like this,” I said as I focused my efforts on adding a magical beard to my face. I tried to make it as long as my first finger.

  Trey turned towards me. His eyes widened and he clutched the rolled fur closer to his chest. “That’s an impressive beard.” He gulped and then h
e started to smile. “However, it ought to be black like your hair instead of the color of a chestnut.”

  “Oops,” I said chagrinned. Maybe the color difference was why that woman had watched me so long the first time I had worn a magical beard, which had happened the day before Trey’s parents were killed. I pulled a lock of my long hair around where I could see it and tried to adjust the color of the magical beard to match it. “Is that better?”

  “No,” Trey said with a chuckle. “Your beard is the color of Ara’s hair.”

  “Oops,” I said again, disconcerted that a vision of Ara’s face in my memory was overriding what I was doing. I made another magical change. “How about now?”

  Trey waggled one finger in the air and he had an expression of approval. “That’s it. Your beard looks perfectly normal, but you have hay in your hair.”

  “I have a fix for that,” I replied, reaching for the pack before remembering I didn’t have a comb. Father had made me a comb from birch wood. It had a handle and twelve smooth teeth as long as the last joint on my middle finger. I had left it beside the fireplace one night last winter and mice had chewed on it. He hadn’t offered to make a new one.

  “What kind of fix?” Trey asked when I stopped moving.

  I sighed. “I forgot. I don’t have a comb.”

  “You can borrow mine,” he offered as he reached in his pack.

  “No thanks,” I demurred. “I’ll just push it up under my hat.”

  Trey sounded serious. “That might work for a while, but it will fall out when you take the hat off. You need to use the comb before we get to town. Your neat beard is different enough from your tangled hair that it will draw attention.”

  He was right. What I really needed was an afternoon beside a pond to practice adjusting my appearance. With work, I could define three or four variations and commit them to memory for future use. The day wasn’t starting the way I had anticipated, so I decided on the easy path, Moments later I adjusted the beard again so it looked longer and tangled. “Does that match?” I asked.

  Trey paused with his comb in his hair and looked at me again. His lips curled and his voice sounded strained. “Mothers will snatch their children out of the way if you go to town looking like that.”

  “Okay,” I sighed and changed the beard back to the neat look. I could use magic to smooth out my hair, but maybe I shouldn’t squander the power. I held out my hand in total surrender. “Can I use the comb?”

  “Sure,” he said, handing it over. His brown hair was shorter than mine and he had combed it neatly with a few quick strokes. “I could whittle out a comb for you, or if you have some money, you can buy one in Glendale.”

  He came back from a break behind some bushes before I finished combing the hay out of my hair. The first strokes had run into tangles that required patience to work through. I hadn’t cut my hair since Mother had died two years previously. Finally, I smoothed my hair and handed back the comb. “Maybe I should buy one of these and also get a haircut.”

  “Don’t pay for a haircut,” he said promptly. “I can cut it for you with my scissors.”

  I chuckled. “Have you ever cut hair?”

  Tears welled up in his eyes but didn’t spill down his cheeks. “Yes. I cut Mother’s hair several times. She did mine and… Father’s.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know how to handle the emotion, so I turned away and thought about practical things, such as breakfast. “We don’t want to do it here and leave a pile of hair for someone to find.”

  Trey gestured at the packs. “Do we eat here or wait until we get to town?”

  “It’s less than an hour’s walk, so let’s wait,” I suggested. “We can buy food for breakfast and also some for when we are traveling.”

  “I’m hungry,” he protested.

  “I’m not,” I said and then joined in Trey’s laugh when my stomach rumbled loudly. After rummaging in my pack, I handed over two sticks of hard cheese and a small handful of dried meat. “We can eat this while we walk.”

  “Thanks,” he said and then gestured at the packs. “Do we carry them today like normal people?”

  “What?” I frowned, and finally understood what he meant. I should have thought it through for myself. Except for my magical beard, we should walk through town like any other travelers.

  I helped Trey use handfuls of hay to brush out our tracks after setting the packs on a patch of grass outside the fence. We picked up the packs and settled them in place. Mine seemed heavier than before, but not so heavy it would slow our pace.

  We backtracked along the trail we had used the previous day because it passed close to a small brook in one place. I was getting thirsty before I heard a low murmur that sounded like water tumbling over small rocks.

  Trey took off his pack to get out his drinking cup and looked at me when I did the same thing. “If you still want me to, I’ll cut your hair after we are done drinking. We can hide the hair behind those bushes.”

  To my surprise, he was quick and deft with the scissors. He muttered to himself as he raised locks of hair with the comb and snipped away the ends. Finally, he stopped and chuckled. “I’ll leave it long enough you won’t get sunburned if you take your hat off.”

  “That’s really nice of you,” I said sarcastically, and then immediately regretted the unkind words. “I’m sorry. I should have said thank you.”

  He nodded without speaking and tucked the scissors back into his pack. I jammed my hat on my head and kicked dry leaves over the small pile of hair.

  We stopped and stood side by side among the bushes when we approached the road. Large oak trees spread immense limbs that only revealed small patches of the cloudless azure sky. Trey checked the road in both directions for other travelers while I scanned the sky. We hadn’t seen the dragon since leaving the road yesterday.

  It was easy walking along the shoulder of the road compared to the winding bumpy trail and we soon reached the first farm. Four men were working in one of the fields nearest the road, rhythmically swinging scythes in the knee-high grass.

  “Hello,” Trey called, waving his hand when we came close to the men.

  The men all stopped and leaned on their scythe handles while they looked in our direction. The one in the front nodded his head and touched his gloved hand to the broad brim of his hat before picking up the scythe again. All four started swinging again and they were still working when we reached the next bend in the road.

  “They weren’t very friendly,” Trey said with a frown. “People usually talk when we go by.”

  “It was like this last week,” I explained. “Everyone seemed afraid.”

  “That’s strange,” Trey protested.

  I shook my head. “I told you about the two murders.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Trey grunted. His voice sounded hoarse. “Those two, and then…” He choked and didn’t continue.

  “That’s not all,” I continued, trying to ignore Trey’s emotion. “Four thugs have also moved into the area and they bully everyone. Ara and I saw them.”

  We passed three more farms before reaching Glendale. The road wound through a grove of aspen trees near the river and then turned towards the south. Two houses flanked the road. The one on the left was a small one-story house covered with vertical weather-beaten wood planks. The moss growing on the shingle roof blended into the surrounding stand of cedar trees. Chickens squawked inside a pen beside the house.

  Unlike the house on the left, which looked a hundred years old, the two-story one on the right was new. Men had been working on it the last time I had visited in town with Ara and Father. Workmen had installed a wide stone walk from the road to the front door.

  “Watch where you’re walking,” Trey warned as I looked back at the new house. A horse-drawn buggy was visible in the shed behind the house.

  “What?” I asked and then looked down. I had jus
t missed stepping in a pile of horse dung so fresh that steam still rose from it.

  “Thanks,” I said and paid attention to the road rather than gawking at every house or building. Horses, cows, and goats had left their offal behind and other animals had mixed it into the surface dirt layer.

  We passed four more houses and saw several people on the street before we reached the village market. Only one man gave a gruff response to the cheerful greetings Trey and I made to everyone. The others tried to ignore us and scurried along like they were on important errands.

  “Everyone knows we’re strangers,” Trey commented. “The packs just make it easy for them to pick us out.”

  There weren’t as many people in the market as there had been when Ara and I had visited a week earlier, but I could still see a couple of dozen people moving among the merchant stalls. Only four well-used wagons and one cart stood in the middle of the large square instead of the twelve on our previous visit.

  Trey pointed across the square. “We can get fresh bread with cow’s butter at the small bakery shop. I’ve eaten there before.”

  “We’ll need money,” I said as I glanced around. Several buildings had large shutters propped open to provide shade for merchandise tables. Six tents with open sides nestled in a group in the middle of the square, but they would disappear when cold weather arrived. All buying and selling occurred inside during the winter, except for the occasional hunter selling meat from a freshly-killed animal. The walls of the blacksmith shop and the bank were made of cut stone and covered with slate roofs. All of the others were constructed of logs or rough lumber cut by the water-powered saw down at the edge of the river.

  “I have money,” Trey said.

  “So do I,” I responded. “I’ll buy the bread.”

  After quickly untying the thong holding my pack straps in place, I swung the pack down and propped it against the side of a building. As I did, I came face to face with a small poster hanging on the wall. My beardless face stared out of the poster under the words, Have You Seen this Man?