by H G Lynch
My adoptive family, the coven of witches, had insisted I do two hours of meditation every day since I was eight years old, telling me it was a way of focussing one’s power, making it stronger. I used the meditation session to relax and felt the anger and confusion drain away from me. I slowed my breathing, listening to each breath passing my lips, and feeling the steady rise and fall of my chest. The life of the woods outside the tent pawed at me, and I let it in, feeling it purr as it met my magic and moved through my body. I even managed to forget about the beautiful black wolf…
Sometime later, I opened my eyes again, feeling peaceful and refreshed, and the black wolf was the furthest thing from my mind. Once again, upon opening my eyes, my gaze was met with green ones. That time, it wasn’t Desmond, and I immediately broke into a grin that matched Dominic’s. The dimple in his left cheek smiled with his mouth. I noticed a smudge of dirt on the knee of his jeans, as if he’d been kneeling on the ground at some point—and remembered he’d probably had to kneel to lift me up when he’d carried me back to camp. I wanted to thank him, but seeing as he’d thought I was unconscious at the time, I thought it might be awkward, so I settled for a standard greeting.
“Hey,” I said casually, untwisting my legs from the lotus position and stretching them out. My knees gave a satisfying pop, and I made an mmh-ing sound in appreciation. Boneless after stretching, I flopped down on my belly on the bed and sighed contently. Dominic chuckled, a sound much less sarcastic than his brother’s snickering laugh.
“Were you meditating?” Dom asked in a tone of disbelief, raising one eyebrow into his curls.
The tent was getting dark, filled with a hazy grey light, and there was a crisp coolness to the air that told me it was probably late evening. I’d been meditating for hours, no wonder I felt so comfort drugged. Beyond the thin tent walls, crickets sang and an owl hooted softly, asking the endless, unanswerable question who-who? Maybe owls were perpetually confused. Maybe that was why they only came out at night, unlike normal birds. Who knew? Hey, maybe that was what they were asking!
I sniggered stupidly at the thought, and Dominic gave me the same ‘Are-you-crazy?’ look his brother had given me earlier—only, when he did it, it didn’t annoy me. I wasn’t sure why exactly, maybe it was just because Dom wasn’t trying to act as if I was crazy when he secretly believed me. But I thought it was something more than that—I just liked Dominic better. He was funnier, cheerier, less sarcastic. Plus, he didn’t eye me as if I was a fine steak the way Desmond did, or glare at me as if I was a disgusting beetle crawling along the ground the way a certain other person did.
Pushing that thought out of my head before it could kill my good mood, I mock scowled at Dominic. “Yes, I was meditating,” I said it like it was a challenge. “Do you have a problem with that, Minnie?” I recalled Dominic saying he hated that nickname, so I grinned when I used it.
He shook his head, sighing and chuckling at once. “Only Spencer usually calls me Minnie. Everyone else calls me Dom, but he likes to take the piss out of me.”
I snorted, rolling my eyes before I could resist the temptation. “Sounds like a real nice guy,” I muttered, then bit my lip anxiously as I realised Dominic might not take my comments as well as Desmond had. That was one thing I did like about Des, though. He seemed to appreciate frankness, or at least, didn’t rebuff me for it. I’d spent so long keeping my opinions and snarky thoughts to myself; I kept expecting to get in trouble for letting them out. I had to keep reminding myself I was free now.
“He’s Spencer; he is how he is.” Dominic shrugged, as if that were a both an explanation and an excuse for Spencer’s bad attitude. Then he gave me a wry look from under his cap of curls. “So…meditation, huh? Is that why you missed dinner?”
I shrugged awkwardly, not wanting to lie. Meditation wasn’t the reason I didn’t go to dinner. It was just what I’d done after deciding not to go to dinner for various other reasons. “I wasn’t hungry anyway,” I said, pushing myself off my belly. The camping bed groaned at me, and I huffed at it. It wasn’t like I weighed that much.
“You must be hungry now, though, right?” Dom asked.
I thought about it, and then nodded slowly. “A little bit, I guess.”
He laughed. “A little bit? You haven’t eaten since breakfast!”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to his tone of incredulity, like he’d never heard of anyone going without food for so long before, so I just shrugged. He shot me a sideways grin as he stood up and held out his hand.
I stared at his outstretched fingers for a moment, noting that he still had dirt under his nails and his knuckles were chapped. Cautiously, I put my hand in his. and he helped me to my feet. His fingers were cool and dry, gripping mine gently, and he didn’t let go once I was standing.
He smiled a little crookedly and jerked his head toward the tent door. “Come on, let’s get you some food. I can show you that thing I wanted to show you earlier while we’re at it.”
I let him lead me out of the tent, and saw the sky was turning the colour of molten lead. I hoped it wouldn’t rain. I didn’t think the tents would be much defence against a downpour and the resulting mud. A group was gathered around the foldout table, apparently playing a card game. Jane was bouncing Polly on her knee. Marissa was holding Emma with one hand and a fan of red-backed cards in the other, which Emma kept trying to pry away from her. I couldn’t tell what they were playing, but it could have been blackjack. I could hear Desmond laughing as John grumbled, shaking his head.
Dominic tugged me on, and we slipped out of the camp without being seen. Shadows clustered thickly under the leafy canopy of the trees, and flowers closed up their bright petals for the night. Mushrooms glowed with sickly pale light, and streams of sap gleamed on the bark of the tree trunks. The ground was springy with moss and decaying leaves under my trainers, and the woods seemed to be sighing as the nocturnal wildlife peeked out from their burrows with shining eyes. A little part of me panicked as he pulled me deeper into the trees, walking parallel with the stream. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Dominic—I did. Mostly. As much as I could trust someone I had only met yesterday. It was just that I had a creeping sensation rolling down my spine, which made me think we weren’t entirely alone. But then, it could have just been the scare I’d gotten earlier that had rattled me. After all, nearly getting shot could probably do that to a girl.
We walked for a short while, with Dominic pointing out different kinds of flowers and informing me what medicinal purposes they could serve. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I already knew many of the plants and their medicinal values, since I’d used lots of herbs and plants in spells and rituals they had made me perform. I listened to him talk, just enjoying his company and the sound of his voice, and letting my eyes wander over him while his eyes wandered over the flowers. Aside from the ones I saw on the street when I went to pick up stuff from The Witch’s Den—a little store on Main Street full of odds and ends, herbs, spices, incense, tarot cards, and books on Wicca and Pagan rituals—I hadn’t been around a lot of guys since they pulled me out of school. I was curious.
Dom was walking a little ahead of me, having dropped my hand a while ago, and he was chatting away animatedly. He was tall enough that he had to duck under branches quite frequently, but slender enough that riddling between the trees seemed easy for him. He slid through the woods with a casual, almost absent kind of grace, as if he’d walked the path a hundred times and could have done it in his sleep. In the darkening shadows under the boughs, his chestnut curls looked almost black. I noticed that, though he had to weigh nearly twice what I did, he barely made a sound as he walked, whereas my feet crunched on dried leaves and branches with every step. For all the length of his long legs, he wasn’t clumsy or gawky, and there was a subtle aura of strength about the way he held himself, despite his lean musculature.
He was still talking, his voice soft in the growing darkness. “…is really good for fevers when you make it into a te
a, and I know you’re not listening to a word I’m saying anymore. And if you keep staring at me like that, I’m going to get the wrong idea.” His tone was amused as he came to a halt and spun round on his heel to face me.
He was grinning, his teeth flashing white in the shadows, and his eyes surprisingly bright. He blinked, and they dimmed, his lashes falling light on his cheekbones as he narrowed his eyes at me in a wry, knowing look. It took me nearly a full three seconds to register what he’d said, and then felt my cheeks grow hot.
I looked down, embarrassed I’d been caught ogling. “Oh,” I squeaked, unsure what else to say.
Dominic laughed, and came back toward me, his footsteps freakishly quiet on the carpet of leaf litter.
“Don’t worry about it. I was joking. but if you’re going to stare at guys around here, try to be sly about it. We can tell when we’re being watched. And, here’s a tip for you for dealing with Spencer: Don’t look him in the eye too much. He doesn’t like it,” he advised sagely, and I nodded slowly, frowning.
“Is that why he looked like he wanted to kill me yesterday at the dinner table? Spencer, I mean. Because I was staring at him?” I asked.
Dominic paused, and then nodded. “Yeah. He gets a bit testy when people stare at him.” I thought about that, and then scowled.
Before I could say anything else, Dominic grinned abruptly and said, “Here we are.” He flourished a hand grandly.
I followed his gaze, and felt my mouth drop open. There, in the middle of a good sized clearing, was the biggest oak tree I’d ever seen. It was huge. Towering above the other trees, its leafy roof spread out over the whole clearing, thick boughs spanning twenty feet and twisting up and around one another like pythons. In the spaces between the branches, I could see it went up and up, seemingly endlessly, as if you could reach heaven if you just kept climbing. The trunk was massive, as thick around as five of the smaller trees put together.
Soft green moss crawled over the heavy, looping roots that protruded from the ground like natural seating. Vines of ivy twisted around the trunk like waxy green tinsel, and spots of white lichen sprouted here and there. Bells of pink foxgloves clustered around the roots, crowding together with delicate snowdrops and sweet baby’s breath. Sprays of daffodils and blue bells fanned out from the tree, a flush of colour. Strung from low branches and nestled in the winding ivy vines, there were little gas lanterns, like the ones I’d seen back at camp. They glowed with tiny white flames, lighting the clearing with a warm pearly glow and casting mysterious shadows into the higher boughs.
Just below the grand tree, there was a picnic set up, spread out on a tattered crimson blanket. A small, woven wicker basket perched in the centre of the blanket, and a little red squirrel sniffed around it curiously, its bushy tail twitching. The bright clearing was like a shining jewel in the midst of a field of coal.
I gaped for an eternity before I was able to tear my eyes away and look at Dominic, who seemed pleased by my reaction.
“Don’t worry. It’s not supposed to be, like, romantic or anything. I just thought you might like to see it,” he said, suddenly shy, rubbing the back of his neck nervously with one hand.
I beamed at him, and impulsively threw my arms around his waist. He jolted in surprise, and then gently patted my back, his laughter rumbling in his chest.
“I take it I was right then,” he chuckled.
I stepped back quickly, blushing. “Sorry,” I said, realising what I’d just done. “Yes, you were right. It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
I wanted to say more, but a lump was rising in my throat, and I had to swallow before it dissolved into ridiculous tears. It was just that…it was the nicest thing anyone had done for me since I was six. I guess I’d forgotten what it was like to have someone do something nice for me. I’d forgotten what it was like to have a friend. The only friend I’d had since I was a little kid was Tamara, the checkout girl at The Witch’s Den. We chatted every time I was there, but we never saw each other in any other settings, since I was rarely allowed out of the mansion, and when I was, I was escorted to ensure I didn’t run off.
Not now, I reminded myself, you’re out now, and you never have to go back.
That was only now starting to sink in as I watched Dominic saunter over to the picnic blanket, scare off the squirrel, and turn to smile at me. His hair was washed with light from the hanging lanterns, making it shine the colour of copper. For a second, his eyes seemed to flash strangely, but when I wandered over, he looked perfectly normal—and excited. Like a little boy showing a friend his new toy.
He folded himself neatly on the ground, and gestured for me to do the same. I lowered myself onto the blanket; it was rough under my hands. Dom started pulling stuff out of the wicker basket. He took out fresh apples, strawberries in a plastic carton, and raspberries and brambles that I suspected he’d picked from the bushes growing naturally in the woods. Then he dug out a spray can of whipped cream and two bottles of water. I laughed at the satisfied smirk on his face as he popped the lid off the whipped cream and shook the can. He tipped his head back and squirted the foamy cream into his mouth, pointed the can at me, and I squealed, holding up my hands defensively. Swallowing the whipped cream, Dominic laughed at me.
“I’m not going to attack you with it, relax. Have some. It’s one of man’s greatest creations,” he said with the air of someone who also thought pizza and wireless internet were some of man’s greatest creations.
I snorted, took the can from him, and squirted some into my mouth before tossing the can back to him. I mmm-ed in delight and Dom threw a plump pink raspberry at me. It hit my collarbone and threatened to fall down the neck of my t-shirt, but I caught just in time and glared at him.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with your food?” I teased, picking up a bramble and aiming it toward his head. He dove for it and caught it in his mouth, grinning as he chewed.
He pretended to look thoughtful for a moment, and then shook his head. “Nope. My mother has definitely never told me not to play with my food. She has, however, told me not to make a mess with my food. Completely different, and completely pointless. I eat like an animal.” He growled playfully to emphasise his point.
I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh as I bit into a sweet, juicy strawberry. It was cool and delicious. I tipped my chin up to look at the sky, but the foliage of the oak tree was too thick to see through. Instead, I sat and watched an owl hunching high in the leaves, looking half-asleep the way owls always seem to.
I could feel Dominic watching me, but I didn’t take my eyes off the owl as I asked, curiously, “So, where do you actually live?” Town was several miles away and there was only one school, but I couldn’t remember ever seeing him or his brothers there before I’d been yanked out. Surely, I’d have remembered him, right? Unless he lived somewhere further away, and went to a different school.
From the corner of my eye, I saw Dominic pause and tilt his head, as if he was considering how much to tell me. Then he lifted a hand, holding half a strawberry between his fingers, and pointed to the east of us.
“That way,” he answered simply, and I shook my head, glancing at him sideways.
“No, I mean, where in town?” I clarified, looking for a little more detail than the general direction. For all I knew, he could mean he lived in a city forty miles in that direction. That would suck. At least if he lived in town, there was a chance I might see him again—seeing as I was leaving. I couldn’t hang around much longer without them finding me.
Dominic hesitated again, and then shrugged, half to himself. “We don’t live in town. We live in the woods. We’ve got cabins about a mile that way.” He pointed with the strawberry again, considered the little fruit, and then popped it into his mouth.
“You…don’t you go to school or anything?” I asked, examining a shiny black bramble. I’d never actually tasted brambles before. I put it in my mouth, bit down on it, and bitter juice burst on my tongue. I decided I d
idn’t like brambles, and picked up a raspberry next.
“Oh, aye, I did. All of us did,” Dominic murmured around a mouthful of fruit, tossing an apple from one hand to the other as he spoke. “But then my dad pulled us out to home school us. Said it would be easier, because we always take a few days off school when there’s a full moon. It’s…kind of a family ritual thing. All the others do it too.”
Home schooling, I understood. Though, I doubted normal kids like Dominic were taught the best way to make a Truth Serum, or how to read the Casting Sticks. “Like a…cult thing?” I wondered.
Dom shook his head, curls flickering in the lantern light. “No, nothing like that. Just…it’s hard to explain.” His mouth made a funny line for a moment, his face scrunching as if he was confused about something, but then his expression smoothed out. He squirted a dollop of whipped cream onto his apple, then licked the cream off, and took a bite of the apple.
I eyed a large, abnormally shaped strawberry as I thought of my next question. “So, why camping then? If you already live in the woods?” It seemed a bit redundant to take a vacation just a few miles from home. Not that I’d ever been on vacation, but I knew enough of the normal world to realise that most people chose to go to hot countries or theme parks for vacations.
Dominic continued to chew slowly, for so long that I thought he hadn’t heard my question, but then he answered slowly, “We’re just sort of keeping away from home for a couple of weeks while my dad works something out with the, uh, neighbours. The fighting can get pretty loud and it upsets the little ones when–” He stopped talking abruptly, and cast his eyes up toward the massive tree, like he’d already said too much and wasn’t going to say any more on the subject.
