by LeAnn Mason
Maybe I just needed to say it out loud, to cement my conviction. I don't know. "I can't go back," I whispered in a choked and defeated voice. If they’d found me already, I had no chance of escape.
What had only been reflective predatory eyes a moment ago, I could discern to be almond-shaped amber eyes staring back at me in the sunrise glow. The brown and grey animal cocked his head slightly, as if curious about either me or my hushed words, then took a slow but purposeful step in my direction. When I mirrored the move with a step backward to keep the distance, my hand raising the stolen knife again, he paused and cocked his head, this time in the other direction. A moment of decision seemed to take place. Then, I swore he nodded, his head dipping slightly once before regaining his original position.
My weight on my back foot, free hand bunched in the long cloak. The attire was so far from practical, but then, so was this rush into unknown woods to escape the life I'd been dealt. Practical or not, I would be ready to turn and flee if I had no other option.
My breathing stopped, my eyes widening when the wolf's head jerked upright, his full, considerable attention on me as indicated by those intense eyes and no-longer-twitching ears. I readied to fight, figuring he’d decided that eating me was the better option. So, the suddenness of his tail moving back and forth broke the tension that had rooted me in place and replaced it with confusion. The wolf, this fierce and determined predator of the forest, wagged his tail.
Wagged his tail? My legs expressed their unwillingness to keep me upright in a show of buckling, leaving me to fall to the leaf-cluttered ground in a melting heap. This must have been how the wicked witch felt when doused with water. I kicked up a small smirk as I considered screeching about my soon-to-be-puddle status in a moment of misplaced levity.
The forest floor was much more comfortable than I ever realized. At least, this spot. Ferns and damp leaves made a sort of bouncy, cradling sleep space. Though, maybe my exhaustion contributed slightly to such thinking. The autumnal rain had stopped some time ago, and the rising sun now filtered through the trees, providing a hint of much-needed warmth that the wetness of my clothes and the leaves tried to rob from me. Exhaustion pulled at my limbs, at my mind, begging me to give in. To rest.
With the wolf apparently playing nice, I decided against climbing back to my feet. If he wanted to have me, he could. I needed to rest. Just a few minutes would be enough, and then I could continue my not-thought-out plan: leave the woods, get to civilization, and report it.
My eyes shut of their own accord, too heavy to allow me to watch the wolf a moment longer. Just as I began my descent into darkness, I felt a tickle at my hairline, a cool wetness followed by soft prickles at my forehead. I willed my eyes to open, to see what assaulted my flesh, but they wouldn't listen. The prickles moved away before becoming more pronounced a moment later. Warmth radiated toward my face and arms, and I knew the wolf had joined me, his dense coat tickling my fingers.
How? Why? I hadn't heard him approach, the wet leaves apparently quieting his advance, but I knew it was him. I didn't know why he'd come to lay with me, why he wasn't acting anything like I expected a wild predator would. I felt at ease around him. I'd examine the circumstances later. I just needed to regain some of my lost strength, but, as my stomach rumbled, I realized that another need would also have to be met soon.
I knew I was safe, that this wolf would protect me while I slept, though I had no idea why. With that last thought, consciousness fled, my breath mingling with my watcher’s.
CHAPTER 3
B ird song and an intense need to pee woke me some time later. By the heat and position of the sun, I surmised it to be about midday. Rising to rest on my elbows, I surveyed my surroundings as I attempted to get my bearings.
Why was I out in the middle of a completely foreign forest in the middle of the day? Rolling my neck and stretching each of my limbs in turn gave me ample time to dredge up the memories of my harrowing dash. It also gave me time to dwell on one simple fact: I had stabbed a man. Granted, it had been with a stick and only in self-defense, but the fact remained.
Bunching fistfuls of the tattered cloak, I scurried to the base of a tree. I needed a place to brace myself as I popped a squat. Having to hike a dress and robe up high enough that I didn’t splash on them was tough. I’d had to make do with the outdoor lavatory more often than not when detained by Seth, but I’d never had to do so while wearing a dress, probably because I’d never worn them. I’d never gotten to choose my own clothes, and much of what I’d been granted were others’ cast-offs.
Feeling unburdened, I returned to my sleeping spot. It had been nicely kept, a depression in the leaf bed. I laid my head on my bent knees, then cocooned myself within the woolen confines of the cloak. I probably resembled the stain left upon the earth when a life was leached. I felt that way, too, like my life had spilled out into the dirt of the ceremonial clearing I’d fled. I had no idea what life held for me now. How would I survive? I was officially on my own, without anything except the borrowed clothes on my back.
I was alone. No food. No water. No idea where I was or where I was going. Things had never been good while held captive by the coven, but at least I'd known where I stood and what to expect, both from my situation and my captors. I had known what the day would entail: school, cooking, cleaning, being a learning tool for spellwork. I had also known I’d survive unless I tried to leave or tell anyone of my true plight, not that anyone in our town would believe that I was held captive by a coven of dark witches. Magic was real, and some of the higher members could even shapeshift. I’d have been tossed into a loony bin faster than I could say “magic man.”
So, I stayed and played my role. Until last night. Now, I needed to shed the skin of the fear-riddled girl who’d lost all of her family to the wolves in the woods as a child. It was my turn to dictate my life. My turn to choose the direction of my future. If only I had any ideas about how to actually do that, I’d be feeling a bit more positive than I did at that moment.
I didn't know when I started rocking, or what exactly called my attention behind me. Warily, I pulled my head away from my knees and dropped my fabric-wrapped hands to the dirt. Feeling eyes boring into my back, I twisted, using my hands for leverage, then righted myself. My heart rate picked up again, but I did my best not to move noisily or quickly; I didn’t want to send the animal into fight mode. Not that it had another. Not that any of them did.
Come on! I mean, how many freaking wolves were housed in these woods? I ran to escape wolves only to find new ones surrounding me. “Can’t I catch a break?” I cursed, smoothing my tangled, shoulder-length, dark hair away from my face. My hair was short enough not to be too much of an impediment most of the time. However, it seemed determined to fly across my eyeline and obscure my view of the new wolf who stood watching me from the same spot and in much the same manner as the one last night. The new one wasn’t giving me the same safe feeling the first had, though. This dark beast hadn’t made up its mind about me just yet.
Thinking of my furry friend had me casting furtive glances around the space in as covert a manner as possible. Last night, the gray wolf had seemed almost like a protector, the exact opposite of any coven animal I’d ever encountered. That had been mainly Seth, and as coven leader, he was the scariest bastard around. Though, technically, I was the bastard.
I had no idea who my father was, and my mother had died during childbirth. My birth to be exact, so I’d never had the pleasure of her company, either. I’d been raised by my grandmother—my mother’s mother—in a little cabin set back into the woods until Seth had killed her and stolen me under the guise of saving me from the ravaging animals.
The animal in the trees now was a totally different beast than I’d encountered in my post-adrenaline-fueled flight into the unknown. The newcomer was smaller, more refined, with a slender snout, smaller bones, and a leaner build. The most obvious difference was that she was black as night with some hair tips a tawny color, givi
ng her coat a brindled appearance. Her coat. Given the stature difference, I had a gut feeling this one was female.
She was beautiful. Those gold-colored eyes held me entranced, pulling me forward like a string attached between us. I gravitated to where she prowled, warily eyeing me. There was so much intelligence in her eyes, much like those animals I’d seen to be the other half of men. That thought, and the slight curling of her lips, pulled me back.
Just because I couldn’t see the person behind the animal right now didn’t mean that there wasn’t one. I paused in my unconscious trek toward the animal. We stood mere feet from one another, still staring. I needed to get a grip. Wolves were not meant to be my friends. I needed to remember that. I needed to prepare.
I needed to survive.
Quiet movement jerked my attention back over my left shoulder. A flash of white surrounded by brown fur gleamed through the thicket away from where the wolf and I stood in opposition. My stomach growled as it realized what the rabbit represented: breakfast. The rumbling my belly exuded was fierce enough to deter any gentle creature and had the dark wolf canting her head with each violent gurgle. “I’m hungry, all right?” I groused defensively at the animal as I wrapped my arms around my middle in a futile attempt to quiet the complaints.
I needed to eat. Trouble was, I had never had to catch my own meal. I could roam the area, looking for berries or other edible plants, but… I had no idea what was edible and what would more likely kill me. Maybe I should start with water, find a stream and get a drink. Was that safe? Hell, I was so out of my element. Why had I thought running headlong into a forest was the answer?
Probably because only death awaited you where you were, my mind provided helpfully. I scoffed. The wolf tilted her head in the opposite direction, the movement reminding me that she was still there. “Well, Wolfie, guess I need to get moving. Try to make my way through these woods, so that I can survive longer than the time it will take for me to either starve or die of dehydration. You know, assuming you’re not a shapeshifting witch sent to either retrieve me or kill me for your leader,” I rambled sardonically, surveying the trees for any hint of a visible path.
Paths meant traffic. Whether two-legged or four, I didn’t care. Either would lead to something required for survival, be it food, water, or shelter. I spotted a thin line where the grass and undergrowth were worn. “Just what I was looking for,” I muttered. I had no idea why I talked out loud. Maybe so I didn’t feel quite as crazy, quite as alone. Talking to the animals around me wasn’t as crazy as talking to myself… right?
“That’s my logic, and I’m sticking to it, Wolfie.” I cast a glance at where my shadow had been, only to realize that she’d moved closer. Much closer. We were now separated by no more than an arm’s length as she stared in the direction of the game trail I’d noticed. Seemed it had caught her attention as well. Maybe having an apex predator around would help me survive… assuming she didn’t choose to take the easy meal I presented. Though, I wouldn’t go down easily. Maybe she knew that.
Thinking of fighting back, I patted my torso. I didn’t feel the telltale bulge of the knife tucked anywhere, which made sense, seeing as the cloak didn’t have a sash or any pockets, and neither did the tattered dress. Eyes now on the leaf-littered dirt, I spun in circles, trying to locate my only weapon. It figured I’d lose the thing. I really was supposed to die at Griffin’s hands. Why else would my present be such a mess? I’d probably end up drinking wormy water before I was viciously mauled by a hungry bear that I somehow stumbled upon in my wanderings.
“Wolfie, will you save me from the wild? Can I count on you for that?” I asked the dark animal, who watched me make myself dizzy with my spinning. I swore she thought I was a fool and wanted to get as far from me as humanly—wolfily—possible. “Why don’t you go, then? It would certainly make my breathing easier.”
There! A glint from under my makeshift bed finally hinted at where my stolen knife hid. I must have thrashed around and buried it in my sleep. I’d need to find a means of securing the knife to myself, so I didn’t always have to worry about keeping it in my hand. That hadn’t worked well so far.
I looked over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes at the wolf. “Where’s the other one, huh? He was friendlier. He’d probably find some vine for me to use.” I goaded her. Man, I really have lost my remaining marbles. “Maybe it’s a girl thing. You know, the biggest bitch in the forest or something?” The bitch in question yawned and shook her head, ears flopping around to slap audibly against the sides of her head. She wasn’t worried about me in the least, but she hadn’t attacked me either. That had to mean something, right? “Seriously, why don’t you run along now? Shoo!” I waved my hands at her like I was pushing her away.
She didn’t like that. Moving up into a sitting position, she lowered her head. She pinned her ears back in a clearly aggressive manner, stared right into my eyes… and growled. I yielded, turning my eyes away. “Definitely not like Mister Gray,” I muttered as I straightened and rested my hands on my hips with the knife still gripped in my left fist. “Well, whatever. Stay or go, it’s up to you. I need to figure myself out.”
I stepped toward the trail I’d spotted, my red cloak billowing in the breeze like a flag at the fair. I wondered just how large of a crowd I’d draw. Would there be chatter amongst the critters about my fate? Would they take bets about just how I’d perish among the trees? Fight for the chance to be the one to take me down?
Funnily, at that moment, all of nature’s sounds seemed to have died around us. Like Mother Nature herself held her breath, waiting to see what her children would decide.
I was a freaking Shaman, dang it! My ancestors were very in touch with nature and spirit, not that I’d learned anything about it.
“Okay, I’ll make you a deal,” I threw out into the ever-present ears of the forest. “If I survive this, I promise to learn all about you. About my people and being a Shaman.” I waited, holding my breath as I furtively cast my eyes about the space. “No answer? Of course not. How could I expect anything different? I’m going to walk now. See where it takes me.” The trail was just wide enough for me to pass through, or would have been without the added bulk and billowing of the cloak. It was like a beacon. A lighthouse on the shore. I’d need to shed the thing as I kept moving, but I didn’t want to leave it behind.
It had a hood, which would be handy if it rained. If it got cold in only my flimsy dress, it would help keep me warm. As proved last night, it made a decent pillow or blanket.
That settled it. The gaudy cape stayed. I tucked it around me as I made my way forward again, unsure where to go. I was only sure that I needed to keep moving.
CHAPTER 4
I t was strangely calming to be surrounded by nothing but the wild. No human interference readily noticeable while I trekked through the dense foliage. The brisk breeze brushing through the leaves overhead created a rhythmic whoosh that flitted around in tandem with the birdsong. Beautiful chirps and tweets encased me as I closed my eyes, pausing my footfalls because the sound I made as I walked was an abomination in this place.
How could I ever have hated such ambience? At that thought came the violent and terrifying memories of death and the start of my imprisonment. I nodded to myself in acknowledgement, a valid reason to avoid such spaces. My eyes snapped open as a buzzing something whipped past my face, doing a flyby that had my skin crawling. Those things lived out here, too. The creepy, crawly, and bloodsucking types. Mosquitos were the worst. And spiders.
I swept my hands across my arms, ridding myself of the phantom nasties that now swarmed my covered skin. At least that was a benefit of the old-fashioned dress: long sleeves and a high neck left very little for bugs to latch on to. Maybe I’d leave the woods without looking like I’d contracted chicken pox.
I just needed to keep my eyes and ears peeled for a way out of the trees. Easy, right? Where was my shadow? I looked around without seeming too obvious and didn’t immediately notice her, or
him, for that matter. However, my next step had me grinding to a halt. Lost as I’d been to the sounds around me, I hadn’t tuned in to what now lay before me. I was amazed that this place could suck me in further.
Picking up my jaw from the forest floor, I took the steps necessary to bring me to the water’s edge. Obstructing my current path of travel was a small running creek. I must have mistaken its rushing for the sound of the wind in the trees, but this was what the game trail led to. Water.
The stream was narrow, no more than a few feet in width, with a rock bottom and a mossy—slippery—embankment. The rocky base made it easy to see through the water as it rushed past, but it was still hard to tell exactly how deep it was. It looked to be running downhill—as water tends to—but I lost sight of it in the distance as it meandered through the trees away from me.
“Don’t towns tend to be near water sources?” I mused quietly, staring at the winding visage. Truth was I wasn’t sure I wanted to find civilization. People had caused me the most harm in my life. Maybe I’d be happier by myself in the forest, even better off.
I was hot, tired, thirsty, and dirty. The bubbling brook presented an opportunity to change at least two of those things. I pulled the snap at my throat, causing the heavy cloak to fall away from my shoulders without the fastening. Next, I went for the buttons that ran the entire length of the dress and peeled it away from my sweaty skin. I kept my undergarments on, just in case.
It was early autumn, so the weather was cooling but not cold just yet. Still, I slipped out of my thin-soled slippers and toed the water to test its temperature. Just the dip of a toe confirmed what I’d feared. The water was cold. Still, I needed to wash some of the ordeal from my skin, if not from my mind.
