Blood Moon Rising

by K. R. Thompson

  When the last person sat down, Adam stood up from his chair and spoke. “Since you’re here, you’ll know the reason we decided to meet. We’re here to see if any of you have information that can help find the killer.”

  An uneasy silence ensued, then Albie, one of the guys I knew from biology class spoke up. I’d never pegged him for a magical. So much for my being able to “see” everything.

  “I’m here to speak on behalf of the wood nymphs…”

  I suddenly saw him for who he was. His flyaway brown hair that seemed to be in constant revolt, sticking up all over his head in defiant patches. The tips of his ears that pointed slightly up. A movement over his right shoulder caught my attention and I found myself staring at a well camouflaged wing that had blended, colors fitting in with the drab gray brick wall behind him.

  “We want you to know that we had nothing to do with the Spriteblood’s death, nor do we know who is responsible. You have my word that if we find out anything at all, I will tell you,” Albie concluded.

  Several others murmured agreement. I felt their magic and looked around me to see that every single person was staring straight at Adam. There wasn’t a single kid there who looked suspicious or guilty of anything. More than one of them had dropped their guise and sat there, completely uncloaked, showing the true magic they held.

  I recognized several Woodsburls with their long, curling teeth. On the opposite side of the table sat Ronnie, perched in her chair as a Chickcharney. The owl blinked her golden eyes and a let a soft hoot when she spotted me looking at her.

  There were a few that I didn’t know and I found myself wracking my brain to remember some of the descriptions of the magical beings that had been in Efflehurt’s book. There were some here that I was certain I had never seen within its pages.

  I watched as one kid’s skin changed to scales. His face narrowed, going straight from high cheekbones to a sharp, pointed chin. As he exhaled, the air leaving him seemed to crackle and a long plume of smoke rose from his nostrils.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was a dragon of some sort, I thought, staring outright at him. I wanted to focus on him, to see what he truly was, but I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else. He seemed as transparent as any other person here, willing to help. Still, I couldn’t help staring and wondering why I hadn’t seen him in the book. Surely he was a magical being who should have at least had a mention, if not a picture in there somewhere. Even more so, I was wondering why I hadn’t seen him in any of my classes. He was new, no doubt about it. And a mystery.

  “Now that you know we’re all here to help and that we don’t know who’s responsible, I have a question,” John, one of the Woodsburls, said, forcing me to tear my attention away from the dragon boy. “Spritebloods hold some of the strongest magic there is and someone managed to kill one of them. Granted, she was trapped in human form at the time, but still, whoever could do something like that had to be strong.” He looked at the people who sat on either side of him, Ronnie on one side, and another Woodsburl on the other. “We each have our different strengths and weaknesses, but I think whoever it was, had to be stronger than any of us. Whoever it was, could kill again and Wynter was the only one of us who could possibly have taken them out and now she’s gone.”

  He’s got that right, I thought. The rage that I’d felt the night before in that vision was proof enough that somehow Wynter had known about her sister before anyone had the chance to tell her and while she’d certainly be a worthy opponent against the murderer, she’d chosen to leave. Her words had been somewhat cryptic, but I took it to mean that she was choosing to go in order to keep us all safe. While the Book of Skin didn’t have information on everything and everyone, I truly did believe it when it mentioned that Spritebloods occasionally enjoyed warlike notions.

  If there was one thing I didn’t want to see, it was Wynter losing her cool. It probably is best that she isn’t here.

  John had paused for a moment, seemingly trying to weigh his words before he continued, “What I’m getting at, is I realize that the Keepers have always ran by themselves as a Pack. But there’s only six of you and the forest wraps around everything in Bland County. I know you guys are there to protect everything in nature, including us, but it seems to me that we’re asking a lot of you. I’m a Woodsburl and I love the forest as much as anyone. I’ve got a stake in protecting it too, and I’m sure I can help. Would it be all right if we joined forces for a while?”

  There were murmurs of agreement again, several shaking their heads enthusiastically. Albie’s wings fluttered, lifting him partly out of his seat and a thick puff of smoke circled the head of the dragon boy.

  A huge smile stretched across Adam’s face as he looked at the eager group, so willing to help. “Yes. I would be honored to join forces with every one of you.”

  THE GROUP THAT congregated in Adam’s front yard was even larger than the one that had shown up at school. Once Adam realized he was going to be getting a ton of help, we’d made plans of meeting and setting up a schedule of who would help patrol the forest.

  Now there were more magical beings than I had ever seen in a single place. Not only did we have the kids from school, but some adults too.

  Too bad we didn’t have this big of a turnout when we went to fight Crow Woman, I thought.

  But then, some of these people weren’t cut out for battle. I watched Albie in the center of the yard, standing next to a woman who looked so much like him that I knew she must be his mother. Her delicate wings fluttered behind her. While she might be able to keep watch on something or someone, I seriously doubted she’d be able to fight them if it came to it.

  On the other hand, all of the Woodsburls who had helped us before were here, including Mr. Giles, who looked as grumpy and irritated as ever. Some of them hadn’t bothered to keep their magic hidden, and stood with their axes in hand, ready to do whatever was needed.

  I walked among the crowd, reaching out with my mind to see if there was anything at all that I could pick up on. So far, all I’d found was a migraine for my efforts. I rubbed my forehead with the back of my hand and walked up onto Adam’s porch and sat down on the edge.

  “We’ll split into groups,” Adam addressed the crowd. “Each group will be in charge of watching over a certain section of forest, closest to town. Our first priority is to keep everyone safe.”

  I covered my face with my hands. My fingertips could feel the throb of my pulse that was trying to beat its way out of my head.

  Adam quit speaking and turned around to look up at me, having picked up that something was wrong. I peeked out from between my fingers, then dropped my hands and pointed to my head and mouthed, “Headache. Aspirin.”

  He nodded and turned back to the group, continuing where he left off while I stood up and began walking toward the gift shop. There was always someone there to man the register. Surely they’d have something for a headache. I knew from past experiences there wasn’t as much as a cough drop in Adam’s house. He’d never been sick a day in his life. Finding something as simple as an aspirin in his house just wasn’t going to happen.

  I took the shortcut, leaving the road and cutting through the woods, following a dirt path that would take me away from the center of the Res and toward the main road, my brain thumping in time with each step I took.

  I’d been concentrating so much on the pain in my head that I nearly missed a dark figure, catching only a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. I whirled to the right, but saw nothing but trees.

  I’m seeing things, I thought, trying to convince myself that there hadn’t been anything there. No one is there.

  But there was, and I knew it. Everything in my being told me I was being watched.

  So many people here to help, it’s probably only one of them. I ignored the feeling of dread that tried to settle over me and continued to walk. I spotted the slope of the gift shop’s roof just ahead and walked faster.

  The be
ll on the door jangled as I stepped inside.

  “Hello, Nikki,” the woman behind the counter greeted me with a smile, her fingers fiddling with a small pendant that hung around her neck.

  “Hi.” The smile I returned was definitely a weak one. The person in charge of the gift shop was Mandi. I’d never spoken to her before, but I knew who she was. She was Reuben’s wife. Her husband had been the Trail Killer—the one who had murdered over a dozen hikers over the years. He tried to kill me too, but only because I’d moved into the house so near where he’d hidden the bodies.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t like Mandi, she’d always seemed nice enough. It was just that I’d always managed to keep a wide distance from her in hopes of warding off uncomfortable silences.

  Too late for that now.

  I smiled, knowing that it was stretching across my face like a jack-o’-lantern’s and likely showing every tooth that I had, but I couldn’t help it. “You wouldn’t happen to have any aspirin here, would you?” I asked. “My head is killing me.”

  “Absolutely.” She walked out from behind the counter to a small rack on the wall that held various travel-sized meds. She picked out a small packet and held it out to me. “There you go. There’s a mini-fridge on the back wall,” she pointed to the far side of the shop. “It has drinks in it. Feel free to help yourself.”

  I walked to the place she indicated and found the fridge, slid the door open and took out a bottle of water and brought it back to the counter to pay.

  “No, it’s on the house,” she insisted, when I pulled some money out of my pocket. “After all, if we can’t give our Seer something for a headache, then we don’t deserve to have her.”

  My smile was weaker than before and I knew it. Only the Pack referred to me as their Seer. I’d never been officially accepted into the tribe as one of them. I’d always known I was welcome here, but this was the first time that anyone else had referred to me by that title.

  It felt odd.

  “Thank you,” I managed, hoping that I didn’t sound like a lunatic.

  She smiled and nodded. “You’re very welcome.” Then, as if she’d noticed my discomfort, she changed the subject as I opened the packet and tossed the pills into my mouth. “Adam has quite the crowd today. It’s nice that the community is coming together to help.”

  My cheeks were full of water. I swallowed, sending the pills on their way before I answered. “Yes, it is.”

  Okay, now I’m sounding like a complete moron, I decided, edging toward the door. “Thanks again for everything,” I said, giving her another smile as I backed out of the gift shop.

  “You’re welcome,” she called out as the door shut behind me.

  “You’ve totally got to quit acting like an idiot,” I said, berating myself as I started back up the path toward Adam’s house. “She was being friendly and you’re being a complete…”

  I stopped, when I realized I was in the same spot where I had noticed the dark figure. I didn’t see anything now, but I noticed some grass that had been squashed. Someone had been there. It hadn’t been a figment of my imagination.

  Without thinking, I left the path. Once I made it to the grass, I noticed a broken branch nearby, then a footprint in the dirt. I tracked the mysterious person all the way back to the trees across from Adam’s yard.

  I picked up bits and pieces of the conversation still going there. I heard someone ask what would happen if they didn’t find the murderer soon. A blood moon was rising. Then what?

  But I didn’t get to concentrate on what else was said, because I bumped into someone. Literally. Instinctively, I reached out and grabbed the arm in front of me, hoping to keep myself and whoever I’d plowed into, from falling to the ground. The arm was solid, hard muscle and I realized that I had been the only one threatened with toppling into the dirt.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized, once I finally managed to straighten. I looked up, surprised to see familiar dark, shaggy hair. Immediately I thought of Brian, but then I spotted two dark brown eyes peering out from beneath the hair, not at all the sapphire blue eyes of my best friend.

  Darren, Mandi’s son, smiled at me as I turned loose of his arm. “It’s all right.” Then he leaned against a tree and crossed his arms over his chest, his attention turning back to Adam and the group. “They should be worried,” he said, though I didn’t know if he was talking to me or to himself. “I used to read about blood moons in Evan’s books when he was teaching me to be a Keeper. They aren’t something to take lightly.”

  “I’m sorry, what do you mean?” I knew Darren had been taught by Adam’s grandfather, back when they’d thought he was going to be the sixth and final Keeper to the Pack. But since then, things had changed. Brian had been the Keeper, and Adam’s grandfather had died. The lessons had stopped long ago. I decided I’d better elaborate. “What is a blood moon and why should they worry about it?”

  “It’s an eclipse, one of the strongest there is. They should worry because there is a myth that during a blood moon, magical properties can be enhanced or taken away should someone want to do something like that.” I saw something move beneath the surface of his eyes, something calculating. Dark. In that moment, I was reminded of who his father had been and a chill ran up my spine. “When the blood moon rises, everything they know can change.”

  3

  WYNTER WALKED SLOWLY through the forest. She wasn’t in a hurry to get to her destination. Quite the opposite, truth be told. She had left her beloved library, knowing where she must go, but dreading it just the same. At first, her reason to leave was to keep herself for exacting justice on the one responsible for Frollock’s death. But then logic kicked in and she knew she had to go for another reason.

  The trees didn’t part for her as she’d seen them do for the wolves. But they didn’t swat at her as they were known to do when her power as a Spriteblood was at its peak. No doubt that would change soon enough. For now, they ignored her as they would a human; roots to trip her should she not watch her footing and briars to catch at her clothing. As if on cue, she heard a tiny book being ripped free of her dress and felt the cool air brush her skin through the new hole. She looked down to see the tiny bit of paper spiral down, disappearing into a small plume of smoke the instant it touched the earth. She lifted her leg just enough to see the translucent flesh of her knee through the hole.

  She frowned, then concentrated, thinking of a new book she’d discovered only the week before. An instant later, the hole was patched and pages fluttered as easily as they had before with a new story written where an old one had been.

  This was one of the rare occasions she was happy to have the magic of a Spriteblood. Otherwise, she would have been content to be only human for the rest of her days.

  A crash broke the silence and she moved ever so slightly, hiding behind one large tree. She stayed still, waiting. It didn’t take long, only a matter of seconds, when she saw three Woodsburls run by, completely oblivious to her presence.

  They were the third group of magicals she’d run across on her way to the mountain. Through the second group, an odd match of two wood nymphs and one young dragon, she’d learned about the Keepers choosing to include other magicals in their patrols with hopes of keeping everyone safe.

  All three groups had come within an arm’s length of her and never knew she was there. Their hearts might be in the correct place, but that was about all they were contributing to the cause, she decided, watching one Woodsburl swing his axe in a wide arc as he ran by.

  Some creatures were meant to hunt and were given special talents to help them do precisely that. The wolves, for example, had their noses to tell them everything they needed to know. Had they been one of the groups she’d run across, they certainly would have known something was near, even if she did manage to mask her scent somewhat. She’d seen them run as a pack before and knew they would have been more thorough and would have taken their time as they scoured each inch of terrain.

  Still, there were so
me perks to joining forces with the others, she supposed, as another loud crash erupted from the place where the Woodsburls had disappeared.

  Power in numbers, she thought. Perhaps if they stay together, no one else will die.

  That naturally brought memories of her sisters front and center to her mind as she continued onward, journeying deeper into the forest.

  The four of them had been born within the mountain at the same time, hundreds of years earlier. So many, that she’d lost count along the way. That fact hadn’t bothered her at all until recently. Because now there were only two of them left. Numbers were beginning to matter.

  She struggled to remember the first day—the day she became a Spriteblood so long ago. The memory was there in her mind, she was certain of it, but it always faded over time, becoming wispy and uncertain, like an old photograph. The only way to bring the memory back anew was to return to the place she had been made. Only there would the details of that day spark to life again and become fresh in her mind.

  A cloud blocked out the sun and she looked up, just long enough to gauge how much time she had before darkness came.

  “I’ll be there before sundown,” she told herself. Though she wasn’t happy to return, she knew she must. Because just as the others had banded together in hopes of greater strength, her power would have to be at its strongest too, should it be needed. That only gave her a couple of days to do what she must.

  She would have to flee the mountain before the blood moon rose. Because then, she knew he would be there too. And as strong as she was, she knew he would always be stronger.