by Emery Blake
The cabin appeared in the moonlight. A puff of smoke rising gray in the cold, starry sky. The cabin itself a dark spot on the crest of a hill, a deeper darkness in the night. Gitchee bent down, close to Mack’s muzzle and whispered to him. They spent a few moments in what could only be described as some kind of one-sided conversation. But when Gitchee rose up, he said, confidently,
“There are three guards, trolls, and all of them have been drinking.”
He must have been able to discern my incredulous expression, even in the low light, because he elaborated.
“Mack has a very good nose, you see.”
I nodded, even though that didn’t clear up how the bear was able to communicate such detailed information. I decided not to question further. After all, the only thing that mattered was getting Kaia out safely. The provenance didn’t matter as long as the information was accurate.
We stalked up the hill, the shadow form of the cabin growing larger as we approached. Slowly, other shapes began to emerge, the tall, heavy forms of the troll guardians. They were not disguised. This deep in the forest, in the dark of night, they had no need of secrecy.
I became very nervous. I had never used my magic offensively before. I still barely had any idea how it worked. My only idea was to try to do what I had done to the door, but to focus it on a troll. I reached out with my mind, opening myself up to the electric tingling and felt it suffuse my body. The warmth radiated out from my core, filling my hands with heat despite the cold, night air.
Without warning, Mack charged forward. Noiselessly, he sprang at the nearest dark shape. A guttural scream from the troll alerted his allies and they came running to his aid. In the moonlight, I could barely make out what was happening, a writhing mass of fur and fang, of gray pebbled skin and hooked claw. I had little time to watch since the two other trolls were upon us. One leapt toward Gitchee, the old man keeping him at bay with deft thrusts of his wide bladed spear.
The other swiped at me with its long, heavily muscled arm. I hopped sideways, dancing just out of reach and raised my hand. I was ready to release the magic, just the way I had blown out the door. I steadied myself, visualizing what would happen, making sure that I didn’t freeze or flinch like I did with the buda, in training.
And then my feet went flying out from under me.
Mack had rolled one of the trolls across the ground and it slammed into the back of my legs. I flipped backwards and landed hard on my shoulder. Dirt and leaves filled my mouth and the air went out of my lungs. I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees and searched about for the troll that I had been about to blast. He was striding down the hill, raising his clawed hand to strike.
I pushed myself down the hill, scooting backward until my back hit against a tree trunk. The troll was almost on top of me. Frantic, I raised both of my hands and opened myself to the magic. Warmth flooded through me. It felt like a well gushing with hot water under pressure. I watched as light, a bright, crackling, blue light arced from my fingertips and slammed into the troll. Its dark body, cloaked in shadow, was illuminated in cold blue. His body shuddered and then flew backwards, crashing into the cabin.
The after-image of the magic kept flashing in my eyes. I saw the other two trolls, both locked in combat with Mack and Gitchee. They stared at their fellow, now slumped lifeless against the wall of the cabin, and then stared at me. In the moments where they were distracted, the bear and old warrior struck killing blows.
Silence reigned in the forest.
I pushed myself up against the rough bark of the tree. My shoulder hurt, and I was a little unsteady on my feet, but I was alive. I trudged up the hill to the cabin, where Mack and Gitchee were waiting. Mack’s black fur was slicked in places with blood, though whether it was his or the trolls, I couldn’t tell. He certainly gave no indication of injury, but instead went right toward the door, nudging it open with his muzzle. Gitchee, entirely unscathed, walked in behind him. The old man was more than competent with his spear. Kaia was right that he was something other than human. What, exactly, was unclear. But there would be a time for figuring that out later, after Kaia was safe.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I walked past the troll I had blasted. He was motionless. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from his chest and a hideous smell emanated from his charred skin. I had killed him. I told myself that it was self-defense, him or me, I had no choice. But no matter the justifications, which were all valid, I still had killed this creature in a violent and gruesome manner. It was unsettling. It made me look at myself in a different light. One I wasn’t entirely sure I liked.
There was no sign of Malcolm, thankfully. The cabin had a single room with a small hatch in the floor. While my two companions searched every nook and cranny of the small building, I flung open the hatch and bolted down the steep stairs. It may have been foolish, I didn’t know whether the only guards were the ones lying outside. But I was eager to find the Valkyrie.
I found a light switch at the base of the stairs, barely illuminated by the thin light dripping in from the windows and holes in the roof above. I flicked it and filled the room with cold, white light. Kaia was there. She was tied to a chair just as I had been, but her bonds were far more substantial. Heavy ropes wound around her legs and chest, giving her no freedom of movement at all. She wouldn’t have been able to resist or to avoid the blows that had left their evidence on her face. But through the bruises and cuts, she smiled up at me as I crossed the room.
“I knew it was a good idea to bring you.”
“Yeah, and I knew it was a bad idea to come.”
Her laughter was cut short as she grimaced from the pain. I set to work undoing the knots. While I was working, I told her of Malcolm, what he had said about the Opener of Ways, and of my escape. Once she was free, I helped her to her feet. She walked sorely, gingerly, toward the stairs, leaning on my shoulder. I tried not to falter, but the woman was much bigger than me. I got her to the stairs and she climbed, slowly, into the moonlit room.
“Gitchee, thank you for your help,” Kaia said, stretching her long limbs.
“We had a deal. I cannot hunt with you if you are trapped in a basement.”
Kaia looked at me, her eyebrow arched to as great a degree as the swelling would allow.
“I figured out what killed that man. It is a wendigo.”
Kaia’s face fell.
“Good work. But that is bad news.”
“Wendigo are dangerous,” Gitchee nodded knowingly. “But we have little choice. It must be destroyed before it kills again.”
“Our policy is to try to capture creatures and return them to their own worlds. We will only kill it if it is necessary.” I repeated the line from my training.
Kaia’s face was impassive.
“I think we are outside of TRIP guidelines here, Skylar. You told me these thugs were working for the Opener of Ways, that they are behind the creature, the wendigo. This is not an instance where a creature has wandered through an unregulated portal. This is an act of aggression. We must respond in kind.”
“But isn’t the wendigo just a tool, then? The trolls were clearly working for Malcolm, but trolls are intelligent, they made their choice. Is the wendigo voluntarily doing Malcolm’s bidding or was it just brought here, and Malcolm is setting him loose?”
“I don’t know. I have never dealt with a wendigo before. But it doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Kaia’s eyes flashed dangerously. I could see she was angry at having been mistreated, embarrassed at having been caught. But I wasn’t going to back down. I wasn’t going to sign on for killing a creature, no matter how nasty it might seem to me, if I wasn’t sure about its culpability.
Thankfully, Gitchee interjected.
“I do not know this Opener of Ways, but I know wendigo. I have hunted them before, but not for many, many years. I will offer you this one piece of advice. A wendigo is a force of pure malevolence. It is fueled by greed, hunger, ravenousness. It
is something out of balance. It will kill simply for the sake of killing. The emptiness inside of it can never be filled, its lust for death and blood never be satisfied. I will destroy this thing, if I can.”
I was outnumbered and had the least experience. But I still wanted to know, for my own sake, that there was no other way. I mentioned the creature behind the door in the room where I’d been held, and the others agreed that would be the best place to start.
Kaia got up slowly. I considered asking her if she wanted to travel back to Inter-realm, to rest up and get some help. But she gave me a look as if she could read my thoughts. Her expression was firm, she was not going to give up or admit defeat, not while she could still walk. Personally, I had always found pride an admirable quality, but only in small doses.
The moon was hidden behind a bank of clouds when we walked back into the forest. There was barely enough light to see. Mack took the lead, like a faithful hound that just happened to be nearly five-hundred pounds. Gitchee followed just in front of me, his head lowered as if he could read signs in the ground in this low light. Kaia hobbled at the rear. We walked in silence, the loudest noise was Mack’s heavy breathing as he took in the scents on the night air.
That air was becoming steadily colder as we ventured further toward the cabin where I’d last seen what I was sure was the wendigo. I remembered how the forest felt near the site of the attack, an unnatural cold. The chill seeped into my bones, I had to clench my jaw to prevent my teeth from chattering. I almost ran into Gitchee when he stopped. Mack had his muzzle lifted, breathing in deep breaths. Everything else was silent. The forest was as quiet as a deep winter, when all the sounds are muffled by fresh snow.
A thin sound broke the silence, like a high-pitched scream heard from far away. The chill that ran up my spine was not from the cold air. I saw the tension in my companions. Even Mack shifted his massive paws uncertainly.
The scream came again, this time closer. It was fuller, richer, and more harrowing. It sounded like a thousand individual screams all wound around each other. Gitchee hefted his leaf-bladed spear, holding it at hip level. Mack lowered his head towards the ground, crouching into a charge posture. A golden light glowed behind me. Kaia was clad in her shining armor again, her glimmering spear radiating light in the penumbral forest.
The next scream was ear-splitting. It echoed around the trees, disguising the creature’s location. I steadied myself and tried to open myself up to the magic. The warm, electric tingling did not come. I shut my eyes and focused, taking deep steady breaths to quiet my heartbeat. Still nothing.
Mack issued a low growl, just at the bottom of my aural range. I could almost feel the reverberations in my chest. It was reassuring. I was afraid, but I was not alone. My head was on a swivel, looking for something, anything, among the trees.
Finally, I saw it. A patch of chalky white moving through the underbrush. It was the same color I saw from the parking lot the other day. And it was getting closer. I tapped Kaia on the shoulder and pointed. She nodded. We spread out, wordlessly, giving ourselves space to maneuver, but staying close enough to react and help each other. Kaia, Gitchee, and Mack stepped forward. Kaia motioned me to stay put. I remembered that I was unarmed, if I was going to help, it wasn’t going to be in close quarters.
My heart was pounding out of my chest. The patch of cadaverous white skin had formed into a vaguely man shape about twenty paces away from us. It stood, nearly seven feet tall, on the edge of a clear patch of ground, staring. Its eyes glowed pale green, just as I had seen in my basement cell. Arms, sinewy and too long for its body, opened low and wide. Skeletal fingers, tipped with hooked claws, flexed and stretched. Its chest was gaunt, skin pulled tight around its rib cage. But despite its emaciated appearance, it moved with feline grace and I knew it was fiercely strong. Even facing four enemies, it showed no fear.
The wendigo’s face was nearly human, but with skin sunken in, clinging to the bone. And its jaw was hinged much further back, allowing it to open wide enough to fit my whole thigh. Narrow, needle-sharp teeth lined its mouth instead of molars, and wicked canines overlapped each other across the front. Those teeth formed into a wicked grin as Kaia charged.
The Valkyrie covered the space between them in a few strong strides, her pain and soreness forgotten in the thrill of battle. But slowed as she was by hours spent in bondage, the wendigo was too quick for her. She planted her feet and jabbed lightning fast with her spear, the golden blade flashing in and out like a striking viper. But the wendigo’s gaunt form evaded every thrust. It danced around her playfully. And then it stopped playing. It dodged around the spear point and landed a back handed blow across Kaia’s face, knocking the golden warrior through the air. She landed with a thud in the soft forest soil, her armor winked out of sight.
Mack and Gitchee had moved closer, widening their approach to get at the wendigo from different directions. But again, the wendigo was too quick. The bear and the old man who had been so adept in dispatching the trolls were left swinging at air. The wendigo swiped at Mack, eliciting a howl of pain. Gitchee was left standing alone, the spear held level at his waist was shaking as he faced down the pale creature.
I was kneeling by Kaia. Her breath was ragged, but she was alive. I looked up at the wendigo. It was stalking towards Gitchee. It took its time, savoring the kill that it saw was inevitable.
I felt the warm, electric tingling surge into me. The magic flowed out to my fingertips and I could feel it crackling, like a log spitting in a campfire. I stood up and paced a wide circle, trying to get an angle to attack the wendigo. But it circled with me, keeping Gitchee between us. It looked at me and lifted its nose in the air, like Mack, and smelled. I didn’t know if it could tell I was filled with magic or not, but it turned about and ran back into the black forest.
I ran after it without a second thought. The magic buoyed my confidence. That, or it made me stupid. I left Kaia behind. Gitchee tried to follow but I outpaced him. I followed the pale shape as it floated ahead of me, ethereal in the darkness.
In a depression ringed by massive pine trees, trunks too wide for four people to link arms around, the wendigo turned to face me. A piercing scream shattered the night. I pressed my hands to my ears as the eldritch sound resonated through the forest. By the time it had ended, the wendigo was upon me. I dove out of the reach of its claws, feeling the rush of air as it just missed the back of my leg. I landed lightly and rolled back onto my feet. The wendigo charged at me again. I didn’t have time to raise my hands so I released the magic into the ground in front of his feet.
Wet dirt erupted in a bright blaze of blue light. The wendigo’s pale form flew above my head. I turned to watch as it slammed, headfirst into the side of one of the giant pines. The sickening crunch of its skull filled the hollow. It fell, limp, onto the ground. I trotted over to its prone form. It lay flat on its back, eyes wide open and black, the pale green light extinguished. The roundness of its skull was crumpled.
I collapsed against the tree trunk, sucking in deep breaths. I looked around, hoping to see Gitchee or Kaia cresting the hill. But they were not there. Instead, I saw a cold, dark purple light flickering. Malcolm stood there. His face was lit from below, giving him a ghostly quality. He smiled at me, almost kindly, and then turned away. As he turned, his dark hair swung to the side, exposing his ear. A pointed ear, just like Finian’s.
Malcolm was an elf.
He created an opening in the Veil and stepped through without looking back.
Gitchee was the first into the hollow, his chest heaving. He trotted over to me and checked the wendigo’s body with the point of his spear. Satisfied it was dead, he turned his attention to me.
“I didn’t realize I had gotten so old!” he huffed, clapping me on the shoulder.
Mack appeared next, with Kaia slumped over his back. She was awake, but still groggy.
“You did it,” she said weakly.
“It was almost an accident.”
“Accide
nt or no, the wendigo is dead, and you are here. Didn’t try to capture it?” she said wryly.
“No, I was honestly just trying to keep it from killing me, the tree did the rest.”
She smiled. “All the same, jobs done, eh?”
“Let’s go home.”
Gitchee walked up and scratched Mack behind the ears.
“I hope you ladies will come back here if we have any more trouble, you two are handy in a scrap.”
“Thank you, Gitchee, for everything.”
“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s what I do, or did, more precisely. Good hunting to you!”
Kaia climbed off the black bear and wobbled over to me, placing her arm on my shoulder. She held on tightly as I opened the Veil and took us home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I stepped through the Veil, feeling the now familiar shock of cold that was gone in an instant, like the memory of jumping into cold water.
The Valkyrie hung heavy on my shoulder.
Kaia wasn’t just taller than me, she was so solid that she weighed considerably more than her frame would initially suggest.
Thankfully, the square in front of the medical center was filled with people, so in a moment I was assisted by some of the hospital staff, a pair of broad-shouldered nagas, their muscular human torsos transitioning to a thick snake-like lower half. They each took one of the Valkyrie’s arms and slithered quickly towards the hospital entrance.
I tried to keep up for a few steps, but then a wave of exhaustion crashed over me, threatening to drown me as I stood in the plaza.
I barely noticed the crowd of people who had slowed their journeys to wherever they had been going to stare at me.
Looking down at my torn and muddy clothes, I understood why I was attracting so much attention. Not eager to further make a spectacle of myself, I started to walk back to my apartment.
I didn’t get very far.
