And the Creek Don't Rise

by R. M. Gilmore

  My breath caught. I’d been trying to escape Havana for years, the reality of it was more painful than I’d anticipated. “No. I’ve never been outside of Arkansas.”

  Puck stood up straight. “Say what? Oh, baby, I really do have things to show you.” He pushed his arm under mine, hooking our elbows. “Pack light, but be sure to bring long pants and a sweater. Something with a hood would be beneficial.”

  He walked me up the steps to the door. My mind played Garret’s face over and over. The sound of Nana hitting the floor made me jump.

  Puck stopped, put his hands on either side of my face. “It’s for the best. I can’t promise it’s going to be easy, but I can tell you that you’ve got magic inside you. It won’t stop. It won’t quit. It’ll be you until you die. Accept what you are or it’ll eat you alive.” He shrugged, brows raised. “What I can promise is my allegiance.” He bowed. “Until the end.”

  Dark eyes, nothing like the lightning bugs of his stallion, locked onto mine until I finally nodded. Better smelling shit.

  I pushed open the door that was never locked. Silent. Empty. We were alone, but surely Garret or Mama or both would be out looking for me. I just hoped shock kept them put until I could get outta Dodge.

  Puck moseyed through the living room, looking closely at the few pictures I’d hung on the wall. He grinned at one of me standing thigh deep in a mud pit. Rusty’d taken it the summer the creek behind the Kennedy farm flooded damn near half of Havana.

  My room, filled with things I’d collected over my two decades, seemed hollow. Useless for all intents and purposes. I hadn’t slept in my bed in too many nights. The idea of knickknacks and old love notes was just so damned human. More human than I’d ever be again. If I’m being honest, probably more human than I’d ever been to begin with.

  Pack light. I fingered the stone that hung from my neck. It’d be with me, my Black Sentry, my guard. The small cotton bag that it’d come in sat on my night table. I grabbed it, plucked a few photos of me and Hattie, Garret, and Rusty from their home on my mirror, and slid it all in the side pocket of my duffle bag—which I hadn’t used since grade nine camp.

  I’d laid Mama Lee’s dress out flat on my bed. If she decided to come looking for it, I thought it best if Garret could find it easily. I pulled her hat on. It’d be my something borrowed—or however that worked.

  My favorite boots were gone, laid to waste in Nana’s living room. I closed my eyes and tried to see her face, smiling, happy, not on her hardwood floor. It wouldn’t come.

  Bag slung over one shoulder—Huckleberry Finn, all I needed was a handkerchief on a stick—I stopped at the door. One last look.

  The cardboard that Garret put up after I’d crashed through the window was still pulled back from the night I’d squeezed out. I’d made my bed, closed all my drawers, left it clean for him. Easy. I didn’t truly need anything in that room, but I sure as hell wanted it. Given more time, resources, I’d have packed that whole damn thing.

  If I could fit a massive green dog inside my body, I could certainly find a way to pack an entire room into one bag. Right?

  Farewell

  We hit Louisiana by dusk. I’d sat in the passenger seat, silent, hands trembling, since watching Garret’s shit brown house get smaller in the side-view mirror. The empty pit in my stomach grew deeper with every mile marker. A cavernous hole I’d never fill.

  “If you’ll look out your window, you’ll see Shreveport. A bustling metropolis filled with people and places to get lost in.”

  I pressed my forehead to the glass. “It’s so big.”

  Puck chuckled once. “That’s what she said,” he murmured.

  I scowled at him over my shoulder. “Aren’t you, like, an ancient being?”

  Heavy sigh. “I’ve been away from Cnoc Meadha for centuries. This is what living among the masses has done to me.”

  “Knock-what?”

  A dimple poked into his cheek. “In English, Knockma. It’s my home. Was. Your home too. Although, Cu Sidhe hasn’t stepped foot in the realm for eons.”

  “Two homeless fairies. What a world.” I let out a hollow laugh. “Why was? Almost kill your brother too?”

  Sidewalks crowded with people whizzed by. “Daddy kicked me out.” He snorted. “That is a story too old and too long to tell. Today is your day.”

  Certain I’d be saying the same in a few decades, I let it go. We’d have plenty of time for long, old tales. I had bigger questions burning a hole in my head. “What do you know about how I came to be? More specifically, the ritual, the women?”

  Quiet for enough breaths, I wondered if I’d broken him. “They disappeared?”

  “Yes,” I squeaked. “Four dead bodies just walked right outta the morgue in Russellville.”

  He shook his head. “They didn’t walk. Just…” A warbled whistle pushed through pursed lips and he wiggled his fingers. “Vanished. They’re ghosts, Lynn.”

  Avery. “Ghosts of a curse long past,” I repeated under my breath.

  “Precisely. Croí na Tlachtga is one spoke in your wheel, babe. The magic that binds you and your feral beasty. When the time comes, they’ll come.”

  “And I’ll die.”

  He nodded. “The cycle continues.”

  “Why? How?” Tense hands scrubbed down my face. “Is there a book on this or somethin’?”

  “Not on earth.”

  “What about Avery? She’s my guide—was—she’d know, right?”

  Silent, Puck watched the road. Orange tinted his face as the sun set. “Possibly. If you could find her, convince her to help you.” Fingers tapped the wheel. “Tell me to kick rocks,” he added, heartache in his voice.

  Admittedly, I didn’t know either of them well, but Puck had been there when I needed him, when Avery wasn’t. I couldn’t right walk away now, sitting shotgun, my only belongings in his trunk.

  “No, no that’s… that ain’t who I am. Never was. Just scared is all.” Lavender clouds streaked across the reddening sky. “What about Knockma?” I turned to look at him. “That’s our home, right? We could go there and—”

  “No,” he protested. “You can’t—not yet. When you’re stronger, more controlled… I’m sorry I can’t give you the answers you’re looking for.”

  Hand wrapped tight around the Black Sentry, I closed my eyes, searching for any help it’d give me. My beast rumbled, stirring, preparing herself for impending freedom. “Where will we go? How do I… hunt? What if the old girl busts free in the middle of a shopping mall?” Thoughts spun loose, spilling in one long stream.

  Puck laid a hand on my leg. “Take a breath. In and out.” I pulled in one shaking breath. “You’re still new. It’s going to take time. Percy was… inept. His vengeance was poorly reaped. You, my dear, sweet girl, were born for this. The Cu is stretching her legs, feeling you out. Every day is easier, yes?”

  “More and more.”

  He rubbed my leg. “You’ll get there. Give her time. She knows what to do. Listen, she’ll tell you.”

  “Until then, how do I keep from killing people?”

  He held up a finger. “Ah, how do you keep from killing the wrong people?”

  That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

  The more days spread between the man with the girls, the more the beast longed for something I didn’t have to give. I couldn’t say it wanted blood, because that’d be inaccurate. It wanted vengeance. In a world as unjust as ours, surely there was someone out there in need of smiting.

  Thick woods blocked the half-moon high in the sky. Holding my girl back took everything I had in me, but to save the innocent I’d hand over my last breath.

  Puck pulled off his jeans and T-shirt and stood with his rounded backside facing me. I’d brought a change of clothes to avoid being naked in the woods another damn night.

  “Are you read
y to get started?” he asked, turning around, his frank and beans on display for me and the world to see.

  Looking anywhere but at him, I asked, “What is it that I’m doing?”

  “You’re searching for the catalyst that sparks your beast.”

  “All I have to do is let her loose.”

  “Exactly,” he said, nodding his curly head.

  My beast rumbled in her hiding place, anxious to break free. “You really don’t know what you’re talking about, do you?”

  “Look, I’m sorry Avery left you.” She hadn’t left me so much as let my choices be what they were. “But she’s not like me—not true Sidhe. All Bean Sidhe were once human like you. Their place here is a curse more than an inherited trait. Avery, in her death, just so happened to be chosen to guide you, Percy, and Gwendolyn, until you’re able to get out there and do it to it.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t know why so don’t ask. I’ve been away from Cnoc Meadha for a very, very long time, and as such have not been in the loop.” He sighed. Still quite naked.

  I let it go. We all had our demons, and judging by Puck’s reluctance to spill the beans, it seemed his were the kind with teeth and claws. I could relate.

  “I’m just going for it then.” I changed the subject, anxious in my own right to escape into my beast’s world.

  “Keep your mind open to what the beast needs. Don’t lose Lynnie, but allow yourself to be Cu Sidhe. Remember, you’re always Cu Sidhe. The beast is merely a symbol for what you are.”

  I dragged a deep breath through my nose—sucking in the awkward scent of the bayou, part sweet, part dank. Teal slivers of moonlight cut through shaggy trees. She was there, waiting, just beneath the surface. Free-flowing electric magic danced down my arms, crackling in my palms.

  With a crooked finger in my mind, I beckoned her. Come on, old girl. It’s time to play.

  In an explosion of fur and bone, my body burst at its core and the beast came to be. No time to feel joints crack and bend. Not a moment to savor the sickening sensation of my teeth shifting to make room for fangs. No time for slopping crackles of magic.

  Puck stood naked with his hands on his hips like Peter Pan. “Well, that was unexpected.”

  I panted, specks of snot popping from my snout. The change wasn’t easy on either one of us, no matter how fast or mystical it became. I shook my heavy coat and the last bits of human slop flung off and into the dirt. Once again, the world was bathed in shades of green. I longed for that devilish violet that meant I let loose to reap revenge. Puck reached his now emerald hand out and scratched me under the chin.

  “Pretty girl.” He patted me on the head. “Of all the creatures on this earth, you are the only one I cannot become.” Puck pressed his forehead to mine. “Extraordinary little beastie you are.”

  Glimmering silver lights shivered around him. The world shifted and Puck snapped from existence. The shiny black steed took his place.

  Kisatchie Bayou, thickly covered in underbrush, seemed cumbersome for a horse to get on to a full gallop, but I wasn’t the one on four hooves so who was I to call it a problem. Puck’s firefly eyes glowed in the shadows beneath the tallest pine. He whinnied, flipping his glossy mane, taunting, calling us out to play.

  Like old friends catching up, Puck’s steed and my beast stalked the night, splashing over the bank of the bayou, bathing in moonlight. I caught and all but devoured a rabbit, like things with sharp teeth and claws tended to do. It wasn’t enough. The beast had a quota to fill and weren’t a hare nor varmint on that list.

  The moon high in the sky, Puck clomped through over a fallen log, pushing through brush back to the bank where we’d left our clothes. Lichen dangled from his hind end, clung to his shiny mane. Midstride, the universe flickered. Puck’s bare feet padded over rocks and twigs, swamp mud stuck to the soles.

  I fought and tugged at my own soul to pull the human back out, but it wouldn’t budge. My human-self tossed and turned inside me mirroring the sensation of the beast rolling and rumbling when she wanted out. I struggled, pulled, yanked at my own humanity locked inside the beast. Puck had told me he could help me train the beast to cooperate like it had for centuries when it belonged to my ancestors. The only thing Puck had done was get me stuck inside myself. My shared heart raced and the beast started to pant. Panic washed over us.

  “Come on, babe. You’re in there somewhere. Come on out,” he coaxed.

  Mama Lee’s low, even hum played over in my head. I forced myself to calm down and focus. Nana’s smiling face popped in and I almost lost it, but I let the image stay, appreciated it for what it was and ignored the feeling it left, like an oil slick in my soul. My heartbeat slowed, steadying. Calmly, I called at my human, trapped and scared deep inside me.

  Puck ran his hand over the top of my furry head. “It’s time to come out.”

  I agreed and the fur along my arms sucked back into my skin. I wondered where it went once it wasn’t covering my body anymore, got a little grossed out, and decided to forget about the technicalities of it all.

  Instead, I focused on being human again.

  Puck grinned, looking down at me, deep lines carved his cheeks. “There you are.”

  “Here I am,” I panted and swallowed back vomit.

  “You did it. The moon is high in the sky and you forced yourself in and out of Cu Sidhe at your will.” He looked at me for a bit. “Does it hurt?”

  I shook my head. “A scratch,” I joked.

  He nodded and his fluffy hair bounced. “Are you okay?”

  I wasn’t. I shook my head a second before I upchucked on Puck’s naked lower half. I clamped my hand over my mouth. “I’m so sorry,” I muffled through my hand.

  Puck laughed and the night echoed with delight as if he’d forced it to be joyful right along with him. “Well, I have to say, you sure keep things exciting.” He put his hand on my shoulder and let it slide down my back.

  I did my best to cover my parts and scooted to my clothes that sat in a pile just a bit from me. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled over and over again.

  “It really is okay, Lynnie. It’s just partially digested food and stomach acid.” He shrugged, rubbing dirt over his legs, soaking up the wet bits that hadn’t fallen off when he stood. “It’ll wash right off.” I shook my head and pulled my jeans on. “Look, I’ll be right back.” The air shifted. He was gone by the time I turned around.

  “Real damn nice, Lynnie. Go and puke all over the one person still on your side. Stupid,” I said to myself.

  I pulled on my boots and kicked dirt over the patch of my partially digested food and stomach acid that was left behind. Rustling in the woods behind me caught my attention. “Puck?” He didn’t answer. I waited for an animal of some kind to come scurrying out of the darkness but nothing came.

  Feeling sorry for myself, I shoved my hands in my pockets and kicked at the leaves and brush. My head jerked and looked over my shoulder when a screeching wail echoed through the night. It sounded like a woman. I thought for a second I’d lucked out and stumbled on another bad man doing bad things. No fiery instinct sprung loose in my gut. Another screech floated over the swampy creek.

  “Avery?” I called out, listening for more familiar shrieks. No more screams or any other sounds came from the night. “Avery?” I cupped my hands and hollered with all my might.

  “She’s not here.” Puck stepped into the clearing, naked and free of vomit.

  I swallowed, embarrassed I’d puked, but more so that I’d hoped my keening friend had come back for me. “What was that shrieking?”

  He shrugged, slipping pants over his ass. “Possibly Bean Sidhe. Avery isn’t the only ghostly woman floating around.” He turned to face me, pants undone, a dark line of hair poking out the top. “Most likely a fox.” White teeth bared bright against the darkness. I didn’t return the grin. He pulled a shi
rt over his head, moving close enough to touch. “She’s not coming back.” Hands wrapped around my arms. Dark eyes glanced down at my chest and back up. “I’m sorry.”

  I covered bare boobs with arms across my chest. “I don’t know if I can do this, Puck.” It wasn’t Avery’s disappearance that weighed heavy; it was the idea that everything I’d known was gone. Right and truly gone. I could never show my face in Havana. Never look my brother in the eye. Never look myself in the eye.

  Strong arms pulled me in, boobs pressed against his chest. “You can, because you must.”

  Old Friend

  Long days flew by, quickly becoming weeks. Havana, my time of innocence, seemed like a past life, recalled only in dreams. It was in those vivid dreams that I lived. I had it all again. It was mine.

  Like a lost limb, a ghost unseen but felt in prickling tingles, I missed who I was in Havana. Just an American girl, raised on promises. Just a little thing. I yearned for her like a lost lover. The frantic pleading of a sinner for forgiveness.

  Limbs don’t grow back. Lovers tend to stay gone. And sinners, well, sinners went to hell. I was the one who sent them there.

  I’d assumed bringer of death would be a more active position. The beast had been edgy, nights out wndering, no hunt, no target. We’d made an excited emergency stop in Texarkana. My emerald vision alerting a false alarm.

  Most days, I slept. Finding solace in the memories of home. Puck dragged me through towns and cities—filled with people, and coffee shops, and buskers, and bike lanes—one after the other, searching for that violet beacon. It’d come so easy that day at Cove Lake. Finding those girls, hunting that man. Three weeks on and the beast grew restless.

  Puck was just happy being among people. Watching, talking, touching, he was at home in a crowd. Hospitals were a favorite of his, undoubtedly, but since I’d have rather had oral surgery, we settled on travelers—bus stops, airports, train stations.

  Kicked back on his end of the wooden bench, making a mess of peanut shells at his feet, he grinned at every person walking by.