by Alan Baxter
Tom’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You what?’
Isiah tried to make his face as soft and sympathetic as possible. Not an easy task. ‘I’m really sorry if I scare you, but you’re in danger and you need help.’
‘No, you’re freaking me out. I never told anyone about the dreams.’
‘So you know I’m telling the truth. I can help you.’
‘Why would you help me? Why do I need help?’
‘It’s my job. I have to look out for certain people at certain times. It’s hard to explain.’
Isiah watched Tom’s face crease as he thought. He needed the young man to believe him. ‘Are you an angel?’ Tom asked, disbelief evident in his tone.
Isiah laughed. ‘No, not even close. But my best friend is.’
Tom shook his head, turned away. ‘I’m off,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘Leave me alone.’
Isiah nodded, staying seated on the wooden bench. ‘Remember me, Tom Jamieson. I’ll see you in your dreams.’
Tom stopped, half-turned back. His face twisted in confusion and more than a little fear. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then changed his mind and ran back out into the sunshine.
Isiah watched him go, wondering if he’d done the right thing. He didn’t have time for subtlety. The equinox occurred in two nights and the kid needed to be ready.
Tom walked home with one eye out for the freaky stranger. The man had scared him. He looked like he’d been carved from rock, exuding a kind of solidity and strength Tom had never experienced before. And he knew things he shouldn’t. That’s what scared Tom most. How could he know about the nightmares? And what did he mean, I’ll see you in your dreams?
Tom ignored the ire of his parents when he got home, the usual reprimands for dirtiness and tardiness. At least he’d had a chance to talk to Jenna. That made the afternoon worthwhile. He had so nearly asked her out, but lost his nerve at the last minute. Next time he would ask her for sure. They’d won the game and Swinten’s had immediately challenged them to a rematch in three days. Tom had asked Jenna if she’d come to watch again and she’d blushed and nodded. Next time he would ask her out on a date. Definitely next time.
He ate his dry dinner from the oven, weathering stares of annoyance from his mother, then retreated to his room. Homework took most of the evening, then he turned on his Xbox. Trying to avoid sleep he played games for too long. Eventually his eyes grew heavy and he crawled into bed. Sleep washed over him the moment his head hit the pillow.
He stood in a wide, dark forest. Trees heavy with moss and dark bark loomed all around. With a whimper he started walking. Why was he here? How could he get home? A distant horn brayed and ice water filled his stomach. For some reason that was a very scary sound. He turned a full circle, looking for something, anything that could give him some kind of direction. The horn sounded again.
Tom turned in the opposite direction and started walking. As he strode through the thick undergrowth, trying not to trip on roots and vines, a heavy drumming began. He started to run. As he ran the drumming got louder, becoming the thunder of hundreds of hooves.
With a cry of fear Tom doubled his pace, careening headlong from the sound, knowing deep inside that it meant him harm. He ran into something hard and bounced off, sitting heavily on the ground with a cry of surprise and pain.
He looked up, saw scuffed leather boots, dark jeans, a scruffy leather jacket over a t-shirt. The stranger’s carved granite face looked down at him kindly, framed in shoulder length black hair. ‘Sorry if I scared you. I’m Isiah.’
Tom shook his head, mouthing unspoken words.
‘From the park earlier?’ Isiah said. ‘I told you I’d see you in your dreams.’
Tom shook his head again. ‘This can’t be real.’
Isiah smiled. ‘It’s both real and not real. But when your dreams become reality, there’s danger.’
The hunting horn sounded again, the hooves ever nearer. Dogs barked furiously and voices raised in excited shouts. ‘I’m dreaming?’
‘Think about it. We met in the park today. You’ve been having these nightmares for several nights now. I told you I’d see you in your dreams. Quickly, boy, there’s not much time.’
A wave of panic pulsed through Tom. He was dreaming? He must be, because he couldn’t remember how he got to this strange forest. He thought back, remembered the football match, Jenna’s blush, the shade under the trees. And this strange man. It all flooded back. ‘I’m dreaming,’ he said stupidly.
Isiah smiled. ‘Good lad! Now, the beauty of knowing you’re dreaming is it means you can manipulate your dream.’
‘Can I?’ Tom winced as he spoke, the braying and barking and pounding hooves getting close.
‘You can. Your dream, your rules. Come on, I’ll teach you to fly.’ He reached out one hand.
Tom stared for a moment. The hooves thundered closer and Tom grabbed Isiah’s hand. The strange, powerful man turned and leapt into the air. Tom felt a static wash flood through his nerves, a feeling he could only think of as magic, and they soared up above the trees into a sunny blue sky. The sound of the hunt faded away below them. Tom laughed as Isiah looped and soared.
‘You see?’ Isiah shouted over the wind. ‘In your dreams, you’re the master of everything. You’re like a god.’ He let go of Tom’s hand.
Tom screamed, dropped like a stone. ‘Catch me!’
Isiah swooped down, just out of reach. ‘It’s your dream, Tom. Fly!’
Tom drew a deep breath and imagined himself as Superman. He thrust one hand ahead of himself and yelled, ‘Fly!’ And he did.
After a long time Isiah swooped down to the ground. Tom reluctantly followed. ‘So we really need to talk,’ Isiah said.
Tom shrugged. ‘Okay.’
‘This is all very well, flying around in dreams. You’ve put some distance between yourself and the hunt, which gives us time to talk. The trouble is, the hunt won’t be in your dreams tomorrow.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You’ve been targeted by the Fey. For whatever reason, and no one can fathom their thinking, they’re hunting you.’
‘The what?’
‘Fey. Faeries.’
Tom grinned crookedly. ‘I’m being hunted by fairies?’
Isiah scowled. ‘Forget everything you think you know about the Folk, Tom. Just know this. They’re evil and they’re hunting you. Do not treat this situation lightly.’
Tom frowned, scared again. ‘Why me?’
‘Because. Who knows? Have you heard of the Wild Hunt?’
Tom laughed. ‘That’s a fairy story, isn’t it?’
Isiah nodded, his face deadly serious. ‘Don’t think fairy stories can’t kill you. There are actually several Wild Hunts. Not one, but many. Any hunt from Faerie is a Wild Hunt and this one is after you. They’ve been getting your scent in your dreams, practicing for the real thing. On the next thin day, they’ll come through here and hunt you for real.’
‘Thin day?’
Isiah nodded. ‘When Faerie and this realm get close enough for the Fey to cross over. Equinoxes, things like that.’
Tom stared at Isiah, remembering a recent class, his teacher talking about Paganism, solstices and equinoxes. ‘Isn’t the Vernal Equinox tomorrow?’
Isiah nodded. ‘That’s why it’s so important that you and I talked.’
‘Why are you helping me?’
Isiah sighed. ‘That’s actually very hard to explain. Let’s just say it’s my job to look out for people who have a greater destiny than most. If you don’t prepare, then tomorrow you’ll get taken by the Fey.’
Tom trembled. This man meant every word. ‘Taken where?’ he asked.
‘To Faerie. The Fey realm. You’ll serve them as a slave.’
‘Does that happen often?’
Isiah looked sad. ‘Looked at many milk cartons lately?’
Tom stared at the leaf strewn ground, confused. This all sounded too ridiculous to be possible. But he was
talking to a man in his dreams who he’d seen in the park earlier. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. And this man knew things he shouldn’t. ‘So what do I need to do?’
Isiah stood outside Tom Jamieson’s house, the weighty comfort of his physical body around him again. Tom slept on upstairs, presumably trying to remember lessons in his dreamscape. Isiah knew the young man didn’t really believe everything he’d been told, but that didn’t matter. When the time came, along with sudden belief would be the knowledge the kid needed. Hopefully.
Such was the nature of dreaming, and learning in dreams. It all became wispy and hard to grasp by day, the memory flitting away like mist in a breeze. Hopefully enough would stick.
The kid had trouble at this stage getting the idea of how the Hunt would become manifest. Something would set it off, some catalyst would start a chain of events that would lead Tom into the path of the Hunt. That much was inevitable. Isiah had long ago learned that it made for a far greater success rate if he taught people how to deal with their reality than try to help them avoid it.
Tom dragged himself from bed, his mind tumbling with confused memories of the night before. He remembered all too clearly the stranger and his weird advice. He remembered flying and looping in the sky. With a laugh he shook his head. It had been vivid dreaming, but at least it was an improvement on the relentless hunt dreams. And he felt rested for the first time in days.
He showered, ate his breakfast, headed off to school. He sat through his morning classes and the memories of the dream faded. At lunchtime he turned his phone on and it beeped almost immediately. A text message from an unrecognised number.
hi tom. it's jenna. do u want 2 meet up after school?
Tom’s heart raced. He most certainly did. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. He tapped out a response.
Sure thing. Where?
He stared at his phone stupidly for several minutes, then jumped when it beeped in response.
u know the old woods? at the end of cooper street? meet me there at 4?
A dumb smile spread across Tom’s face. He sent a reply saying he’d see her then and walked happily across the playground to find somewhere to eat his sandwiches. Why did she want to meet at the woods? Fractured dream memories of baying hounds and hammering hooves filled his mind. He shook his head, discarding the thoughts. He was being ridiculous.
Isiah tailed Tom leaving school. The kid looked pleased with himself, some personal victory brightening his day. But this day could turn very sour. Isiah followed at a safe distance, staying out of sight, watching Tom take an unusual route, nowhere near his house. The catalyst had started. Something had moved Tom away from his usual pattern.
Isiah frowned. He couldn’t risk any direct intervention. The last thing he needed was to run afoul of the Fey, interrupt their Hunt. Much as it was necessary for young Tom to survive, some prices were too high. Raising the ire of the Fey was one such price.
He had given Tom as much instruction as he could, as many tools to look after himself as the time allowed. Now he had to trust the young fellow to take care of himself. Guidance was one thing, some rules he could bend. Others were incontrovertible. The kid was on his own.
Tom spotted Jenna waiting at the dead end of the street and his heart skipped a beat. He had trouble believing it was happening. But he wouldn’t complain. He raised his hand in a wave and Jenna waved back.
‘Hi,’ he said when he got close enough. He felt stupid, unable to think of anything else to say.
‘Hi,’ Jenna said. ‘I hope you didn’t mind me texting you.’ She looked bashful.
Tom grinned. ‘No, not at all. I’m really glad you did actually, I was looking forward to the next soccer match, hoping you’d be there.’ He clamped his mouth shut, realising he was rambling.
Jenna turned toward the woods. ‘Want to take a walk?’
‘Sure.’
He followed her into the cool shade of the old wood. Something nagged at his hindbrain, some sense of trepidation. He shook it off. He kept dreaming about being hunted through a forest, so it made sense that a real forest would make him nervous.
The sense of dread intensified as they walked, Tom’s spine tingling with nervous ice. Just a dream? Really? Something else nagged at him. A tall, strong looking man with tousled black hair and eyes like endless night. The man had given a warning, a lesson. Why was it so hard to remember?
‘I have a favourite tree in here,’ Jenna said, her happy voice shattering his train of thought.
He shook himself, coming back to the present. ‘A favourite tree?’
‘Yeah, but it’s a fair way in. Wanna come?’
‘You come here a lot?’
She turned to run off through the trees. ‘This way!’
She ducked left and right until Tom couldn’t be sure which way they were going, before she stopped under the heavy, weeping arms of a giant, ancient oak.
‘I can see why this is your favourite,’ Tom said, staring up through dappled sunlight reaching between the branches and leaves.
‘Would you like to kiss me?’ Jenna asked.
Tom gaped. Then closed his mouth. He opened and closed it twice more before he could formulate a reply. ‘Yes, I would,’ he managed at last.
Jenna giggled. ‘I know you like me. You always show off at football.’
Tom felt embarrassed, mildly outraged. ‘I do not!’
Jenna leaned forward and kissed him, silencing his denial. Then, more gently, they kissed again. Tom couldn’t believe it, his dream come true.
Dream? Or nightmare?
Why was he thinking about his nightmares now when he should be thinking about nothing but the fact that he was kissing Jenna Hoyt. He was tired, dizzy. The light seemed to fade and he became aware that the dappled sunlight he’d been looking at moments before had faded to dull twilight.
He pulled away from Jenna, confused. She pouted. ‘You don’t like kissing me?’
‘I love kissing you. But when did it get dark?’
Jenna giggled. ‘Silly. We’ve been kissing for a while, that’s all. Are you afraid of the dark?’
Tom shook his head. ‘No, it’s not been that long. It was barely four o’clock.’
‘So you are afraid of the dark?’
‘No, I’m not. But we shouldn’t be out here in the woods at night.’
A loud hunting horn blasted through the air, splitting the stillness of the forest. A wave of panic wash through him. He grabbed Jenna’s hand. ‘Come on, we have to go.’
She pulled against him. ‘What do you mean? What’s the matter?’
‘Didn’t you hear that horn?’
‘What horn?’
The raucous sound blasted through the forest again. Barking dogs and the pounding of hooves. ‘That horn!’ he yelled. ‘Come on!’
He dragged Jenna along with him as he ran back the way they’d come. After a moment he stopped, looking all around. ‘Which way is it?’
Jenna pulled free, planted her hands on her hips. ‘What is wrong with you, Tom?’
The baying and pounding hooves sounded closer than ever, hundreds of voices whooping and cheering along with it. Tom trembled, unable to believe his dreams, his nightmares, were becoming real. ‘You can’t hear that?’
‘Hear what?’ Jenna’s face had a mean twist to it, like she enjoyed his panic.
Tom forced himself to stop and think. He remembered his dreams, the strange, tall man who gave him a warning and some tricks. What were those tricks? The sound of the hunt became deafening, they couldn’t be far away. Tom squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to remember.
He pictured the man from his dream. The man from the park the day before. That was it, the tall man with the leather jacket. He’d been in Tom’s dream last night and he’d said the Hunt would become real today. Isiah was his name. Why did Tom only remember this stuff now? He pushed the terrifying noise to the back of his mind and concentrated. What had Isiah said about the Hunt? Something will happen that will allo
w the Hunt to find you. Like beaters flush out pheasants for shooters, something will flush you out for the Hunt.
Tom snapped his eyes open, staring hard at Jenna. His stomach turned to water as she stood there looking back at him. She seemed amused. ‘What is wrong with you, Tom?’ she asked again.
Watch carefully, Isiah had said. Look out for things that don’t make sense, little details that don’t fit.
‘How did you get my mobile number?’ Tom asked.
Jenna frowned. ‘What?’
‘You texted me, asking to meet here. We’ve never shared numbers. Hell, we’ve never really talked much. Where did you get my number?’
Jenna blushed, flapped one hand dismissively. ‘Oh, I asked one of your friends for it. I was too embarrassed to ask you.’
Don’t be fooled by the stories and excuses. Look deeply for the truth. When the lies are revealed, the truth will be revealed.
Tom remembered Isiah’s lessons ever more clearly. He pointed an accusing finger at Jenna. ‘Not true. You never asked my friends for my number. Why did you bring me here?’
Jenna tipped her head back, laughing a deep, sonorous laugh. ‘Exposed me, eh?’ she said, but it wasn’t Jenna any more. A tall, gangly creature stood in her place, dark green skin and warts and clumps of bristling black hair. Its face was a grotesque mask, all swollen lips and too-big teeth.
Tom cried out. ‘What are you?’
The creature laughed. ‘I’m the Herald of the Hunt!’ It brought a curved bone horn to its lips and blew a rampant peal out into the night. The shouting voices and barking hounds doubled their volume.
The ground trembled beneath Tom’s feet. What should he do?
The Herald guides the Hunt. You need to lose the Herald and cross running water. The Hunt is restricted in this Realm. Don’t have any mercy for the Herald, or it will be the end of you.
‘Run?’ asked the creature that had been masquerading as Jenna. ‘You think you can outrun that?’ It gestured toward the raucous sounds of the approaching Hunt.
Don’t have any mercy for the Herald...
With a cry of fear and desperation, Tom swung his schoolbag, heavy with textbooks, off his shoulder and into the big green face of the creature. It grunted in pain as it stumbled to the ground. Tom put in one solid kick for good measure then turned and ran.
