Myths & Magic: A Science Fiction and Fantasy Collection

by Kerry Adrienne

  When the creature didn’t start moving their way, probably unwilling to give up its prey, Sophia searched her mind, trying to imagine what it could possibly be. But nothing its size was known to live in this area—that she knew of anyway. There had been a library at the Priory, but she’d always been drawn to books about birds. All she could think of was that it might be a wolf or wild dog. When the idea occurred to her that creatures such as those tended to travel in packs, she glanced around at the trees but saw no movement.

  Now that the beast was stationary atop the flailing peasant and now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could get a much better look at it. It was black and hunched over with its back to them so she couldn’t clearly recognize its shape. It appeared to be covered in long hair, but without being able to see its head or legs, she remained mystified as to what it could be.

  The beast turned its head towards the peasant’s face, and then he went completely silent. In fact, he stopped struggling altogether and laid his arms outstretched, completely prone. What had happened to quiet him so quickly? It didn’t appear as though he was dead yet.

  Finally realizing she was holding her breath, Sophia gasped, and the sound seemed loud in the sudden silence. The beast turned toward them at the noise, and she covered her mouth to silence her next gasp. Its eyes were a shimmering gray color, almost silver. Her heart pounded in her ears as she feared it might come bounding their way. Something about the way it moved next made her think it wasn’t an animal, though, and Sophia slowly clutched the crucifix around her neck.

  Chapter 5

  The Thing From Hell

  The shadowed creature lunged into the trees along the east side of the road. Beon drew his sword. Mentally, he struggled to stop the shaking in his body, but he had never seen anything like this before. When the creature had looked at them with a pair of reflective eyes, he’d decided it must be an enormous dog. But when it had moved, he’d begun to think otherwise.

  The…thing…seemed human. Like a man. A sort of man, anyway. Beon wasn’t sure if it had been a trick of the light or not, but its face had appeared pale in the dimming light. And when it hissed at them before dashing off he would swear he’d seen unusual teeth—like the fangs of a predatory animal. A human with fangs just did not fit.

  A terrifying and unnatural silence settled in around them, not even crickets filled the night with their chirping, and Beon tightened the grip he had on his sword.

  The peasant still lay prone on the ground about forty meters ahead of where they had stopped. He wasn’t moving. Had the creature killed him? Beon wanted to check on the man to see if he could help, but something told him it wasn’t safe yet. And while he felt sorry for the peasant, his top priority was Sophia. He also wished he wasn’t alone in his duties at the moment—even Sir Bartley would be welcome at this moment and he wondered with annoyance what had happened to the man.

  Beon heard a rustling directly to his right, and before he could even turn his body, the dark figure came out of the shadows so fast he didn’t have time to react. He was knocked from his horse so hard he worried some bones might have broken. Landing with a painful crash, his sword slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground. In a daze, Beon got to standing as fast as he could and grabbed his sword; glad at least that Sophia’s pony had danced forward far enough she wasn’t thrown to the ground.

  When Sophia turned her pony around, probably to ask if he was all right, Beon held up his hand to keep her quiet.

  “But—” she began, and he shot a stern look her way, hoping she would take his warning seriously.

  Hating how his limbs wobbled, Beon listened intently as he blinked into the darkness that was now falling fast in the forest.

  Again, there was that eerie silence.

  Forced to step forward when he was suddenly shoved from behind, Beon whirled around. Already knowing the assailant could strike harder than that, Beon realized this thing was toying with him, mocking him by not using all of its strength with each blow.

  Beon lifted his blade, but the attacker blew past him, wrenching his sword free of his hands again. This time the creature did not disappear into the wood but stood, perfectly still, several meters away.

  There were no doubts in Beon’s mind now, this thing was indeed a man, and although he had been moving so unbelievably fast, he wasn’t even breathing hard. He may not have been breathing at all. Beon’s head was pounding from the fall—and from utter disbelief. He had no idea what he was seeing. It was a devil…a demon…a spirit from the grave. He knew not. And he could not decide if he was awake or dreaming.

  The creature-like person locked eyes with Beon as he slowly moved closer. And as the devil held his gaze, Beon found he no longer wished to escape it. To his horror, he felt a desire to be near the demon…he also felt his legs go limp…they truly could not hold his weight any longer…his thoughts became muddled…not making sense at all. The demon was so close now Beon could see the piercing quality of his eyes as if they floated out from under the inky black hood.

  The next thing Beon knew, Sophia had stepped in front of him. She held something in her hand that she stretched out toward the monster. As soon as she did, the demon shrunk away a little. Beon felt a release as if his body had just been dropped by a giant hand loosening its grip. He could breathe again, and his head began to clear.

  Able to focus on Sophia now, he could see that she held a crucifix. It was the crucifix she’d been wearing around her neck. She held it in her fist and jutted it toward the demon’s face as if it were a weapon. The devil continued to shrink away until it turned and ran back toward the peasant, who now seemed to be stirring. Moving like a rapid river current, the creature scooped up the man as if he were a rag doll and disappeared into the forest.

  When Beon’s senses returned after a long moment of silence, he could hear Sophia’s heavy breathing. Turning to look at her, he noticed that she was still frozen in the same position as when she’d defended him against the attacker—her arm outstretched and holding the cross.

  Beon went to her gently and touched her shoulder. She startled as she looked at him with wide eyes.

  “It’s all right now…I think it’s gone,” he said. “Still, we should make haste to the castle—if we can find the horses.” They had bolted during the attack. “How did you know?” he asked. When she looked at him blankly, he asked again, “How did you know to use the crucifix that way?”

  Sophia was still clutching the cross in her fist like a sword and he realized she might be in shock even if she had singlehandedly saved them both.

  After staring at him for a moment, she began, “There have been whisperings around the monastery…of monsters…alive and dead at the same time. Some have discovered ways of deterring them. I thought they were just stories…” Sophia stared off into the darkness and started to weep. “I never should have left the nunnery.”

  “Nonsense. You saved my life…with only…”

  Beon dropped to one knee before her. “I pledge my allegiance to you. I am your servant, my lady.”

  She blinked down at him. “I...what? Don’t be silly...Beon—”

  He reached up and silenced her with one finger. Rising to face her, he asked, “Do you have any idea how long I have been training to become a knight?”

  Before she could answer, he went on, “Long enough to have been able to protect us, I assure you, and yet you saved us both from a creature belched forth from the very depths of Hell with a pretty bobble.”

  It was well over an hour before Beon was able to retrieve the horses and get on their way. At this point, Beon was dreading their return to Bamborough. He felt certain that Lord Gall would be pacing the floor—or worse yet, send out a search party at any moment. Either way, Beon would be drawn and quartered. Somehow he was sure it wouldn’t matter to Lord Gall that Sir Bartley had abandoned them. He could bid farewell to his hopes for a promotion—it would never come after this episode. What exactly had he seen, anyway? He was still in
a daze from the extraordinary events he’d just witnessed.

  He helped Sophia onto the pony, keenly aware of the fact that she had begun shaking. Laying his hand on hers, he said, “You’re all right. It’ll be all right. We’re quite close.”

  “I—I don’t think I can.”

  Beon considered Sophia and decided she looked rather frazzled. Afraid that she could still be in shock, he helped her back down off the horse and instead put her atop his own steed. He grabbed the reins of the pony and tied them to the saddle of his horse and mounted as well, planning to let it run alongside them. He sat with Sophia in front of him so he could hold onto her lest she faint. Wrapping his left arm around her waist, Beon gathered up the reins of his horse with his right hand. Sophia crossed her arms over top his as if she welcomed the warmth and protection. Something Beon could not identify brimmed to life inside his chest at her touch—a burning sensation that caught his breath and awakened his loins in a way that startled him.

  As they took off in the night, Beon was suddenly very aware he had never been this close to a female other than his mother. Her hair blew in his face and smelled of the ocean and lavender. He found himself holding her tighter to his chest, and Sophia in turn, clamped her arms more tightly around his.

  Beon was almost sorry when the torches of Bamborough came into view. He was feeling so many different emotions at once, it seemed the only thing that made sense in all the jumble was this stolen magical moment with Sophia. It even caused his fear of Lord Gall to melt away. Come what may, he thought.

  Before they got within a stone’s throw, Beon brought the horse to a halt.

  “Why are we stopping?” Sophia asked.

  “I think…perhaps I should get off and walk you the rest of the way, my lady. For appearances.”

  She held tightly to his arm and laid her head back on his shoulder. “I feel so safe and warm though.”

  Beon’s heart raced, and his mouth went dry. He suddenly felt awkward and stiff, and he had no idea what to do. He wanted to stay just as they were a little longer but the reality of the castle loomed large, as though it had eyes. The fantasy was over. Seeing no way around that encroaching reality Beon slid off the horse, and Sophia turned her face away from him bashfully. He found he couldn’t look at her either.

  Beon led the horses toward the gate and braced himself for the worst. Not only was he extremely tardy in completing the task given him, but he’d put the baron’s daughter in mortal danger and quite possibly compromised her virtue. Beon wasn’t certain about this last one, he just knew something had happened in his body that had never happened before. Best to put it out of his mind, he decided. He had no idea what Sophia was thinking and didn’t dare ask. Perhaps she hadn’t noticed anything.

  The castle seemed quiet once as they walked toward the gates. The two sentries poked their heads out from atop the battlements and recognized him immediately. Their heads disappeared without a word, and the gate began to open. Beon and Sophia entered to find the courtyard vacant aside from a servant or two making their rounds. Beon felt a measure of relief but wasn’t quite ready to count his chickens.

  “You seem surprised that my father is not here to greet me. I am not surprised in the least.”

  Beon did not know how to respond to that, so he changed the subject. “Would you like to continue on to the stables with me?”

  “I would,” she said.

  They walked in silence for several moments, both holding their breath. Finally, Beon could take no more and blurted, “What will you tell your father, my lady?”

  She turned her head but still didn’t meet his gaze. “About…tell him about what? Oh…you mean—about the creature?”

  “Yes, my lady—”

  “Please, Beon, call me Sophia.”

  “Sophia,” he whispered, “I need to know—I want to do the honorable thing. As I said, I am your servant, indebted to you forever, but this is a very complicated and confusing revelation. It may be best we don’t speak a word of this to anyone.”

  “Even Sir Lyndon?” Sophia asked.

  There would be no way around Sir Lyndon, even if they’d escaped the wrath of Lord Gall by the grace of God, Beon would have to tell his mentor the truth.

  “Perhaps after I return you to Holy Island...Sir Lyndon is the only one I would trust. We need to find out more about…whatever it is we saw. I’d like to get another glimpse, come better prepared, and possibly even capture the thing. If I could do that, then we wouldn’t run the risk of everyone thinking we’re mad.”

  Sophia looked at Beon for the first time since arriving, gaping and frowning rather fiercely at him. “You want to return me to the convent?” she stammered.

  “Well…well, yes, to make sure you arrive safely, yes.” When Sophia stared at him with doleful eyes—her frown deepening—Beon continued, “I don’t mean now…”

  Sophia expelled a shuddering breath and then smiled faintly. “Of course, forgive me, I was afraid you meant right away.”

  For some reason the comment made him laugh uncomfortably, and he was relieved when she joined him.

  Clutching at his middle as the laugh subsided, he said, “No, no…we can’t have you missing the May Day Feast after all.”

  “No…”

  Another bout of silence surrounded them as their eyes held intently upon each other.

  “Well, I suppose I shall bid you goodnight then,” she murmured quietly, as though she didn’t mean what she was saying.

  “Oh, shall I walk you to the great hall?” he offered, secretly not wanting to leave her side just yet.

  “Thank you, but no…I…thank you,” she answered, her words unsteady.

  “As you wish, my lady,” he said, unable to think of a valid reason to remain in her company.

  After a moment of awkward silence, Beon asked her something that had been gnawing at him the entire trip. “If you please, I would very much like to improve upon the carving I gave you all those years ago. I would return it to you in much better condition and give you—”

  “Oh no, no, I wouldn’t dare part with it,” she interrupted. “I like it just the way it is.”

  “In that case, I shall just have to come up with a new creation for you. A better one, I assure you.”

  “Right, well…”

  At that Beon knelt down and bowed his head.

  “Goodnight, my lady,” he said.

  When she shot a pout his way, he corrected with, “Sophia. Goodnight, Sophia.”

  “Goodnight, Beon,” she replied, smiling faintly.

  By the time Beon raised his head, there was nothing left of her in the darkness but a lingering scent of lavender and the sea. The waves crashed below the castle, the only sound to be heard aside from the chirp of crickets…and for reasons he couldn’t explain, he felt empty inside without her. Beon felt ill prepared to do anything about it, though. He wasn’t yet a knight, and that goal needed to be reached before he thought of...well, frivolous things like very pretty girls. Especially with the knowledge that hellish creatures were hunting people in the darkness. Knighthood was needed to fight whatever evil he had stumbled upon that night.

  So instead of exploring parts of himself he did not understand, and instead of trying to understand feelings more foreign to him than physical pain, Beon redirected his thoughts to more pressing matters. Like how to win over a man who was clearly bent on ensuring he failed in his quest to become a knight.

  Chapter 6

  Heartbroken With Time

  Sophia was awash with emotions as she prepared herself for the May Day festivities that would last the next few days. Visitors would be arriving at various times throughout the feast as guests of her father and Bamborough Castle. However, she was still so confused by the events of the night prior that she didn’t much feel like being a hostess. So much had happened that she was still struggling to process. That creature on the road. That ride with Beon. It was all so frightening and thrilling. Beon had been most gallant…and arrogant an
d brutish...yet so very sensitive and caring. To say she was ‘confused’ was too simple a word for what she was really feeling. She couldn’t seem to narrow it all down to just one emotion let alone three or four.

  Father had given her his customary cold greeting at repast of ‘I see you made it home,’ while it had been wonderful to see her two brothers again. Marcus was already training as a page, and Marcel was a young man now. Of course, she was happy to see that both of them appeared to be quite strong and healthy, so she did not fear an unexpected death to steal either of them away from her.

  Marcus had immediately wanted to play hideaway with her, which she’d obliged, but found it only reminded her of Beon. Reaching into the little purse attached to her belt, her fingers curled around the bird he’d given her, her thumb sliding over the carved details. A part of her knew she might wear it down with the habit, but she couldn’t seem to stop. Sophia took it out and looked down at it, wondering why he wasn’t happy with it. She still thought it was very well crafted, so artistically done that it was hard to imagine any squire or knight coming up with something so lovely.

  Breathing in the familiar air and heady memories of her Mother’s solar, Sophia jumped up from the bed when Nurse entered. Her familiar smile, an expression that reached right into the woman’s eyes and brightened her entire face, was such a welcome sight Sophia rushed into her arms and immediately started crying for no reason whatsoever.

  “There, there, child… What is the matter?” Nurse asked, cradling her head to her shoulder gently.

  “I don’t know…I suppose…” She sighed before finally saying, “I still miss Mama, so terribly,” she answered, but deep down Sophia knew that was only part of it.