by Tina Smith
“Maybe,” I admitted, noticing her fidget. I released the arrow and a black bird was struck through the chest. It came tumbling through the branches to the grass below the trees. I knew then that I would train her. I strode over to the dead bird, she followed me. “The legends are true, there is a war going on out there,” I admitted, shrugging at the trees as I placed my foot on the wing and ripped the arrow from its breast.
“Between whom, exactly?” she asked concerned.
She was fishing. I shrugged “The wolves and us.” I wiped the bloodied arrow with a cloth and took out my knife to cut a notch along the shaft, in a row of other identical marks. I returned it back to the satchel on my back and tucked my knife back into my bra.
“Why?”
I half smiled. “Tisane would say it’s the Gods, the three curses of Shade,” I said, slightly amused.
“I read about that.”
I put the bow down on my foot balancing the other limb in my hand and stood to face her. “Okay,” I sighed, “do you want to learn?” I wiped my brow with my forearm.
“To do what?” she uttered.
“Fight.” I wondered if she would like this new reality.
“I suppose,” she said in the same tone.
“You suppose? Ha.” I turned my face to the sky. “Yes or no?” My eyes blinked heavily towards the clouded heavens. I felt a few misty raindrops on my skin.
“What?” she enquired, unsure.
I winced “Yes or no, do you want to learn to fight?” I repeated more harshly, but my eyes were softer as I waited for her reply.
“Yeah, yes,” she responded to placate me, but her voice was full of curiosity. I was sure it was something she said as only a means to an end. I took heart from the fact that she had agreed no matter how transparently. It was fate.
“Then I will teach you. But remember, you wanted this and once we start, there is no going back.” Like Cres before me, I had to accept it. Unfortunately she would be pulled into the underworld by a force that none of us controlled. And worse yet, she was following me down this dark hole with naive faith, faith that would be tested.
“Pluck the bird.” I pointed my glance at it. She took a moment to stare at it, no doubt trying to make sense of my request. “Pull out the feathers, we’ll need fletching.” I challenged her.
I was about to give up when she kneeled in the grass and ripped a handful of the black feathers.
“Good, get a few more. We’ll need them.” She reefed a handful more and put them in a pile by her knees. “Good.” I was testing her.
I showed her how to make arrows. If she stuck with me I would show her other things. But for that afternoon we moulded arrow heads and crafted shafts from staves by the woodpile. I handed her a branch too thick for me to break, she pressed down on it and too easily she creaked and snapped the wood in half. I was fascinated. She was not as fragile as she looked. “Impressive.” Tisane was right, I huffed, massaging my neck. She had more strength than me.
You can’t get out of people what isn’t in them. Caroline was a fast learner, her reflexes where sharp. Maybe I felt a little better about training her when I saw the signs. She instantly found her anchor point and she wasn’t a bad shot. It was almost summer holidays, which was fortunate because time wasn’t on our side. We had a huntress.
We spent hours out in the forest. It seemed the wolves didn’t trespass here any longer though. Their cries came from the mountains. It seemed they favoured the distant thick bush land for hunting. I knew they weren’t actively searching for me, they were smart enough to wait. While I remained hidden I was out of their hair. I wondered again with unease what exactly had happened to Tormey to result in her death.
Without hesitation, Tisane mopped the mud we dragged through the living room and she gave me her mother’s clothes. Someone who didn’t fit in socially with society somehow fit in so well with me and made such lengths to accommodate me. So much so that I began to watch her with suspicion, while Caroline watched me with interest. She came to Tisane’s cabin and every day she would tell her where I was.
I taught her how to aim the gun. How to never point the muzzle at anything she didn’t want to shoot, just in case, and how to aim the sights and reload the ‘mag’ fast. “Normally we would aim for the torso, but the wolves can take the hit, so we aim directly at the head and the heart.” I touched the left side of my chest, where the invisible void existed. She nodded, wide-eyed as I passed her the handgun. “They regenerate.” I admitted. “The first rule of Fight Club is we don’t talk about Fight Club. Second rule is we chase them, they don’t chase us. Got it?” I said seriously.
I hoped for her sake that she wouldn’t come back. Until then, I played hardball. Her classroom was the forest and I was her teacher. We were Shade’s most undervalued resource.
She shrugged. “So what do I do?” She intently anticipated my answer.
I found myself echoing Cresida’s words.
“Shoot and shoot again,” I advised with a somber expression. “Aim for the head and the heart. Don’t drop your guard, and be ruthless.” I was teaching her to survive, and to do that we had to use every trick in the book. “They could be anyone anywhere.” I taught her the signs - the warmth, mismatched or torn clothing, the lack of marks on the skin, bare feet and the way their eyes shone fluorescent green under torchlight. We didn’t have a lot of time. “Forget the valley you thought you knew.”
“Always have a weapon on you, always have a torch and if they come for you, get up high. They’re less likely to find you in the trees.” Wolves didn’t like to climb, but they could try. “They have good hearing and a very good sense of smell.” Though this went without saying because the wolves were hunting machines. I hadn’t yet told her the thing that protected us most from them was the Goddess and not any physical power or strength that we possessed. But despite this, she bravely faced the truth. I hoped as Cres had done, that maybe my protégé would be the one to change things.
“Again,” I said as I held her in a headlock. I knocked her down, over and over again, using techniques that Cres had taught me, until she began to falter under the repeated blows. I had given her quite a thumping, until this time she didn’t bother rising. I outstretched my hand and helped her up. “Always get back up after a fall.” Emotionally she’d had enough for tonight. Maybe I felt a little bad for going so hard on her, but I needed her to be strong, inside and out. “Have the bruises been healing quickly?”
She rubbed her arms and nodded. There were two large, purple welts on each of her knees. Tisane would treat them.
The relentless schedule I devised for Caroline was the benefit of Cresida’s training. It seemed Artemis had definitely given me a gift. I wasn’t going to waste it. Tisane and I arranged for her to have a hunting knife. I showed Caroline how to use my bow out in the forest. “Position yourself in line with the arrow.” I saw her eyes resting on my arm. I pulled up the fallen strap of my singlet top. “It’s Artemis,” I offered when I caught her gaze. It was a trademark. She momentarily looked chagrined, as her freckles coloured.
“Will I get one?” She blushed.
“Tormey had one, but it’s up to you.” I turned my attention to matters more at hand. She had an awkward stance, her toes turned in on her right. “You’ll have to straighten those.” I turned my eyes back to the arrow.
“What?” she looked at her shoes.
“Your feet, you’ll be doing a lot of walking.” I repositioned my aim. “And get some better foot wear.” It was a snide reference to her thin roman sandal style thongs. It was hot and I wiped my brow and shook my head heavily. Pigeon toes, glasses and all, she was a huntress. Repositioning my arrow on the string, I released the quiver and the bolt of the arrow met with the centre of an apple. As it shattered to pieces, the arrow wedged in the bark of a birch tree. I gave her the bow. “Your turn,” I nodded in encouragement toward the second apple.
Her arrows found the targets easily. But I worried that she wouldn’
t handle the reality of it. After she took the shot she smiled at me like a child pleased to show a parent. My face was hard as I gave a stiff approving smile. I realized maybe she was the prophet.
Within a week I was showing her holds and blocking techniques and even kicks. I felt her strength for myself, thrusting against me like cold marble with every impact. She was gaining strength and she never tired. She excelled. The only thing I had over her was technique. Finally, I let her best me in a few rounds and then I began to see she was improving. Given time she could have been better than me, but that was something I feared we didn’t have. The meeting with Sky was less than a week away.
It was harder for me to teach her about the wolves, I had to think about wolf behaviour on the attack and describe it to her. But I wasn’t Cres. I realized she would have to see the wolves for herself, and most likely this would be in an attack. The sad fact was we wouldn’t have to wait long.
After training, we swam in the river to cleanse the dirt from our hair and the sweat from our skin.
Caroline had to sneak out late at night under the crescent moon, returning in the early hours of the morning through her window. We met near the patch of willows. I noticed that she wore trainers after my comment. At least she was listening.
“I’m impressed,” I jested with a smirk.
I positioned myself, ready to fight, and she circled me, holding eye contact. She lunged and I stepped back and again she came forward, and I moved aside. We danced awkwardly, pacing around each other in the grass, ready to fight. Finally I came at her, attempting to toss her to the ground but she held. I tugged and she gripped me tighter, the surprise showed in her eyes. I tried to trip her, but she jumped my leg and twisted herself. I slid to the earth and she held me down in the grass with an iron grip.
I could tell she was waiting for the tap that signalled the break; instead I grabbed her leg. I was getting stronger too. She elbowed me hard to the head, we rolled and I scrambled up and attempted to run, but I only made it a few steps when she grabbed my leg and suddenly my face collided with a branch and I hit the earth and clay mud. She rested her knee on my back. I wriggled my hand out and tapped her twice on the knee of her other leg with my fingers. She waited a moment before letting go, easing off, then stepping away. When I rolled over ready to get up, she gasped slightly.
“What?” I asked. I reached my fingers to touch my face and I felt the wetness of blood above my cheek. The twiggy branch had scratched the side of my eye. “Ha, very good.” I squinted at her as the blood oozed near my eye. “Does it need stitches?”
“What? No, I don’t think so?” She wore a frightened expression.
“Good, it would be a shame to miss more training,” I muttered sitting up.
“Lila, I’m sorry,” she whimpered, her wide eyes distressed.
“Don’t be.” I wiped the blood on my singlet hem. “I consider it a mark of your progress.” I winced a smile. “To draw blood from your, teacher,” I grimaced as my tight smile grew much wider. She couldn’t be fragile; neither of us would come out of this war unscathed. Slowly, I was beating the polite girl out of her. I was impressed with her developing fighting skills, but I would be more impressed when she no longer meekly apologized for the damage she inflicted.
“Ha,” I scoffed. I noticed her concern. “Don’t worry head wounds bleed a lot.” I dabbed at it with my sleeve. It would just be another scar for my collection.
She looked on sorry. I knew she would be changed forever once the crescents appeared. You could not dispute the Goddess any more than you could the weather. I no longer had to let her beat me. In fact, the fight was progressively even by the end of the night and I was satisfied that Caroline would become like me in every sense, but one. I would keep her away from the wolves as long as possible, if only to better our chances.
The wolves, though, didn’t seem to be looking for me, rather just waiting. Something had changed; they were being as patient as the Gods. We were playing the same game and whoever won would rule.
13. Spilled Blood
The next night she didn’t show for sparring. I entertained myself shooting arrows in the long grass. Caroline’s parents were becoming an issue. Like mine, they were the abandoning rather than the smothering kind, though it seemed her mother liked to keep tabs on her. It started to make more sense to me now why she liked to get out. Her older brother seemed to keep the heat off her for the time being as he went through a rebellious phase. The scenario sounded familiar. Not every parent is like Sophie though.
After a few hours, puzzled by her absence and frustrated I decided something must have happened. The thought that the wolves may have got her spurred me to get up determinedly, and walk to her home in Tarah. Caroline was usually punctual, annoyingly so.
The breeze gently swayed the leaves. Cautiously I snuck along the outside wall and peered in her window but it was dark. Her bedroom light was off. I could hear raised voices. Evidently Valerie and Hudson Doil had their issues. Maybe Caroline would make an appearance, maybe they were arguing over her.
I was seriously contemplating leaving when I heard a rustle. My ears pricked. Alarmed, my muscles tensed.
Birds flew from the roof and my hand clamped around my gun as a male figure came stumbling through the shrubs behind me. Under the moonlight I was clearly visible and with nowhere to run, I pulled and pointed the gun and torch simultaneously. The light swirled over his face, directly into his eyes, which made him squint. I tried to shove the gun out of sight as I realized it was a lumbering teenage boy, and judging by his gangly posture as he emerged from the hedge, he was likely not the cursed kind. Like an untamed animal, I startled at the sight of an unknown human.
With a breath of relief I tried to regain a casual composure, adjusting my stance. He was dressed in three quarter length pants, skater sneakers and a baggy surfer T-shirt. Aaron looked right at me, coming to a halt as his eyes rested where he had seen the gun, which I now tucked in the back of my pants and covered with my shirt. I attempted to look casual; I even shyly tucked a tuft of hair behind my ear and tried to look normal.
When I looked up, we locked eyes in a tenuous stare off, each equally stunned. My heart began to gallop in my chest. It was the first time I had been seen since running. I looked at his hand as he shoved something in his pocket and my eyes narrowed. It was way past curfew. He could have been working for the wolves. I tensed, ready to fight.
“You’re out late,” I stated calmly towards his colourless face. I retained my composure. He seemed equally shocked to see me, which put me more at ease. I hoped it wasn’t recognition of me that spooked him.
He didn’t answer. I was about to speak again when he interrupted defensively. “So are you.” There didn’t seem to be any hint of recognition in his face as he tucked his hand back in his baggy pants pocket. I wanted to know what he carried. My eyes fixed on it, whilst thinking her family could have been on the enemy’s side, but it was too late to hide now, he had seen me.
His eyes were glowing green. I strode closer and saw in the dim light that they were red rimmed, the colour of watermelon. His posture straightened as I reached him. I stopped, my body inches from his. My hand gripped his boyish face. He looked too thin and weedy to be wolf. He didn’t smell like a beast.
I glanced down. He was wearing shoes and I couldn’t smell wolf musk but there was an odd smell not unlike Tisane’s herbs to his clothing. And then it hit me – weed, it was weed, mixed with men’s deodorant and washing powder.
Just to be sure, I forcibly shoved my hand into his pocket and his gaping expression of shock said everything. I grasped the object and attempted to pull it out of his pants as his hand clasped my arm in a rigid but weak attempt to stop me. With my other hand, I automatically pulled the gun from the back of my jeans and rested it against his temple. I knew the second I had done it that this was a silly move. If he wasn’t sure that he had seen a gun just before, he would be certain now. Despite my wavering thoughts I held it firml
y.
His grip loosened obediently from my wrist and I slid the object from his pocket. Satisfied with his reaction, my eyes gave a lively flicker. It was a brass coloured pipe, still warm from being lit. I dropped the gun to my side and smiled. Only to then feel the force of him tackling me to the ground, hard. After the shock, I kicked him off and easily bested him, coming to sit, straddling his chest. He was a guy but he was young and soft. I knew that I matched his strength easily due to the huntress and I overpowered him with very little strain. He would have been no match for Caroline.
“Don’t move,” I advised with a hard edge to my voice as he attempted to struggle. There was a desperate, panicked look in his green eyes.
I contemplated what to say when suddenly a nearby voice whispered in an impatient tone. “When you two are done humping...”
We both turned our heads to see Caroline in the dark corner of the house, near the water heater.
“Elle,” she urged, blonde brows raised above her clear amber eyes.
“Stay out of our business, boy,” I whispered harshly with a hard look towards his craning head. I stood up still straddling him as he lay motionless, frozen, either too frightened or too shocked to move.
I tucked the gun back in my pants. I wondered if I should help him up, but decided against it. The pipe lay nearby tossed in the mown grass.
I glanced at Caroline. “Come on then, let’s go,” I muttered, inwardly mortified.
Caroline jogged across the lawn past me, she was dressed in black. I gave her brother a hard expression of warning as I stepped from over him and moved after her. I joined her pace, escaping the scene into the shrub land.
“I thought he was a wolf,” I heard myself say when we were out of sight. I wondered with a shake of my head exactly where my head was at.
