by Stella Inox
Ryannon glared at him, as she felt the force of his power challenge her own. The swarming lights above her dimmed under the pressure of his spell, and her face contorted as she struggled and fought his magic. This being was ancient and clearly determined to reach her.
The glowing spheres pulsed, dimmed, and flared in protest at the clash of magic before slowly waning as they were overcome. The rotting form of Jack in the Green straightened, arms dropping from their protective pose and he edged closer, ivy creepers beginning to crawl across the clear ground towards her.
She snarled, and grasped the sword tighter in her sweaty hands.
As the lights faded to bare pinpricks and Ryannon started to despair, the circlet atop her head burst into full life, casting dancing colorful hues and shadows on the backdrop of foliage. The horrific being bellowed in rage and drew back from the tinted light spectacle.
“Ryannon, daughter of Erikias and Hermain” he rumbled. “You escaped me once but that will not be repeated. I claim your blood and your death as my due.”
“Stand tall” whispered the tiara, strengthening her and reminding her that she was not alone. “Fleeing will not help us now. We must face him and prevail.”
The Sidhe half breed straightened from her guarded crouch.
“Jack in the Green” she spat, his name falling twisted and despised from her tongue. “I give you fair warning. I am not such easy or foolish prey this time!”
He sneered, his wooden lips a parody, and the expression a perversion on his hideous face.
“Be ready” murmured the circlet.
The vines whipped across the clearing, seeking to entangle her as they had before. She swung the sword down with a shout, severing the closest fronds which lashed about spraying inky droplets of sap. The warped tree man rumbled in pain, an unearthly groan that sounded of tortured splintering wood and falling trees. Leaves flared in a mini hurricane around them at the noise.
She swiped at thick droplets of sap with her sleeve, smearing them across her face as she slashed again and again as his vines kept coming, fighting to keep the space around her clear.
“See!” said the tiara, that one word circling and unraveling in her mind like a strange, irresistible enchantment.
Ryannon’s mind was seized and she stilled, oblivious to the vines that eagerly wound around her motionless form. Jack in the Green laughed as his liana like fingers wrapped her securely, rendering her immobile, but she didn’t struggle in his cruel grip and he frowned at her unseeing face, even shaking her to make her scream for him.
Deep inside herself, Ryannon was caught fast in reminiscence. Spell bound she watched as images unreeled and paraded before her. The pictures and scene flashed quickly and her half human mind struggled as she tried to wring sense and coherency from the mirage.
“See” whispered the tiara.
Ryannon gazed wide eyed as a memory unfurled. It wasn’t her memory and she frowned as she tried to puzzle through its meaning.
“See” whispered the tiara urgently.
Flowers bloomed and died, flashing into life, before wilting and falling. Meadows changed, different growths bursting to existence, before falling to the effects of the passing days.
Leaves fell to the ground, thinning and fading, the tracery of veins becoming transparent with decay before their form was consumed by the hungry earth. Wild animals rose and fell, mortal remains consumed by other creatures and returning to dirt, skulls grinning in mockery.
Before her bewildered sight, seeds grew into sapling trees, and then to towering behemoths before tumbling to the ground and returning to soil. The nutrients from the decaying life buoyed and supported the earth that was its final resting place.
Time.
The tiara was showing her the effects of time.
Why would this help?
As if in answer, she plummeted further into the recollection. Her mind’s eye arrowed in on a branch and she watched, fascinated as the cellulose walls in its interior succumbed to the ravages of passing hours. Cell after cell failed and the internal structure collapsed, as the branch was returned to the earth that it had sprung from.
How…?
Her vision zoomed closer. Thin cables of power wove between the decaying cells, hastening the natural process. Comprehension flared as understanding clicked in. Knowledge was power and the tiara had just handed her a doozy.
“Awaken now” whispered the tiara anxiously.
Ryannon eyes opened as her head lolled on her neck. Jack in Green held her close and was shaking her while shouting in rage. Vines were coiled tightly about her arms and legs, securing her against any attempt at flight. Lashing tendrils were already weaving their way underneath her armor, in an horrific rendition of the last time she had crossed his path.
“You won’t escape like this” he was bellowing at her limp body.
Her blue eyes flared.
She was neither powerless nor helpless. She clenched her hand on one of the waving tendrils and thrust her mind’s eyes deep, focusing on the life filled greenery. Spokes of controlled force pierced cell after cell, duplicating the effect she’d been shown. Just as in the memory, the structures failed, life bleeding from them to enrich the soil beneath her.
As she drew back, focusing on the ivy, Ryannon could see the damage she’d wrought. There was a spreading black stain shooting through the dirty green vines. It broke apart in her hand with a small squeeze, pulping to run between her fingers. She seized more handfuls, drawing the life from them and infusing the earth beneath her.
The Green man shrieked as she decimated his limbs. He shook her in fury, and flung her away so hard that her head rang as she made full brutal contact with a tree. Her armor took the brunt, crumpling to compress against her back. But even as it buckled, it did its job, stopping her spine from snapping.
Jack’s vines were writhing and whipping around the clearing. Ryannon snatched the dagger from her boot top and brandished it. Every time a tendril came in contact with her, she either slashed it nastily or aged it until it rotted away.
The Green man was wailing, foliage flailing in frustration as he tried to reach past her spirited defense. He was rebuffed continuously, and driven away by the grim faced and no longer helpless half-breed girl. He began to retreat, as further limbs dropped or rotted away after a concerted attack by the furious sprite. His visage was contorted with hatred, his wooden rotted stumps of teeth bared at the brave woman as she held her ground.
His vines slithered away now, avoiding her touch and he gnashed his teeth as he was forced to withdraw, step by reluctant step.
“I will find you!” he bellowed. “I have claimed your death and will not rest till it’s mine!”
“More fool you to make such a vow” Ryannon snapped impatiently.
She lunged at him and he recoiled hastily away, retreating past the tree line and slithering into the undergrowth.
Ryannon was allowed but a few moments to rejoice at driving such a creature back, before the eyes in the undergrowth captured her attention. They manifested different colors, glowing as they reflected back the luminosity of the brightly shining circlet.
Ryannon, panicked and whirled, seeking escape but found eyes surrounding her on all sides. The largest, a moss green pair so bright that they seemed to float above the earth like a beacon, drew closer and she staggered back, gracelessly colliding with a sapling as a massive fen wolf padded silently into the clearing.
It was tall enough that she could look it in the face as it moved towards her. It had dark grey brindled fur with silver tips that created chasing shadows on its immensely powerful body.
Its tongue lolled in canine amusement and it leaped up awkwardly. As it balanced on its hind legs, its mass collapsed inwards roiling and churning until a breathless Cernunnos stood before her, bent over and panting in the dim light.
He cast a serious look around the clearing before turning those incredible eyes back on her again. She couldn’t see the multiple colors in
his hair in the dim light, but his exquisite features were trained on hers as he examined her from top to bottom. He was wearing an outfit similar to the one that she had first seen him in. A white linen shirt that was open in the throat, and a dark colored set of leather breeches that were tucked into polished knee high boots.
He looked like a pampered Fae prince-ling. All except for the razor sharp antlers that graced his brow and the predatory movements he made as he prowled towards her. She could see flashes of other wolves in the undergrowth and she backed up a few steps, eyes narrowing and blade rising in warning. He stilled, focusing on the knife in her hand and then on her frightened eyes.
Rather than come closer, he seemed to arrive at some decision and instead backed away. The wolves that milled beyond the edge of the light stilled, looking at Cernunnos before they too spread out and away, leaving her a clear unbarred path through the bracken.
She turned astonished eyes towards him.
“Why?” she asked confused. “You’ve caught me, why would you let me go?”
He smiled, a mere flash of white teeth in the fading light from the circlet.
“No one may interfere with the Hunt” he said seriously. “Jack in the Green trapped you, not I, and to take advantage of that would be… unsporting” he finished with a happy tone. “I am many things, but I’m not dishonorable” he teased.
She edged towards the pathway he’d left her.
“You’ll really let me go?”
“What fun is there to be had in such an endeavor? If I let you go, I am free to catch you again, little rabbit. Run along now, I have something to take care of here first.”
He made an insulting shooing motion with his hands, offensively condescending enough that Ryannon put her hands on her hips and frowned at him. He threw back his head, throat shining in the still fading light as he laughed. His tone was so full of joy that goose bumps flared on her skin and her body awoke remembering his touch.
His laughter tapered off and his head lowered, antlers flashing, so that he could look at her through thick dark lashes.
“You could stay and abide awhile with me lovely one. Sunrise is many hours from now…”
Ryannon snapped out of her daze and broke for the path. Even as she fled, she could feel his warm gaze on her back.
Chapter Six
Cernunnos watched the lithe half-sprite dodge into the brush, his gaze contemplative. She was afraid of him and it would take time and effort to seduce her to his will. Time was something that he didn’t have, but he had an eye for strategy and a measure of patience, two things which Herne had always lacked.
Stage two must be assured before the sun rose or his game might be in jeopardy, but first he must take care of something he had put off for a while.
The wolves rushed towards him when he waved, to mill around him in delight, rubbing furred bodies and coats against his strong leather encased legs. He stroked the odd pelt and gave an ear rub to some of his favored hunters and using his power, he connected, gaining control of the pack. He crouched down holding Illaynos by the scruff and looking him deeply in the eyes. The deep whiskey colored gaze was intent as it focused on him, seeking to comprehend what his Lord wanted.
“Find him” he whispered, “bring him to me.”
As understanding came, the faithful hunter chuffed and then spun on silent legs before spearing into the undergrowth. The rest of the pack flowed like a grey furred tide after him. Not one of them betrayed the hunt with a growl or howl.
The Lord of the Forest strode back to the clearing. A flash of metal caught his eye and he picked up the dropped sword, discarded by Ryannon in her battle with the Green Man. He seemed to be collecting her things he mused remembering that he still had her boots, which he’d retrieved along with his loaned shirt from her last visit.
He focused on the blade and it vanished, to re-appear in his mind’s eye, alongside the horn on a table back at his dwelling. Once that was done, he drew his own sword and idly examined the ancient blade for nicks while the pack rounded up his quarry. They were snarling now which meant that the target had been cornered and was being deliberately funneled back towards him.
He waited patiently until Jack in the Green was forced into the open, by savage snaps of razor sharp teeth and maddening lunges of the wolves that were rabid with the need to shed the blood of rightful prey.
“Jack” he drawled idly as the bleeding Green man stumbled to a shambling halt.
Jack in the Green was looking a bit worse for wear. He was leaking a black tacky sap from numerous wounds, of which only a few of had been caused by his wolves. It seemed that Ryannon had been holding her own this time before he reached her.
The hulking wooden form of the Green Man snarled and bellowed in protest.
Cernunnos strolled forward, dropping all of the glamourie that made him seem genial and forgiving. He went from a smooth and idle, gracious character to something that was raw, feral and savage. His moss green eyes burned like fiery emeralds as he let his rage float free.
Jack warily drew back from this show of anger, eyes turning cautious and movements sluggish. The Horned God waved an eloquent hand and the growling wolves backed away from the hapless Jack, who was reeling in the trailing vines and shuffling from shambling foot to foot uneasily.
“You interfered with my Hunt Jack in the Green.”
The crafty creature got a sly look in his eyes and held out a twigged vine-like hand in entreaty.
“No lasting harm done Cernunnos. It escaped me.” His base tone wavered a bit. “Never claimed aloud by you or yours…-”
“Claimed by ME” hissed the Forest Lord. “Marked by me and protected by me. Don’t try to play me for a fool. You’re corrupted Jack, a hollow travesty of what you should be. You chose to act, thus the consequences are yours.”
“Mine” howled the enraged creature ignoring the judgment in the softly spoken phrases. “I claimed her blood for my own.” Lost in his rage at being denied his desire he lashed out with barbed and thorned vines.
Cernunnos caught them with his bicep and twisted, tangling the thorny vines deliberately. He let the power of the forest rope though him and stood unmoved, even as the raging creature tore and dragged at him. The wolves howled in fury at the attack on their King and advanced, fangs bared to take down the interloper.
A single harshly spoken word by Cernunnos halted their lethal advancement, and they returned to milling at the edges, furious eyes fixed on the raging Green man.
Cernunnos slashed down once with his sword and the vines wrapped around his arm withered at the contact, shriveling and turning to a fine dust that sifted to forest floor. The green man stalled, stiffening as the decay crept up the lashing canes.
“No” he said, his gravelly voice a bass rumble. “You would not destroy such as me for interfering with your hunt.” He seemed and sounded so certain but his bulbous eyes were locked fearfully on the creeping death that was coursing through his limbs.
“In truth, it’s not just for meddling. It’s for what you did the last time we crossed paths. For what you’ve become capable of. Blood magics and such cruelty are no longer welcome or accepted in this realm. Your time is done here Jack. Upon my blood, you’ll return to the earth that spawned you.”
Cernunnos reached up to his antlers, and slashed his palm open on a razor sharp tine. His blood flowed thick and red. He cast his hand forward as if throwing a ball and the crimson liquid splashed on the face of the Tree man who’d begun to flail in panic.
“No,” he trumpeted. The decomposition was spreading quickly. He convulsed painfully as the blood splashed his face, giving a low groan of agony.
“You’re sick Jack. Green men are closer to the land than any other who walks it. The realm takes it lead from the King and Herne’s vices twisted what should have been pure and true. Rest beneath the soil and when all is cleansed and whole, rise again.”
With those words, he slashed out with the naked blade cutting deep into the mossy
bark until the sword sheered free on the other side. Jack in the Green stopped fighting. Even as he decayed, what remained began to straighten. Dirty lichen dropped away from the bark to show rich swirled mahogany wood. The twisting vines became a deeper green even as they failed and turned to dust. Jack’s bulbous eyes stilled and cleared until he was able to turn a peaceful mien on his King. He closed them slowly and went peacefully, willingly to his end, as if he understood how much of a repugnant horror he’d become.
The wolves stopped growling and instead stood motionless as they witnessed the passing of a true ancient.
“Rest now” whispered Cernunnos.
Jack in the Green crumbled, his bark turning to rich soil that rained down to patter in a shallow mound. It was over, and the oldest Green man was no more. The Forest Lord let out a slow sad sigh, his bright eyes dimming with his sorrow. He crouched down and ran gentle bloodied fingers through the loose soil.
“I remember when you walked straight and tall and creatures came to you for shelter Old One. That time will come again. I swear it.”
As he spoke, a single green shoot appeared in the loam. It thrust its way up, so vibrant with life that it glowed against the gloom. As if gaining vitality from the shoot, the trees that surrounded the dark grove seemed to straighten, standing taller, foliage becoming lush and no longer wilted.
Cernunnos smiled at the evidence that the ages-old cycle would continue somehow. He straightened and cast a mischievous smile at the silent wolves.
“And now we run again.”
He dropped, changing once more into his huge, furred form and departed the empty clearing on silent feet.
Chapter Seven
Ryannon was panting. She’d been sprinting for a close to an hour and a stitch was making itself apparent in her side. Even though it pained her, she didn’t slacken her swift pace. Four feet were much quicker than two, and the Lord of the Forest wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. She had to gain as much ground as she could before the final showdown.
