She stopped, trying to keep her composure. I’d heard more than I wanted, and I hoped she wouldn’t go on. She was alive and that was sufficient. I had no desire to hear the rest of the tale, both for her sake and for mine.
It was Jane’s turn to put her arm around Sarah, as she continued, “That same, disgusting beast drug me by the hair, through the forest, and back to this cabin. It flung me onto the porch and left.”
Jane and Hannah had tears in their eyes.
“I never knew,” muttered Jane.
I was horrified by the brutality and my mind reeled, trying to figure out why the Brean had left Sarah alive. From the little I knew, it seemed like that was the first time they had let anyone live. But why?
Sarah recovered and wiped the tears from her eyes.
It was happening again…I felt strangely detached; rational enough to know what was happening, but not sure what to do about it. The anger grew. Why now? What did Sarah have to do with it? Did her pain trigger it? My face flushed and my hands shook. Fighting to control the fury and confusion, I clenched my fists and closed my eyes. Taking deep breaths, I tried calming down in a fruitless effort. My eyes felt like fire, as if they were going to burn through the skin. Unable to hold them closed any longer, I gave in to the rage. My eyelids flew open and that strange powerful vision burst forth. All the souls of the forest creatures filled my sight, in that same indescribable kaleidoscope of colors and hues. This time I wasn’t filled with amazement; I had a purpose. The anger gave me strength and a focus that I didn’t otherwise have. My vision expanded and the hills folded away, like peering through a powerful spyglass. The souls of living creatures flew by, but I wasn’t interested in them. I was hunting for something specific, and I found it miles away…the dark vortex of a monster, silently stalking its way through the woods, unaware that it, too, was being hunted.
Chapter Eight: Controlling the Lonely Road
CONSUMED by rage, I felt powerful—sure I could easily defeat the monster in battle. Everything faded from my sight, except my target. I studied the way it moved, how it hung in the shadows, slinking along the thicker parts of woods for cover, and always sniffing the air. I leapt to my feet, hatred boiling in my veins. Instantly, a warm, gentle but firm hand wrapped around my wrist and restrained me, and a familiar voice floated dreamily through my consciousness. It infuriated me. It was trying to distract me from my prey.
I whirled on Sarah and was greeted with the veil that blocked her soul from me. After all that’s happened to her, why was she trying to stop me? She’s scared, I thought. And it’s time for me to see what she’s hiding.
I focused my newfound energy on the shroud and slowly, against her will, it began to open a crack. But it wasn’t fear she was hiding, it was hope. It certainly wasn’t what I expected, and it startled me. Her hands reached up and gently held my face, her eyes pleading not to dig further; not because she wanted to hide something from me, but because she was trying to protect me from some knowledge that could hurt me.
It was enough to break the strange trance. When the last of the anger had seeped away, I felt deeply ashamed for what I had done. I’d broken into a friend who purposefully didn’t want me there; one who had somehow taken measures to keep me out. I had forced my way in and took something that wasn’t mine to take. I felt terrible. I tried to pull away, but Sarah held me firm.
She said something to me, and now that the fury was over, I could finally comprehend her words.
“You have to fight it, John. I know anger can be a powerful force, but using it is never a good choice. It’s a lonely road—one where true friends aren’t willing to follow; and it’s a hard one to come back from. If you act in anger, mistakes can be made, and people you love can be hurt.…”
She let that hang for a moment, like a deserving knife in the heart, and I knew that she knew what I had done.
Then she continued, “If you keep giving in, the next time it will be easier, and then easier again, until all regret and remorse have waxed cold. However,” she said softly, “as with any temptation, the more you fight it, the easier it becomes to control, until you become its master and not the other way around.”
The shame I felt was so great that I wanted to get on Smoke and run long and far and hide myself. Sarah had another plan: she pulled me close, wrapped her arms around me, and embraced me in a loving hug.
Quietly, so only she could hear, I whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
She whispered back, “You’re forgiven.”
Jane and Hannah exchanged bewildered looks, as they tried to figure out what had just happened. Giving up, Hannah simply stated, “That was strange.”
Jane, on the other hand, started to ask Sarah a question; but before she could get out anything more than, “Does he…?” Sarah, almost imperceptibly, shook her head and Jane fell quiet.
***
The next day was bright and sunny, but noticeably cooler. Jane and Hannah had slept in Sarah’s room. I tried to give up my bed, but all three insisted that it wasn’t necessary, claiming they always slept with Sarah in her amply large one. Being vastly outnumbered, I finally retreated to the safety of the loft.
After breakfast, we all helped with the chores. I took care of the animals and repaired some fencing that was badly in need of attention. Jane and Sarah quickly and efficiently harvested the remainder of the garden and orchard, and then went to work preserving what they had reaped. It was unclear as to what Hannah did; she seemed busy, but it was difficult to nail down exactly how she contributed. Apparently, Jane had trouble determining it too, because she eventually commented on it quite sharply—to which Hannah feigned great offense, saying that she was like the grease that kept the wagon wheels turning: hard to see the work that it does, but very important. Though, after Jane’s helpful input, Hannah became much more effective.
It was just about dusk when Sarah caught up with me outside the barn.
“John,” she said.
I turned.
The tone of her voice told me that it was serious. I put my tools down and looked at her.
“Have you seen them?”
I didn’t have to answer. As soon as she asked the question, her eyes floated past me and she noticed the rifle and the strung up crossbow leaning against the barn wall. I knew exactly what she asked, and it wasn’t about Jane and Hannah. Ever since I had discovered my new gift, I’d quickly put it to use by sweeping the woods every so often. Today, not one, but two Brean returned.
“It’s the first time I’ve seen two of them watching,” she said.
“Mmm,” I replied. “There was only one in the beginning. It left and then came back with the other.”
She pondered this.
“Tomorrow the girls will be returning to Marysvale.”
“Yes,” I said, already aware of what she planned on asking. “I’ll accompany them.”
She looked relieved. “Thank you.”
“Though I’m not as familiar with the Brean as you are, I don’t think this is a good development. You should come with us.”
I already knew what her answer would be—I could see it on her face; but I wanted to hear it anyway.
She didn’t say anything for a moment, then replied slowly, “I don’t think it would be good, for a number of people, if I went to town. You’ll have a better trip if I don’t go.”
“A better trip, how?” I prodded.
She didn’t answer, so I did. “Because this isn’t just your home…it’s also your prison.”
She nodded slowly, as if I’d forced it out of her.
“Why?” I asked simply.
“I know this may be asking too much,” she said softly. “I haven’t given you a lot of answers, and I’m afraid I can’t give you much more. Please believe me when I say it’s for your own protection that you do not know, at least for now. What you don’t know, they can’t find out.”
She looked at me, hopeful that I would accept what she said and not question her further.
/> Remembering how quickly she’d forgiven me, after angrily breaking into her thoughts, I looked into her eyes and said, “I trust you.”
Her eyes moistened and there was warmth in her smile that I wasn’t sure I deserved.
Then she said, “I know you must be concerned with where you are going to live for the winter. I want you to stay here.”
I started to protest, but she cut me off.
“Will you stop arguing every time someone does something nice for you, and just accept it? This journey will put you at least four or five days out and there isn’t anywhere to go without fighting the Brean. You can also put your mind at ease: it won’t be charity—though there is nothing wrong with that. I have plenty of work here for the both of us to get done before the first snow flies, and even after. You’ll be a tremendous help.” She then grinned and added, “I’ll see to that.”
I couldn’t deny it would be a great relief for me, so I accepted.
“Good. Now let’s go find the girls. I don’t trust those things, and I don’t want Jane and Hannah out of our sight. I should warn you, Jane has grown up in a tough world; and she has a very independent spirit. Chances are, she won’t like the idea of your coming along. She may think I don’t trust her.”
“I won’t take no for an answer,” I said defiantly.
“Good.”
We found the girls in the kitchen, or rather Sarah did; I stayed on the front porch where I could keep track of the Brean—both of which were still there. I wondered if they knew I could see them and hoped they wouldn’t stay too long. I also knew that it wasn’t practical to sit here and watch them all the time. There had been plenty of times during the night when they could have come unnoticed and, unlike Sarah, I didn’t put too much trust in the dog warning us, or any other animal for that matter—except maybe Smoke. I still debated if it were safer for him to be locked in the barn or left out in the pasture where he’d have a running chance if attacked—probably the latter. Still, sitting here made me feel more in control; at least I felt we’d have a better chance of survival if they moved on us.
Jane came out shortly, carrying a drink of water.
“Here,” she said. “Sarah sent me to bring this to you. You must be thirsty.”
“Thank you.”
She eyed the rifle and the crossbow at my feet.
“What are those for?”
“Rabbits.”
“No they aren’t. Besides, you couldn’t hit a running rabbit with that thing,” she said, pointing to the crossbow.
A plan formed in my mind, and I decided to bait her.
“Maybe I could. How would you know?” I asked.
“Then prove it.”
“Sorry, I don’t see any rabbits, do you?”
“See, I knew you couldn’t; you’re just making excuses now,” she accused.
“How about I make you a deal?”
“This sounds more like a wager,” she said disapprovingly. “And I don’t bet.”
“Suit yourself,” I said, acting like it didn’t matter either way. Then mustering the most conceited look I could, added, “It’s probably better anyway; you would have lost.”
She sat there for a moment and then asked, as if she didn’t care, “Not that I’m agreeing to anything…but what would the deal be?”
I smiled. “We’ll get an apple from Sarah. You throw it any way you want, except straight down. If I hit it with the crossbow, you let me escort you and Hannah back to Marysvale.”
“I don’t need your protection,” she said haughtily.
I replied sincerely, “No, I suppose you don’t. Even so, that’s the deal.”
She pondered that and asked, “What do I get if you miss?”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know. You don’t have anything I want…except…”
She glanced at Smoke.
“No,” I said flatly.
“So either way you’re out nothing. If you miss, you have to do nothing. If you hit it, then you get your way—or rather, I suspect, Sarah’s way, since she’s making you accompany us, isn’t she?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say a four or five-day round trip, through a forest known to inhabit man-killing monsters, is nothing,” I replied.
“But, you don’t deny it.”
I didn’t.
“That’s what I thought.” She paused. “I don’t know. You obviously think you can hit it, or you wouldn’t have bet.”
She looked at the crossbow.
“That has two shots?”
I nodded.
“Then here is what I’ll agree to: you have to hit it twice in the same throw.”
I started to protest, but she cut me off. “It’s this or nothing; but I’ll be fair. I’ll throw it as high and far as I can to give you a clean shot—no tricks. But if you miss, then I want your word that you won’t follow me tomorrow, no matter what Sarah says.”
“In that case, I get two chances.”
“You can have three,” she said smugly. “Because there is no way you can hit the same apple twice in the same throw.”
“Then we’re agreed?”
She quietly went into the house.
I glanced back at the monsters. They were gone. Good, I thought. If they really do study their prey, then I don’t want them to see what I’m about to do…or at least hope to do.
Jane returned with not only three apples, but with an excited Hannah and a disapproving Sarah.
“Oh, this is so exciting,” said Hannah. “I hope you win. I think it would be fun to have you along.”
“I hope you win, too,” added Sarah coolly.
I picked up the crossbow and stepped down off the porch. Jane followed, carrying the three apples. She stepped a few paces to my side, but as she passed, she brushed her body against mine and whispered in a seductive voice, “Good luck, John. You’re going to need it.”
“Did you see that?” exclaimed Hannah perturbed. “Did you see what she did? She’s trying to distract him! That’s not fair!”
I turned, winked at Hannah, and said, “Don’t worry. It won’t work.”
She giggled.
Jane put two of the apples down on the ground, and kept one in her hand.
“When you’re ready,” she said.
I brought the crossbow up and prepared for her toss.
“Go.”
She heaved back and threw the apple in a high arch. I steadied my breath, aimed, and as soon as the small red projectile was safely away, I let the first arrow fly. With little more than the click of the trigger and twang from the string, it shot out like a streak of lightning. It whirred through the air toward the fleeing target and sliced off a corner. Jane gasped, just as the second arrow tore straight through the rest of the apple, shredding it to pieces.
Hannah clapped and cheered wildly, while jumping up and down. Sarah looked relieved, and Jane was speechless.
As the remaining bits of apple rained down, I walked by the still disbelieving Jane and whispered in her ear, “I should have bet more.”
“You knew you could do it in one try, didn’t you?” she accused, while following me to help retrieve the arrows.
“Of course. But I had to make it look like there was some doubt as to whether I could hit it or not; otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed.”
She smiled insincerely. “I was going to let you come anyway. Sarah would have insisted, regardless of our wager; and Hannah would have harassed me endlessly if we left you behind.”
“That’s good, because I would have come anyway.”
“And break your word?”
“No. But I never promised that I wouldn’t accompany Hannah. You would have had to join us if you wanted to ride on horses—or have a very long walk alone.”
“You wouldn’t have!”
I didn’t answer and she shot me a mean look; but for the first time, her eyes were playful and betrayed the scowl on her face.
After quickly recovering the arrows, we walked back
toward the cabin together. I found it difficult to keep my eyes off her. The wind gently blew her long hair, trailing it out behind and away from her smooth neck. Suddenly, she turned and caught me stealing a look. Unexpectedly, she flashed a gorgeous, if not a slightly embarrassed, smile, and then quickly looked away. And just like that, Sarah’s prediction came true—I was glad to be accompanying Jane back to Marysvale.
***
The memory of Jane sitting next to me on the swing, her sweet smell, and beautiful smile made falling asleep difficult. But what made it even more elusive was the disturbing sight of the two Brean. One watching us would have been bad enough, but two gave me the impression they were collaborating. Not that I knew for sure, but it didn’t bode well and nothing good could come of it. When sleep finally did come, it was restless. I awoke frequently and found it a most difficult task finding a comfortable position. The room grew noticeably colder. Finally, abandoning all hope of sleep, I lay there and watched little puffs of vapor shoot out of my mouth with each breath.
The night was silent; not a sound could be heard. I felt uneasy and couldn’t quite figure out why. Nothing seemed that different, just like any other night; but I had a feeling I was being watched. I glanced at the doorway expecting to see Sarah, or perhaps Jane, but it was empty. I doubted one of them watching me sleep would cause such a nervous feeling anyway. In anticipation, I got up, sat on the edge of the bed, and looked toward the stairs for a moment. Nothing appeared. I wondered if I was just upset from lack of sleep, and debated if lying back down would do any good. Probably not, but sitting by the warm fireplace might. I started for the stairs and stopped. Something told me to get the rifle that had taken up residence near the bed. Downstairs is full of weapons, I argued with myself. Why would I need this one? I again turned to leave, and once more the feeling returned. Stupid. I’m just being paranoid. I renewed my efforts for the door. Again, the impression to grab the rifle stopped me in my tracks. Fine, I told myself. Have it your way, you chicken. I turned to retrieve the weapon and leapt back with shock and horror.
Marysvale Page 10
