SHAPESHIFTERS (3 Tales to Chill Your Bones)

by Mav Skye

  SHAPESHIFTERS

  3 Tales to Chill Your Bones—Volume Three

  Mav Skye

  Contents

  Copyright

  Lacerta

  Heart for a Heart

  Neverwas of Koppelburg Hill

  About the Author

  Also by Mav Skye

  Bibliography

  SHAPESHIFTERS: 3 Tales to Chill Your Bones, Volume Three is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © Mav Skye, 2014

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please contact the author at the following email address: darksoftly@gmail.com

  Cover Art by Mav Skye

  Images © Patrick Ruzik © Laurio Tus|123RF.com

  Created with Vellum

  Lacerta

  His tongue was hot liquid on her skin. It slid down Ribbon’s cheek, chin, down, down her collar bone, the curve of cleavage, further—then it was gone. She reached for his shoulders, found them, pulled him closer to her. He held back.

  Ribbon sensed the tremble in his pulse, heard the hiss of his breath, sweet and warm. Her fingers danced down his shoulders to the raised skin on his arms. He felt so peculiar, unlike anything she’d ever touched. His skin was rough and delightfully cold compared to the high heat of the Midwestern sun.

  “Who are you?” asked Ribbon.

  “You,” he whispered, lifting a hand to her neck, his thumb brushing the rise of her jaw line. “You are my sun. I feel your life and it…” He paused, a lovely, wonderful pause. He’d barely spoken a word since they met, but when he did speak, it filled Ribbon with such longing, longing to warm the chill of his skin and the frost his heart had known. She wanted to know his secrets, his past. How was it he could walk the forest unafraid?

  “It fills me,” he whispered in earnest.

  This made Ribbon smile. His poetry hadn’t answered her question, but it was good enough. More than enough. She lifted her fingers to his face, to explore the curves and dips as he had her body. There was so much that could be told by the feel of one’s face, whether they smiled or frowned, old or young, compassionate or harsh.

  He caught her hand in his. “Anything. But not that.” Ribbon’s heart fell. All this time and his face remained off limits, when everything else had been fair game. She wondered if he had scars. Perhaps he was disfigured? None of this mattered to her. “But why?”

  “You should go,” he whispered.

  “I should?” Ribbon smiled, knowing it teased him. She grabbed her cane, rose, and smoothed out her dress. She wondered what expression he held on his face.

  “My father will be home soon anyway.” Ribbon tapped her cane on the forest floor. The cane struck foliage. She bent and touched the leaves, felt the shape of the berries—a huckleberry bush. The trail was beside it. She took a few steps forward, and turned expectedly, hoping he’d ask. It wasn’t only the pleasure of his company she sought; it was his protection. A monster stalked the woods. She had always thought it a childhood tale the old folks made up to keep them out of the woods, but she’d heard something different in the woods that afternoon. The steps weren’t the random wandering of a creature, but precise, knowing, watching. Ribbon knew when she was being watched.

  * * *

  “Cecilia Cher, what are you dreaming about tonight?” Papa asked this from his rocking chair. Ribbon listened to the slow creaking rhythm the chair made. She loved the pet name he called her.

  Ribbon rested her chin on her hands and let her feet fall to the wooden floor on which she lay. The fuzzy kitten beside her yawned, she heard its slight intake of breath, and felt the tongue lick at her arm. Papa had told her the kitten was orange. Orange, Ribbon imagined, was the color of the sun dripping heat upon her skin. It was the color of life. It was the color of the life she dreamed, and all she dreamed about was the mysterious man. She’d been asked three times already to marry, which, she was told, was extremely lucky for a blind woman. All three suitors had smelled of dirty socks and moldy bread crust. They hadn’t held her interest. In contrast, the mysterious man’s exotic scent pulled to her even now.

  Beside her, Ribbon felt the warm hearth. Heat from the fire licked her skin. Fire, she was told, is also orange, but she imagines it is red. Hot red flames are the color of her desire. The way he made her feel.

  They had met only a handful of times, but she knew the first time he kissed her, when his long tongue tickled the inside of her mouth and his icy fingers stroked her hair, the color of their love was red. All Ribbon could see was the way she felt. And all she felt now is the pulse throbbing in her throat where his tongue had melted her.

  “Cecilia Cher?”

  She lifted her head to Papa. “Yes?”

  “What are you thinking of?”

  Cecilia smiled. “The color of fire.”

  “Oh?”

  “Mmm…” She heard the creaking of his rocking chair as he stood. The clap of his boots on the floor as he drew near and sat beside her. Ribbon felt him lift her hair away from her neck. He hadn’t done that in years. She smiled and let her arms collapse to the floor. Her head relaxed down on them.

  “Cecilia Cher, did you go into the forest again this evening?”

  She never lied to him before, and she wouldn’t start today. “Yes, Papa.” Cecilia heard him sigh, and she felt a tad guilty.

  “But I’ve told you over and over, the monster lives—”

  “In the woods,” she finished. “I’ve been in the woods several times, Papa, and nothing has eaten me yet.” She thought of the mysterious man’s mouth on her skin. He had certainly been hungry, and that made her laugh out loud.

  Papa stopped petting her hair, and she heard the familiar sigh, which preceded a lecture.

  “How would you know if it were watching you—stalking you? That’s what it does. I’ve told you all this. A girl of your condition…”

  The fine hair on Ribbon’s arms bristled. “I am just as capable as any woman. Besides, I’ve never heard anything out of the ordinary?” She left this off as a question. She wasn’t sure she had heard anything out of the ordinary, yet her heart told her she had.

  “You know what I meant,” said Papa.

  Papa had been distracted lately with the town meetings. He and Sheridan were head to head over how to handle the growing needs of the town. Sheridan insisted on selling the gold they had mined from the caves. Papa thought the gold should be saved for ‘hard times’. Ribbon recalled Sheridan’s sarcastic voice, syrupy and cutting. He smelt of vinegar. He was a shrewd man who’d skin Papa’s hide to get his way. Papa was blind to this.

  The forest walks had started out as a distraction from Papa’s ill treatment. It lulled her mind. She felt it was a way to make herself brave for her Papa as well as herself.

  She enjoyed the birdcalls, the gentle beating wing of a firefly, the graceful step of deer. It was a whole new world, and she could almost believe the monster was just a lie. Almost.

  “Cecilia Cher? Do you know the color of the monster?”

  Ribbon thought. She shook her head.

  “Green. A ghastly green! Do you know what green feels like?” She thought of the stem of grass, the leaf of a young maple, the crumple of
a paper bill. “Yes, Papa.”

  “Not all green is like a plant, or money. Sit up, I’d like you to feel this.” She pushed her herself into a sitting position, and took the object her father held.

  Her fingers went to work. It felt rough like the kitten’s tongue. Her fingers stumbled over the scales, spikes along its spine, the sharp claws below its legs. Her lower lip trembled. Familiar, so familiar. “What is it, Papa?” She felt about the object’s face, the long snout, the slight gouges where its eyes had been.

  “It is a reptile, a lizard. It is Lacerta, Cecilia Cher.”

  Of course, Ribbon knew by description what a reptile was, however she had never felt a lizard. She’d never the desire.

  “Lizards are green, an awful green. This is the color of the monster that lives in the woods. The monster is cold, Cecilia Cher, so very cold.”

  “Lacerta,” she murmured.

  “One touch of the monster’s finger will turn you to ice!”

  Ribbon dropped the lizard on the floor and wrapped her arms about herself. “How do you know this, Papa? Have you seen the monster?”

  Silence spoke his answer. No, he’d never seen it.

  “I’ve seen the faces of the loved ones who have lost someone to it and that is enough for me to believe, Cecilia Cher,” said Papa.

  A mix of emotion spilled inside her. Fear of what stalked her in the woods, anger at papa for being right.

  “Stop calling me that. I outgrew it long ago. I prefer Ribbon. Cecilia Cher is for a young girl.”

  “You will always be my little deer, Cecilia Cher.”

  “Your blind deer,” said Ribbon.

  “Promise me not to set foot in the woods again. I don’t know what you are doing out there, or if you are meeting someone…”

  Time paused. Fire crackled over a log. Even the kitten held its breath.

  “Either way, no more.”

  Ribbon turned her face to the fire. She didn’t answer back.

  * * *

  “Payment has been received in full.” Ribbon heard the old woman say. She reached for the tent flap, when it rose and she felt a presence exit.

  As she stepped aside to let the person pass, she smelled vinegar.

  “Why, Miss Ribbon, fancy meeting you here.” The whine of his voice held that familiar sickly syrupy sweetness.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Councilman. Did the old woman fix your problems?”

  He met her answer with silence. She felt his eyes sweep her over. He said, “You are certainly your father’s daughter. Yes, the old gal fixed me up with a sleeping tonic. I haven’t been resting well.”

  The sound of his voice was wrong. Deceitful. She would have to warn Papa about him when she got home. Sheridan had a trick up his sleeve. Perhaps he planned on mixing his sleeping tonic with poison to slip in Papa’s drink.

  She ducked under the tent flap he held for her and said, “Goodbye, Mr. Councilman.”

  “Goodbye, Miss Ribbon.” He let the tent flap fall and hit her full on her backside, startling her.

  “Fancy you coming here today, child.” The gypsy rasped as if she had gargled rocks. A heavy silence followed. Ribbon thought of turning and fleeing.

  “Aren’t you afraid of the monster?” asked the gypsy.

  Ribbon stood speechless. How had she known? Of course she was afraid, yet she longed to visit the mysterious man again. She stepped forward and tapped with her cane. It struck the foot of the bench. She sat and twirled the cane between her fingers. “Yes. I think it’s following me. It’s why I need your help.”

  “What is it that draws you into the forest?”

  “I…” She couldn’t help it. Her cheeks burned hot. “To meet someone.”

  “I see,” said the gypsy.

  Ribbon heard laughter in her voice. There was something else. It was as if the gypsy understood more than she was letting on.

  “I have just the potion for you.”

  “What is it?” Ribbon asked.

  “Give me your hand. It will only hurt a little,” said the gypsy.

  “But what is it? What will you do?”

  “The potion will turn you into a creature. You will have the ability to roam the forest without the monster sensing you as human,” said the gypsy.

  “But, doesn’t the monster eat animals as well?”

  The gypsy sighed. “The monster has a taste for human flesh. It will harm you in human form long before it will ever harm an animal of the forest. I am surprised he hasn’t caught you yet.”

  Ribbon clasped her hands, hesitating. “It doesn’t sound that safe to me.” Something about the woman’s voice was wrong. The gypsy was playing a game. Ribbon didn’t trust her.

  Her longing for the mysterious man was unbearable. It had been two weeks since she’d last stolen away. Papa had Aunt Marie come and stay with them, just to help with the housework while he was away. Ribbon knew he’d brought Aunt Marie to keep an eye on her, Ribbon, a full-grown woman. Ridiculous.

  Ribbon felt she couldn’t complain too much. It would have been easy to sneak away from Aunt Marie’s watching eyes. Ribbon heard noises at her bedroom window at night, a slight scratch like a tree branch. Outside, in the mornings, when doing chores around the farm, she sensed something watching her just beyond the forest border of trees. It watched, waited. If Aunt Marie hadn’t been there….

  “Imagine, Cecilia Cher,” the gypsy woman paused.

  Ribbon gasped. How did she know her pet name?

  “Can you imagine what it would be like to see through an animal’s eyes.”

  To see colors, textures, shapes, Ribbon thought, to see the world she’s been imagining from her earliest childhood. Ribbon stretched her hand out to the gypsy.

  The gypsy grasped Ribbon’s hand. “Are you sure, child?”

  Ribbon nodded.

  The gypsy pricked her finger with a needle. “That’ll do.”

  Ribbon sensed something like a blanket cover her shoulders. It felt like fate, and smelled of death. This gave her chills and suddenly, she knew she’d made the wrong decision to come here, and yet to have sight, she’d do anything. She drew her finger to her mouth and sucked on her finger.

  “One cap's swallow before you enter the woods. The transformation will be painful. One swallow to turn human again.”

  The gypsy placed the potion bottle in Ribbon’s hand.

  “Oh, the money.” Ribbon drew a coin purse from her pocket.

  “No, no payment required,” said the gypsy.

  Fate struck Ribbon’s heart again. She felt nauseous. “But why not?”

  The gypsy remained silent.

  Ribbon stood with her cane, turned, and tapped her stick. She walked until she felt the flap of the tent across her shoulder. A scent filled her nostrils. Vinegar.

  “Your debt has been paid in full.”

  The gypsy’s words followed her out of tent into the filthy part of the village. Sheridan had done something terrible, terrible. She had to warn Papa. She scurried down the street as fast as she could. Her cane guiding her around mud puddles and cattle dung. Dogs barked and yipped as she walked by yards, and once she felt something bite at her skirt. “Bad dog!” she screamed and ran. She ran all the way home.

  * * *

  Ribbon arrived home to find a note from Auntie Marie. Aunt Marie used thick paint to scribble her messages. Cecilia could feel the shape of the letters and words.

  She had gone to town for the grocerying, and Papa was out late at a meeting. She wanted to warn Papa right away. Perhaps she should make a trip back to town? It would grow dark and she was concerned about what may stalk her. Besides, Ribbon she could feel the potion vial in her pocket, and she couldn’t wait one minute more to use it. She grabbed the bottle of paint and the dainty paintbrush left in a chipped glass cup. She felt for a stack of paper, drawing a page off the top. By the feel of it, it was blank. She scrawled a message making sure to dip her paintbrush often.
r />   Dear Papa,

  I’m worried about you.

  I think Sheridan wants to hurt you.

  Talk soon.

  Ribbon

  With a second thought, Ribbon drew a line through her name and below it wrote:

  I love you, Cecilia Cher

  * * *

  Ribbon rested on the forest floor with her eyes closed, letting the horrendous pain seep out of her new body. She could feel her heart race double its normal pace. She smelled grass, trees, and rabbit droppings. The birds sang even sweeter than before, and she could translate their song.

  Slowly, slowly, she opened her eyes. Browns, greens, the yellow orange of the sun attacked her all at once! She jumped to all fours and scrambled backwards. Her hindquarters smacked into a tree, knocking her back down to the ground. She looked this way and that. Ribbon tried to bring her hands up over her eyes, but instead poked her mouth with a hoof.

  She stood and looked down at her furry legs, then to her long, brown body. Tiny white dots speckled her hindquarters. She wiggled her tail. Realization filled her.

  She could see. See. For the first time in her life, she was not only filled with touch, sound, taste, and scent, but vision as well. She crouched and sprang into the afternoon air. Her legs carried her around trees, over rocks and stumps, across a creek and through a meadow that held such vivid colors that had never been possible to dream before, and then she remembered what was in her heart.

  She lifted her head and breathed in the air. Immediately she caught his scent. He was near. Of course, he was near. She bounded around the forest bend, paying no mind to the sudden hush of birdcalls and the curious prickle of hair that rose down her spine.

  Ribbon saw a figure in the distance.

  He stood with his back to her. Unclothed from the waist up. She slowed as she approached, taking in every inch of him.