Lost Girl

by Mary E. Twomey

  Other than the extreme circumstances, I wasn’t a hand-holder. Apparently Draper was. It was kind of nice. I’d never had a brother before, other than the one I’d made in Judah. I was determined not to screw this up. If Draper was a hand-holder, then I would get on board with that. I squeezed his hand just to assure him I was good at being a little sister. He bought it, and gave me a smile to cover over his growing fear at traipsing through the Désespéré Woods. “You want to tell me more about what I’ve got to look forward to when we go to Common?”

  “Electricity’s going to blow your mind. You flip a switch, and there’s light. It’s our own brand of magic. You’ll love it.” It was easier to walk now, with many of the trees felled in this particular area.

  “Sounds great. I’ve heard stories about things the Fae used to be able to do before my time – make light with a click of our fingers – but much of the magic’s gone out of Avalon since then.”

  “What other kinds of magic did there used to be?”

  “Oh, the Fae could fly, make their fingers light up by snapping them, some of the more powerful ones could walk through walls, hold their breath for hours underwater. You know, things like that. Now we can keep nature going around us, but it’s a greater effort than it used to be. I wonder when that too will be gone.”

  “Hold the phone. The Fae could fly?” I tried to picture the oddity, and then looked down at my hands to see if they appeared any different to me with this new information factored in. “That’s crazy awesome.”

  Bayard was gruff when he interjected. “Yes, well it wasn’t ‘crazy awesome’ when the magic went out from the world. The higher magic went away one day with no reason, no warning. The more dangerous creatures were taken clean out of Faîte along with it. Maybe we could’ve had a fresh start, but I don’t think we’re all that better off.”

  Draper gripped my hand tighter and kept up a steady pace. “Tell me, do they have a wide variety of animals in your world?”

  “Oh, yeah. Wait till you see an anteater for the first time. You’ll be like, ‘Ro, that’s insane. You should’ve warned me.’ And I’ll be like, ‘Remember that time in the Désespéré Woods? I totally did.’”

  Draper chuckled at my stellar impression of him. “Do you have large animals?”

  “Sure. Elephants are pretty huge.” I motioned to a tree about the right height. “As tall as that one there.”

  I flinched when Bayard pulled his sword out and looked around with caution, his shoulders tensed. He sniffed the air, glancing behind him, and then in front curiously.

  “You don’t have anything taller? Say, twice as tall?”

  I shrugged. “Not sure. Giraffes, maybe.”

  “The Gévaudan is quite large. I don’t want you to be caught by surprise.” Draper’s voice lowered. “I’ve never been this far into the Désespéré Woods.” He picked up our joined hands and pointed toward a clearing that had a whole mess of sticks, feathers and nature all jammed up in there. It almost looked like a giant nest, fit for Big Bird. Draper stopped and held his free fist up, his voice quieting to a whisper. “Let’s go around. That’s where its home is.”

  Goosebumps broke out on my skin. Not to get all crazy on you, but my goosebumps are never wrong. They urged me forward, and I knew I couldn’t disobey the command my body gave. I dropped Draper’s hand and moved toward the nest. “Go on around. I’ll catch up. I need to see what’s in there.”

  Draper caught my arm, and Bayard surprised me by moving to block my path. “Pups,” he whispered, pointing to the left to indicate we were going around, instead of nearer the danger. I mean, I got it, but my gut was pulling me forward.

  “How many?” Draper asked, bringing me under his arm so I was sheltered in his wing of protection.

  Bayard turned, standing on his toes and craning his neck to count. “I can make out five, but they’re all piled in together, so it’s hard to tell.”

  Draper met his eye. “We can’t let them run free. There’ll be no end to the slaughter.” His eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t realize there were two adult Gévaudans. We may not be able to contain the adults, but we can handle the pups.”

  “Contain? Handle? Draper, what are you talking about?” I whispered.

  “Stay here. Bayard and I can deal with the problem easy enough.”

  Panic seeped into my pores, and now I understood what my goosebumps had been warning me about. I grabbed onto Bayard and Draper, shaking my head as I fought to maintain the whisper that had been established. “No! You can’t kill sleeping babies!”

  Draper motioned with his finger for me to turn my head away from the oncoming carnage. “It’s got to be this way. Bayard’s right. It’s five animal lives versus possibly hundreds of people they’ll kill once they mature. We can’t leave the people of Avalon to fight a battle like that. They can barely take care of themselves. This is how it has to be, Rosie.” He swirled his finger in the air. “Turn around, pumpkin. I don’t want you to see this.”

  12

  The Gévaudan Pups

  Bayard’s footsteps roused one of the pups as he stepped into the nest of branches, bramble and feathers, and I heard a distinct whine for his mama. My heart pulled inside my chest, desperation rising up as words deserted me. “Where’s mama?” one of the pups said. “Who…”

  It was too much. I broke out of the obedient hold I had on myself and bolted to the nest, reaching the pups too late. Draper and Bayard acted quick. They were pulling their bloody swords from the pups, one by one. The last baby started howling, giving away our location and our dark deed.

  I hopped over the edge and threw myself into the nest, shielding the only live pup that was left. Though he was a baby, he was as big as a Shetland pony, and looked sort of like a wolf mixed with a fox. “No! I can hear them! They’re just babies, and you’re murdering them in their sleep!” The pup in my arms howled as I tried to remove him from his brothers and sisters, who were bleeding out in the nest. He was so heavy and large; I couldn’t get him to budge, frozen in his fear as he was.

  Draper had his arms raised to calm me down. “Rosie, be reasonable. This is their size as babies. Fully grown? You have no idea the damage they can do.”

  “But I can hear them! You all said they were monsters, not animals, and that I wouldn’t be able to hear them, but I can! They’re crying for their mama while they die!” I glared at Draper. “Don’t you know what it’s like to cry for your mama? Is that what you want to do to another living being that has feelings and sentient thoughts?”

  Pain pulled at Draper’s wide mouth, tugging the corners downward. “It has to be done, pumpkin.”

  Bayard stepped on the freshly dead bodies to get to my wolf puppy, so I laid on top of the baby, shielding him as best I could. I heard a stream of confusion, fear and boiling anger rising up in the baby’s conflicting thoughts, so I ran my fingers down his side, feeling the soft brown hair that was several inches long, and thicker than your average fur coat. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You can stay with me.” He was just starting to calm, but then howled when Bayard gripped my hair and ripped me up, leaving the pup exposed. There was a quick flash of the sword, and it plunged downward into the baby’s chest. Bayard pulled it out coated in thick red goo.

  My mouth fell open, gearing up to let out a scream that started in my toes and echoed up my body. Draper’s palm cupped my mouth, trapping the sound inside. He pulled me backwards out of the nest and lowered me to the ground, holding me to his side as we knelt by the nest until my muffled scream dissolved into bitter sobs. “How could you do that to a baby?” I accused, horrified.

  Draper scooped my head to his chest with more love than I could understand. “I’m sorry, Rosie. But they weren’t babies; they’re little monsters. They’ll tear your head off as soon as look at you. I won’t let you get killed because you like to play with monsters. You have me now, so you don’t need to resort to that anymore.”

  I knew he was being reasonable, and if I were in
his shoes, I might feel the same way. But hearing their thoughts just as they died made them feel less like monsters and more like sweet little babies who just needed someone to take care of them. Maybe I could’ve helped them not murder so much. Maybe they could’ve learned to be docile, like Abraham Lincoln.

  Bayard wiped his sword off on the grass, offering his hand to Draper, who released me from our huddle. “This is what we’re in for, traveling with womenfolk. Let’s go, before the mother smells the blood.”

  I wiped off my wet eyes and gave Bayard an I-don’t-forgive-you shove as I passed, moving where my gut led me to the other side of the nest. The three of us froze as a howl that was deeper and grander reached us from what sounded like not too far away.

  “Run!” Bayard bellowed, sheathing his sword and taking the lead. He bolted forward, trying to distance himself from the smell of blood that would surely be his undoing. Our undoing.

  Draper was attached to my hand, setting a pace I could only just keep up with. His grip was hard, and he was panting as we moved through the sparse expanse of trees. They were thicker up ahead, but I could hear nature being crashed through from behind us, and knew we’d never reach the covering in time.

  “You’ve led us to our deaths!” Bayard accused, whirling around when he heard what sounded like an tyrannosaurus rex crashing through nature behind us into the clearing.

  We turned as one and gasped at the monster that revealed herself in the open space. With a body almost twice as tall as an elephant, reddish brown hair, and a foaming maw nearly as long as my body, I finally understood why they’d insisted the babies had to die.

  “Blood! Blood! No!” I heard the mama’s howl as she took in the carnage. My heart broke for her, and as much as I wanted to live through this, I knew we deserved a good thrashing for what the guys had done to her. The Gévaudan salivated, huge buckets of slobber dripping down onto the grass as she began to slip into kill mode.

  Draper, Bayard and I ducked behind a cluster of trees, but the scent of blood was too fresh not to be noticed. Instead of fleeing, the three of us hunkered down behind a few trees, holding hands and praying we’d make it out with our heads intact. The mama’s thoughts grew more and more incoherent through her grieving, which was mingled with snorted vendetta of “Die! Die! Rip! Kill!”

  I thought for sure she’d find us. I mean, I probably smelled like her baby, and Bayard and Draper for sure had traces of blood that could be tracked easily enough by such a predator. But when she sniffed the air, she seemed torn which way to go – behind her or toward us.

  Draper drew me slightly behind him, so his shoulder was shielding the right half of my body. Something about that bravery and unswerving loyalty in the face of such real danger made me attach to him far deeper than I’d anticipated this soon. It felt like family. I kissed the back of Draper’s shoulder, holding tight to him. For this briefest of moments, I had a family. I had a mom and an overprotective big brother. In our pretend life together, we’d all live in the apartment. I’d go to school. Lane and Draper would go off to work, and then at the end of the day we’d make spaghetti together when Judah and I got home from class. Lane and I always crafted our own pasta when we wanted to feel extra fancy. We didn’t have a big kitchen to hang it in to dry, so we hung the long noodles on coat hangers all over the apartment. In my pretend life, we could eat handmade pasta while we watched shark movies. We could force Draper to suffer through our musicals that Judah always made an excuse to go home during. I’d be sandwiched between my brother and my mother, fighting Draper for popcorn. On that couch I would know I was loved – much like I knew now.

  My arms wrapped around Draper’s middle, letting him know that where he went, I would follow.

  13

  The Gévaudan’s Revenge

  My eyes were closed as I willed the Gévaudan to find an errant cow (it could happen, right?) or something more delicious than eating us in revenge. We were completely still, but somehow that wasn’t good enough. The Gévaudan’s nose was keen, and sniffed us out like the good tracking animal it was.

  It let out a loud howl of angst and anger that tore at my insides. Her thoughts were harder to pick out whole sentences, but I heard a distinct waft of desperation and horror. My eyes misted over, but I tried not to let the tears fall. Listening to animals grieve was the worst. They didn’t have all the words for it, so it came out like a punch of angst. She loved her babies. They were her everything. I was afraid of her alerting the daddy Gévaudan, but she didn’t seem to be calling for him. She was caught in her worst nightmare.

  I heard hooves coming toward the clearing. I wanted to warn the rider to get lost, but when the pure black horse pranced before the Gévaudan, no one was on his saddled back telling him where to go. There was a white lightning bolt shape running down his flank.

  It was the horse – the one we’d been searching for. The Horse to Nowhere who only showed up to take Avalonians to the Forgotten Forest when they’d given up on living. I gasped at the revelation that my gut had led us to the babies, only to have us kill them, which would drive their mother to such heartbreak that the Cheval Mallet would come for her with his offer for solace and escape.

  I could hear the horse far clearer than the Gévaudan. He started with a grim greeting that rang in my ears with a deep baritone. “You have nothing left. Follow me, and I’ll take you to a place you can rest.”

  “You did it,” Draper began, his mouth dropping open.

  Bayard’s hand went over his heart in a pledge, his whisper barely audible through his awe. “I don’t believe it. I’ve never seen him before. I hoped your Compass wasn’t wrong, but I admit, I didn’t believe it would happen. Not like this, at least.”

  “I’ll take that as your apology, but I’m going to want flowers and a song after this is all settled,” I groused to Bayard.

  His eyes were on the horse in reverence. “You can have whatever you like. You did it!”

  The Gévaudan howled out a reply that explained in broken phrasing that her babies were dead, and she had to kill the murderers first. The horse bowed, said he’d wait, and moved to the edge of the clearing, laying down in the grass to watch the show.

  The Gévaudan knew where we were. She could smell us a mile away. Her eyes zeroed in on our stretch of the woods, hidden though we were, and she slowly began stalking toward us. My plan was to get us to the Cheval Mallet. I hadn’t banked on our killing the babies being the thing that drew him out, and I certainly didn’t have a plan for how we’d survive this.

  Bayard placed his hairy hand on my shoulder. “I’ll fight the Gévaudan. She’ll be satisfied with my death, since I smell like blood. Use the distraction to escape on the Cheval Mallet. Don’t let my death be for nothing. Leave my body and save Avalon!” he whispered, his grip tight.

  “No!” I replied, horrified. “We’re not serving you up for dinner.” I began to see how deep the love for their homeland ran, and how far they were willing to go to save it. It was noble, which wasn’t something I expected to say about Bayard. “Maybe I can try talking to her. Her language is a little broken, but it’s worth a shot.”

  Draper’s hand folded over the grip I had on his ribs from behind. “Don’t you dare, Rosie.” He leaned over me and shook Bayard’s hand. “Thank you, Bayard. Your bravery won’t go untold.”

  “Save Roland and find the gems. Be safe, Princess,” Bayard whispered, readying himself with steely eyes. He leaned over and pinched my chin. He drew my face to his and planted a firm kiss to my lips, which was so confusing, I nearly spat out the kiss on instinct.

  It all felt so very wrong. I didn’t know how to solve the problem, so I decided to take my chance with revealing myself and reasoning with the gigantic monster. At my first movement away from them, Draper dragged me to his front and held me tight in his arms, covering my mouth with strength that almost felt threatening. He was a sweet, mushy love muffin up until that point in my mind. My arms were pinned to my sides by his crushing grip, and hi
s hand over my mouth was unyielding. His words came out through gritted teeth. “Don’t even think about it. I won’t get you back and have you die in the same week.”

  For all the bruising nature of his hold on me, I saw the love that drove the force. My fingers were free to roam, so I stroked the leg of his jeans with my thumb. I wanted to soothe the ache that being left alone in Avalon had bored through his soul. I went limp, doing my best to show that I wouldn’t leave him. The arm that banded around my ribs began to loosen, his hand brushing up and down on my arm to convince me that he wasn’t really a brutal man, just a desperate one.

  My heart stuttered when Bayard moved out from our hiding place, revealing himself to the Gévaudan. He stalked steadily forward and to the right of us to lead the beast away from where we stood, huddled. Bayard drew his sword, looking fierce through his fear as he faced his certain death. His center of gravity lowered, and his signature sneer stretched across his lips under his facial hair. “Come and get me, you hairy beast!” he growled like a true badass. I could see decades of muscle earned defending his province culminating in the fight that I prayed wouldn’t be his last.

  The Gévaudan didn’t need the invitation. She stalked steadily closer, snorting out words like “die” and “pay for this.” I picked up my struggle against Draper’s tight hold on my body, not ready to let someone go to the mat for me. I might’ve been able to shake Draper off if my mind wasn’t so thoroughly blown by the monstrous size of the Gévaudan.

  I was expecting a swift death. I was expecting Bayard to last the span of a single sentence before the monster tore him clean in half. What I was not expecting was for the Gévaudan to cry out in pain before the fight even began.

  Blood flowed from her hamstring on her left leg, and she howled through the agony. My head whipped around to figure out how Bayard had managed to cut her from the way other side of things. He hadn’t strategically thrown any kind of sharp weapon that hooked around like a boomerang. The Gévaudan had the same “what the flip?” face that I did, and she turned around to see who it was she would be mauling next.