The Hallowed Hunt

by Yasmine Galenorn

  The trail was distinct—there was no chance of losing track of it, and I slowly began making my way along the compacted dirt path. Eyes peeked from the forest, the reds and yellows gleaming in the night, and I held my breath, hoping they were friendly, whatever they were.

  “Stop,” a voice in my head told me. “You haven’t done your preparation.”

  I froze, wondering what I had forgotten.

  “Breathe.” The word echoed in my thoughts and I realized that by holding my breath, I was running on fear. I slowly let out my breath and focused on trying to relax. Whatever shadows waited in this woodland, would be best met if I was alert but calm. I shook out my shoulders and began moving forward again.

  Before long, my stomach rumbled and I remembered I was thirsty. I glanced around for a place to sit, and found a fallen log near the side of the trail. Cautiously, I lowered myself to the tree trunk and shrugged off my pack. As I opened it, a beam of moonlight shimmered down to reveal the contents.

  Herne had packed a half-dozen sandwiches for me, and there were cookies, an apple, some toilet paper, a small first-aid kit, a microfiber blanket rolled up tight, some matches in a plastic box, and several water bottles.

  “How long does he expect me to be out here?” I muttered, unwrapping a sandwich at random and biting into it. The flavor of roast beef hit my tongue, and my stomach rumbled to attention. I devoured the sandwich, along with several cookies, and then cracked open a water bottle and drank half of the contents. The food helped ground me, and I yawned. Even though I had done nothing all day, I still felt weary. I thought about unrolling the blanket to use as a poncho, but I didn’t want to delay the ritual any longer, so I left it in the pack and fastened the buckles again.

  As I stood, my knees cracked, and I stretched out my arms, yawning. The oxygen quickened my blood, and I picked up the crossbow. A glance at the sky revealed a panorama of stars. I paused, squinting.

  To the north—I wasn’t sure how I knew the direction, but my instinct said it was north so I trusted myself—there was a faint outline in the sky of a silver castle, centered in a wheel of stars. Something about the sight chilled me to the core. There was an air of power to the castle, as though whoever lived there could reach down out of the heavens and scoop me up, carrying me off into the depths of space.

  I slowly pulled my gaze away. The feeling of being watched had increased.

  Taking a deep breath, I turned back to the trail and began walking. I wasn’t sure how fast time passed here. Annwn wasn’t the same as home; things worked differently. As I continued along, I could hear rustles in the bushes, the sounds of huffing and low growls. I had to stop several times to calm my breathing.

  Finally, I stood in the center of the path, closing my eyes. As I lowered my consciousness into trance, I began to feel the buzz and crackle of the forest.

  Like all woodlands, the forests of Annwn were alive. The forest had a sentience to it, created by the sum of all its inhabitants, both flora and fauna. I tried to key in on the central hub—the core of the forest—to understand its energy. I dug through the layers, slowly prying away the barriers of briar and thorn, edging my way toward the center. After a while, I felt the resistance give way and there it was…the heart of the forest, bathed in shades of deep hunter green and vibrant streaks of both gold and rust.

  “Hello,” I whispered, and to my surprise, the forest whispered back.

  Welcome. But the welcome wasn’t totally clear—there were hidden threads attached, snares for the unwary and the unwise, and dark secrets hiding behind the leaves and branches that watched over the land.

  I dug deeper, burrowing like a worm to the core of the apple.

  The sound of water in the distance caught my attention, the flowing of rivers into ponds and lakes, and beyond that, the faint rush of ocean waves crashing against the shore. From another direction, winter lurked, creeping forward, quietly absorbing the land. And yet, in another direction, I could feel the melancholy fires of autumn, crackling at the edges. Beyond that, a whispered hope of spring caressed the breezes. All of these belonged to the forests of Annwn, all in their time and place.

  Another layer lower and I could hear the rustle of bobcats and lynx as they padded along through the treetops, and a red fox who darted through the trees. Overhead, the screech of an owl echoed through the forest, and behind that, the cawing of crows. A wolf howled from a distant mountain, and the moon shook and the forest reverberated, echoing the howl back to the alpha.

  Still lower into trance, I felt the snuffling of skunk, and the slither of an adder moving smoothly through the undergrowth. The ferns whispered as it passed by, and the bracken and ivy picked up the chorus, magnifying it so that all who walked the trails of the woodland might know that danger lurked in the darker corners.

  As I slowly merged into the feeling, a heady intoxication began to take hold, and I leaned my head back, laughing for the sheer joy of understanding the language of the land. I opened my eyes and began to stride ahead, ready for whatever lie in my path.

  I rounded a bend in the trail and paused. The trail ahead ended in a Y-fork. I could go either left or right. Pausing, I started to think through which way I should take, but Herne’s words echoed in my ears.

  Listen to your intuition. Let your instinct guide you. Don’t try to think your way through this.

  I let out my breath and closed my eyes, asking, “Which way?”

  “Left,” my gut replied, and so I turned onto the left fork and before I could hesitate, headed off to the side.

  The trail began to descend and to my left, the embankment fell away into a deep ravine. I could hear water coming from below. Pushed from some inner urge, I sped up, jogging along with only the moon’s light to guide me. The trail kept curving as the embankment to the right grew higher beside me. I was headed downhill.

  The scent of water flooded my nostrils and I could feel the elementals nearby. They were playing, and joyful, and I wanted to join them. I hastened my pace, sure on my feet, until I came around a final bend to the left and out onto a wide shoreline. I was facing what seemed to be an ocean, with the water dark as pitch and cresting waves, splashing seafoam against the rocky beach.

  I slowed to a walk, stepping out to greet the water. In the waves, I could see elementals rising up to play catch with massive driftwood logs. I watched them for a moment, marveling in their strength, then began walking along the shore. Up ahead was a figure, and I felt compelled to see who it was. I followed the shoreline, the water’s spray misting over me, until I came to a man sitting on a log. He was staring out at the water, and I could feel the sadness that floated around him, cloaking him like a blanket.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “I’ve lost my fire,” he whispered.

  As I stood there, wondering what to say, I could feel hunger rising up, only it wasn’t for food. It was for him, for his energy. I blinked, trying to force the insatiable need back, but it broke loose, flooding over me, and I strode forward, dropping the crossbow in the sand as I pushed him back off the log onto the sand and straddled him.

  “Want me,” I whispered, holding his gaze with mine. “Long for me.”

  He blinked, staring into my eyes like a drowning man spying a glass of water. “Muse…beautiful muse…”

  “Need me.” I was quickly losing my senses in the spiral of lust and hunger that rushed through me. “Beg for me.”

  As though in a trance, he nodded. “Please…I’ve been so lost.”

  I leaned down and ripped open his shirt, licking his chest. And it was a fine chest. He was a gorgeous hunk of pining, aching manhood, desperate for a spark to light his muse, and I was the fire. The torch that could bring him back to life. But there was a price, and that price would be his soul. I would feed him and nurture him, and then, when he was ripe and healthy, I would feed.

  “Wait. Who are you?” A flicker of fear crept into his eyes as I bared my teeth, snarling.

  “I’m your muse.
I’m your passion. I’m your everything.” I tilted my head, and from the back of my mind, I flashed back to the Vulture Sisters. They were soul eaters like me. They hunted like I did, and they gave no mercy to their quarry.

  “Don’t hurt me,” the man whispered, licking his lips. I could feel his arousal through his pants, but his desire was mingled with fear, and the fear only stoked my hunger.

  A crash of waves splashed over us, soaking us through. I laughed, shaking my hair as the water strengthened me. But as I glanced up at the embankment, in the distance I caught sight of a glimpse of silver. A stag was watching me from above, and something about it seemed familiar. I tried to pinpoint what it could be, both irritated and oddly relieved that it had interrupted my feeding cycle. As I stared at the creature, it reared, and its bellowing echoed all the way down to the shore.

  “Herne,” I whispered, and a shudder ran through me as I looked down at the man below me. He was half-drowned from the waves, and he was staring at me, terrified and yet longing. He would hand himself over to me if I forced him.

  “No…no…” My thoughts broke through the wall of hunger and I rolled off of him, coming up to one knee, forcing the hunger to retreat. “No. I can control this.”

  At that moment, I glanced up to see a mirror image of myself running toward me. She was eyeing the man on the ground and I could read her thoughts. She was going to drain him dry. I leapt up, jumping in front of him, my arms wide as she came at me.

  “If you won’t feed, then let me.”

  “No. I don’t need to feed and neither do you. Back off.” I gave her a shove, pushing her back.

  “You stupid bitch. You never know where your next meal’s coming from. Get out of my way.” She launched herself at me.

  I grappled her to the ground, turning to glance at the man. “Run! Get out of here.”

  He scrambled up, racing along the shore as I wrestled with my twin. She was as strong as me, but she was fighting out of desperation and hunger, and I had self-control on my side. She lashed out, scoring my face with her nails. I grabbed her hand, feeling the blood pour down my cheek, and managed to get hold of her other wrist as well. I pressed her arms back over her head as she struggled below me.

  “I can’t let you go, can I? I can’t just send you away.”

  I stared down at her, suddenly realizing what I had to do. She would haunt me forever unless I took her inside of me. We had met before, and I had embraced her powers. But now I had to embrace her shadows as well, because I could control them if I accepted them as part of myself. I didn’t want to—I didn’t like this side, the grasping, cunning, nature of the Leannan Sidhe, but once I had opened my heart to her, I’d be able to manage her.

  I leaned down, staring at her. “I don’t want to hurt you. But you can’t run wild.”

  “But I am wild—how can you lock up a tiger?”

  “You can’t, but you can learn to work with them instead of against them.”

  Leaning down, I pressed my lips to hers and began drawing her breath into me. I could feel the stream of her life ebbing, even as a glorious sense of well-being sent me reeling like a bottle of fine brandy. She tasted of sex and passion, of power and control, of creative energy unfettered, and of the heady dance of blood flowing through veins.

  As I drained the life out of her, she continued to struggle, but then I opened my heart to her, welcoming her in, and she began to quiet down. A moment later and her body was still, devoid of breath. I stumbled to the side, panting as I struggled to stand up. I turned toward the ocean, tears streaking down my cheeks. I didn’t know why I was crying—she had been wild and feral and untamed and dangerous.

  That’s why you cry, fluttered through my thoughts. You tamed the untamed spirit…and there’s always sorrow in that.

  Mourning, I reached down and arranged her arms to cross over her chest. Then, picking up my crossbow, I turned to the ocean. A massive wave was rolling in, so huge that I knew it would swallow the beach. I took a step back, then turned to race back to the trail. I scrambled up to a safe height, then turned back just in time to see the wave cover the body, along with the rest of the sand, and when it withdrew, it took her with it out to sea, home to the ocean forever.

  The path led up again, away from the shore. I paused, feeling hungry again—not for energy, though I could feel my Leannan Sidhe blood churning, interweaving with my own. I didn’t feel remorse like I had with my grandfather, or guilt, but I could feel a sense of cunning and stealth creeping into the corners, seeking its new home.

  I felt stronger in spirit, and when I closed my eyes, I could see how to call up the ability to drain the life out of someone. But it was limited—I wasn’t sure just how, but the urge to feed wasn’t as free as it had been at first.

  My head suddenly began to hurt and my stomach rumbled. I sat down on the side of the path and pulled out another sandwich and the rest of the cookies. I drained another bottle of water as I ate, and then, finished, crept behind a bush to pee. After rinsing my hands with the remains of the first water bottle, I zipped up my jeans and started out again.

  The stars overhead were whirling, and I could still see the silver castle high in the air, looming over the land. There was a strong sense of familiarity about it, but I couldn’t pinpoint why. I returned my gaze to the path and, as I broke through a patch of ferns overgrowing the trail, I found myself back on the main trail.

  I began to walk faster now that I was on level ground. I had fallen in tune with the forest, and soon I found myself moving at a blur through the thicket. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to hurry, but I did, and so I jogged steadily along until I came to another fork in the road. Only this time, the trail continued straight.

  I considered the three paths, shaking away my conscious thoughts.

  “Which way?” I closed my eyes, listening as the wind raced past. It motioned me to the right. I started to question myself, but pushed it aside.

  Go on instinct. Don’t question yourself.

  I turned to the right, expecting another descent, but this time the path stayed level. I slowed my pace. The forest felt different here, and there were no sounds of water save for raindrops dripping off the boughs. The night was clear, but it had rained here recently. The ground was muddy, but the mud was covered with a layer of autumn leaves.

  As I crept along, the feeling of being watched intensified yet again. Acting on instinct, I reached back to the quiver, catching hold of a bolt that I fit into the crossbow. Keeping my finger off the trigger, I held it ready as I began to zigzag along the path, certain a glowing target was emblazoned on my back.

  Crap. I’m being hunted.

  A snarl rose up in my throat. Nobody hunted me.

  I slowed, eyeing the sides of the path. I could feel it…right…there…over behind one of the giant cedars to my right. Something was watching me from behind the tree. Ducking into the woods on my left, I vanished behind a stand of fir.

  There, I found an oak that had the perfect setup of boughs. I sprang up to catch the lowest and pulled myself up, swinging to loop my feet over the branch.

  As I pivoted, crawling toward the trunk, I stood, gazing up at the tangle of limbs. More quickly than I thought possible, I began to climb, leveraging myself two-thirds of the way up the trunk. From there, I found a branch that led over the path.

  The branch was about five inches in diameter and sturdy.

  I crouched on the branch and slowly began to move forward, creeping along, somehow managing to keep my balance as I crossed over the path to the other side. Grabbing a branch from the cedar on the other side, I swung myself onto the tree, cautiously making my way through the tangle, brushing my way through massive spider webs.

  I paused, stretching out on the limb to stare down into the gloom.

  And there he was.

  He was Fae, that much I could tell, and he was carrying a bow. He was craning his neck, looking toward the path.

  Oh no, I thought. You don’t get off that ea
sy.

  I was about to jump down but then froze. There was another one, a little farther back in the trees. How many were there in this hunting party?

  I propped back against the trunk and closed my eyes, conjuring the spirit of the forest again. I needed eyes. I needed to see. I sought the crows but they were all asleep. Well, I’d have to pick somebody else. I sought for another spirit, and found that of a white fox, hiding in a burrow.

  I need your help.

  My thoughts seemed to take the shape of an arrow and I aimed them toward the fox, then let go. They sprang forward and suddenly, the fox awoke and stood, shaking its head.

  What do you want, milady?

  Ah, so you are a forest spirit and not just a fox.

  As you guessed, yes, I am.

  I need you to tell me how many hunters are in the forest below me.

  The fox paused, then I felt it grin. I am kitsune. What will you offer in exchange for my help?

  I thought for a moment. Are you hungry? I have a sandwich.

  Two. And a promise to never harm my kind unnecessarily. My fox brothers.

  I thought for a moment. The sandwiches were no problem, but I had to think over the other demand, for I knew any vow I took this night would be binding.

  As long as I don’t have to—as long as they aren’t hurting others or attacking me, I can give you that promise. I’ll never hunt your fox brothers without good reason, and never in greed or hunger for their fur.

  Then I accept. Wait.

  I waited, staying as still as I could so I didn’t make any noise. It felt like an eternity passed, during which time I had to keep from shouting as a massive orb weaver crawled across my face, then scuttled off onto the tree. Finally, though, the kitsune returned.