by Tiya Rayne
“Nothing. They are just making room.”
I stand up straight, rubbing the soreness out of my ribs.
“Maybe you are getting close to delivery. Those bastards will be out of your womb and your blood will be so much more potent.”
The gleeful look on her face scares me. I know that she is ready for the babies to be born. It isn’t because she is excited to meet them, but more so because the babies dilute my blood. I fear for my twins’ life. I know that Medina needs me for her magic, but she doesn’t need the babies. I do not know what she plans to do with them. And that worries me.
After an hour hike through the humid woods, I finally reach the river in the forest where the black moss grows. I flop down on my bottom by the river’s edge dipping my hands into the cold water to take a sip. The water works to cool my overheated body. I watch as Plinket flies off over my head. The hideous creature is rarely in his human—and I use the word human loosely—form. He prefers one of his animal shapes, either a black wolf, a black bird, or a black snake. I notice that he is always watching me, those red beady eyes following me. It freaks me out. Plinket swoops down to the ground and transforms into his wolf form. He snarls at me and I roll my eyes at him.
“Do not rush me, beast.”
He does this all the time. If I delay any from the plans Medina has for me, he growls until I obey him. Today I refuse to be rushed. He growls low again and I take some of the water and splash it at him. He lets out a yelp and runs from the droplets.
I laugh.
“Serves you right.”
I scoop up more water and toss it at him. Plinket growls again and rushes off, most likely going to hunt for food. I’m thankful for the few minutes of alone time. I remove the shoes from my feet, lift my dress and place my swollen feet in the cold water. I lean back on my hands and stare up at the sky.
I have many things to concern me. The safety of my babies being the most important, but I never bring my troubles here. I find solace in the woods. Although the trips to harvest the black moss is tiresome, I always find the most comfort when I am here. I get so few moments of peace that I never take advantage of it. For a moment, I get the fleeting thought that I have always found the woods to be soothing. Even as a young child. I shake my head at the wayward thought. I can’t remember anything about my childhood, no need to make things up.
I stand to my sore feet to start collecting the horrible itchy moss before Plinket comes back. Just as I get settled into the thorny needle like bushes, I hear the sound of an animal’s cry. At first I thought it was Plinket. If he was in trouble; well good riddance, but the cry was a higher pitch than his. I climb back out of the bushes, the thorns tugging at my strands of hair, and listen for the sound again.
I hear it coming from further through the forest. Curiosity gets the better of me and I go looking for the owner of the noise.
As I get closer to the animal’s cry, I notice it sounds more like a dog’s whine. I get the sense of déjà vu. The feeling is so acute I can almost pinpoint the exact moment this one mimics. A black dog coming to a little girl’s rescue to battle a raccoon. I knew there was something off about the raccoon because it was daytime and it came out of nowhere to attack me. The black dog leaps in the way and took a few serious bites and scratches before taking the raccoon out. I remember the dogs whine from that day as the little girl carried it back to her trailer. Later, as the dog became so overcome with rabies my uncle…. Once again I was hit with a memory that was sharp and crisp. I could feel the breeze in the air on the day the dog was attacked, and the thick fur that tickled my skin as I carried him in my arms. Then the memory seems to simmer and fall away. Still, the tug of the dog’s cry and that brief glimpse of a memory keeps me moving forward. The closer I get I notice two female voices join the animal’s. I stay hidden behind the trees as I approach the scene where the voices are.
“I saw it first, Winifred.” One of the female voices says.
Standing in a small clearing is two teenage girls with hair the color of flaxseed. Trapped under metal netting is a small silver fox.
So it isn’t a dog.
The fox is peculiar. Its fur is a white-silver color where it would usually be burnt orange. Its ears, feet, and tail are a darker ash gray and it’s under belly pure white. I have a feeling that this fox’s color would be rare even if my memory wasn’t completely screwed up. The fox cries out again as it fights against the metal chains that lay on top of him.
“I am the eldest, Elmira. I am in more need of a Familiar than you.” the taller of the two girls argue.
I’ve learned, inadvertently from Medina, that only witches have use of Familiars. Also, Familiars once populated this part of the forest heavily. Over use and not enough reproducing has dwindled their numbers to almost extinction. Now it is hard for a witch to find a Familiar that isn’t already attached.
I guess these two are lucky.
Since I do not care for neither breeds, I turn away from the drama unfolding in front of me. Witches and Familiars are an evil bunch and they deserve each other. It isn’t until I hear the beast cry out again that I pause in my retreat. Not because of him, but because of that scrawny black dog. I feel a sudden ache in my chest, like an open wound that still bleeds after a long time. There is something about that black dog that draws me. It is if there was a connection between the two of us so strong that he was almost like family to me. It is because of him that I find myself turning back to the fox. When I do, I find the fox’s red eyes on me. I’ve seen Plinket’s eyes many times and all I find behind the bleeding irises is hatred and evilness. Nothing in his eyes insinuates he has any redeemable trait. Yet, with this creature I find fear and sadness. I do not see the hateful beast that growls at me and smirks whenever Medina abuses me. I don’t see the evil that I see in Plinket’s eyes. It leads me to believe that maybe there is still hope for this Familiar.
Guess I need to save it.
I look around at my feet for a weapon. I won’t be able to take on these witches in my condition. A few steps away I find palm size rocks at the base of a tree. Maybe I could throw them hard enough to knock the girls out. I gather a few of the rocks and tuck them into the hem of my dress to carry. I rush back to the tree closes to the silver furred fox. Its eyes never leave mine as it watches my every movement.
“Oh will you hush, Elmira. Before either of us can claim him we must first cut out its heart. Now, where is my blade?” The tall witch turns her back to me and searches through the foliage on the ground for her blade.
Part of the ritual of controlling a Familiar is cutting out its heart—something else I learned by accident from Medina.
With all my strength I toss the rock and aim for her head hoping only one blow is all it takes. The rock barely brushes her shoulder as it falls to the ground. Even the Familiar seems to roll its eyes at my weak throw.
Well that sucked.
The tall witch turns around and glares at her sister.
“Did you just strike me, Elmira?”
Elmira, oblivious to what just happened, replies. “Of course not.”
Winifred narrows her eyes at her sister before turning back around to search for her blade.
An idea forms in my mind. Clearly I am not strong enough to knock anyone out, but I can use the sisters bickering against them. I toss another rock at Winifred that hits her in the back of the head with a little more force.
“Ow!” She yelps grabbing the spot the rock hit with one hand.
This time she doesn’t question her sister. She turns around and smacks her sister clear across the face. Elmira, shocked at her sister’s actions, places a hand to her cheek and glares at Winifred.
“You struck me.”
“You struck me fir…..” Before Winifred could declare her case Elmira pushes her to the ground.
At that point a full on fight breaks out. For a second I watch the two girls roll around the ground pulling and tugging at each other’s hair. I snap out of it and use their
distraction to rush to the Familiar and pull the heavy chains from over it. The moment it is free it runs off through the woods. Suddenly, I feel a hand in my hair and a tug on the strains as someone pulls me to my feet.
“What do you think you’re doing?” the one I now know as Winifred shouts. “You let him go, you stupid girl.” Her grip on my hair is so tight, I place my hand over hers to try to lessen the tension.
“Let’s kill her, sister.” Elmira says gleefully behind me.
I’m shoved to the ground and only barely able to land on my hands and knees before smashing into my swollen belly.
“Get up and turn around, girl.”
This is what I get for trying to help someone. Now I will likely die at the hands of these two nasty witches. I climb to my feet, but before I can turn to face her, a silver blur runs pass me. I turn just in time to see the silver fox rip into the sisters at a remarkable speed. Its teeth sink into the arm of one of the sisters ripping at the flesh. It releases her and then attacks the leg of the other sister. After narrowly managing to get away, both girls retreat and rush off into the woods. The little Familiar stands in front of me growling and snarling at their backs. Meanwhile, I stand there with my hand over my belly, just watching it. When it realizes the girls are gone, the fox turns back to me with its ears relaxed.
It circles me slowly, seeming to size me up. I follow the silver fox with my head. Keeping it in my sight. If it decided to attack there wasn’t much I could do to stop it. However, it did not look as if it wanted to attack me. Instead, it sits back on its hind legs staring at me as if it was waiting for me to do a trick.
“Well, go on.” I say, shooing it towards the trees. “You’re free now.”
Its red eyes stand out in stark contrast to the silver fur. It tilts its head to the side like a bird to study me further. When it doesn’t seem to want to run away, I turn away from it and try to head back to my black moss. Immediately, the Familiar jumps in front of me and yelps one time at me.
“Are you seriously trying to boss me around?”
Apparently all Familiars are bossy.
I place my hand on my hips. Again we just stare at each other, until I try to go around it again. The fox dives at my feet again stopping me. Finding this game annoying, I glare down at the little fox.
“Look, fortunately for you, you will not have to go home with those evil witches. However, I happen to belong to a witch that makes your little captors look like angels. So move out of my way so I can get back to my personal hell.”
This time the fox does something even more strangely, it smiles. Its mouth opens up and its eyes squint. Its tongue falls lazily out the side of its open mouth. It honestly looks like it is smiling. It then rolls onto its back with the white belly exposed. The universal sign for a belly rub. Again I get a flash of a memory of that black dog. Maybe that is what causes me to lower myself to my knees beside this animal and rub its stomach. I could never see myself touching Plinket involuntarily. Yet I’m finding this creature to be slightly pleasant. As soon as I think that, the beast lunges at me and sinks its teeth into my hand.
“Ow!” I shout shooting to my feet.
I glare at the fox as it backs away with its head down and its tail between it legs.
“Serves you right. You should be ashamed.”
That’s what I get for trusting Familiars. I look down at my hand expecting to see blood and broken flesh. What I find is just a small circle on the back of my hand with a line down the middle of it. It burns hot for a moment and then it fades away. Now that I think about it, the bite wasn’t as painful as an animal bite should be. It felt more like a bee sting. I look back up at the Familiar and it’s just watching me curiously again.
“What did you do to me?” I ask the animal.
Just then I hear the familiar growl of Plinket coming towards us. The silver fox’s and my head both turn to the sound.
“Quick,” I say, turning to the animal. “You better get out of here.” With only a second of hesitation the fox shoots through the trees out of sight. It leaves just in time as Plinket runs through the clearing and glares at me. He’s in his large wolf form now. His ears pointing towards me and his teeth bared.
He’s angry.
“I thought I heard a noise. I…. was just checking it out.” Was my reason for being here instead of with the black moss.
Plinket eyes me suspiciously. His eyes dart from me to the woods behind me. For a moment I fear that he can see the silver fox. I have no reason to protect the other Familiar, but I still do not want Plinket to hurt it. Instead of running towards the woods where the fox went, Plinket turns and walks off. With an exhale of relief I move to follow Plinket when something catches my eye. Up in the trees, over my head a small bird perches. It looks like a song sparrow, but its feathers are the exact same color as the fox. The bird’s beady red eyes stare right back at me and I know without a doubt it is the same little Familiar. I hear Plinket’s warning growl for me to follow him. Before I go, I send a silent message to the silver bird in the trees.
“Enjoy your freedom, my friend. It is a valuable possession.” I think to the bird as I follow Plinket back to the task of gathering the black moss.
My distractions causes me to not meet my quota of black moss for today, which means Medina will be angry. In return, she will likely beat me and send me back out to finish the job tomorrow. Another day of gathering the awful stuff.
I place my shears, basket, and flat scraping tool back in the storage house and leave them there as I go to the cottage. My skin itches so bad that I have nearly scratched it raw, and not to mention my bleeding scratches from the thorns. I am exhausted and starving. I didn’t have time to search for food while out today.
I open the door to the cottage and I’m met by a tall gloomy man. I come to a sudden halt as my eyes meet his. Just as the silver fox in the woods eyes had shown me its character, this man’s eyes shows me his. It was not good.
“Come on in, Girl, and get my dinner started. You wasted too much time in that forest.”
Even though it was Medina’s words that directed me, I could not take my attention away from the man. He has a gaunt face that is long and narrow. His eyes are dark with thick scraggily brows that sit low over his eyes. His shoulders are high and nearly touch his earlobes. His long fingers sit folded over his knee. He has a hook nose that reminds me of a bird’s beak. Although he hasn’t said one word to me, he frightens me. It isn’t his bird like appearance and dark menacing eyes that send chills down my spine. It is what his eyes stares at with such desire.
My pregnant belly. From the moment I walked in his eyes has followed my stomach. Even now as I make my way to the pantry to gather vegetables for Medina’s stew his eyes watch my belly.
“This is amazing.” The man’s voice is laced with adoration and laughter as he looks from me to Medina. “The entire Locke is looking for the chosen and all this time…”
“Yes!” Medina replies with smug pride.
“How?”
“It is good to have eyes in the sky.” Medina nods to Plinket. “…and the most powerful memory spell ever.” She tosses her long tresses over her shoulder preening like a peacock.
I watch as the intensity in the stranger’s eyes goes from harmless curiosity to deadly envy. He quickly tries to cover up his intent with a smile.
One of the things I’ve learned about being a slave, is that people take your insignificance as a sign of you being deaf or dumb. Because Medina thinks so little of me, she forgets that I am actually a person and not an inanimate object. She speaks more freely around me than she should. It’s because of this I learned so much about Familiars. It is also how I learned that witches and warlocks are competitive. They crave magic like others crave money. The more magic spells one has the higher ranked they are. That’s how I knew that look in the strangers eyes was a warning.
“You must tell me more about this spell.” The stranger was almost drooling at the mouth for the spell.
All this talk of a memory spell made me question if Medina is the cause of those slippery images in my head. Maybe it is a memory spell that causes those rare flashes where I feel like I’m missing something. Maybe there is more to me than just a slave girl. My hand slips as I’m carrying a pan of freshly washed corn and it clatters to the floor with a loud crashing sound. I quickly bend to pick it up and clean up the mess.
“Stupid girl!” Medina shouts. “Useless.”
I don’t let her words faze me. My mind clouds with the thought that maybe those visions, or memories, are actually real. Somewhere out there I have a family and a black dog that loves me and misses me.
After gathering the corn back into the pot I stand. The strangers eyes are back on me, this time it is not the twins he watches.
“Tell me more about this spell.” His eyes never waver from me.
With a boastful voice, Medina explains. “It is brilliant really. So powerful that not only do you forget who you are, you forget everything about yourself. Making the wearer a docile slave. And the longer the cuffs remain, the more permanent the damage.”
The stranger’s dark menacing eyes cut back over to Medina. “Do you mean….. her memory will be gone forever?”
The smile that lights up Medina’s face is so smug and proud that I have to turn my head from it. The urge to punch it off her face makes my hands shake. The more I think about her messing with my memories the angrier I get.
“The spell is fool-proof.”
The low throaty laugh from the stranger is grating against my senses, like nails on a chalk board.
“This info changes things. Why should I settle for the kings when I can have the chosen?” The stranger asks. His dark eyes narrow at Medina.
He tries to make his words sound as if it is a carefree joke, but the real threat is loud and clear. I can feel the moment when the mood changes from light banter amongst friends to something else. The room seems to grow smaller, the tension heavy.
Medina picks up the cup of tea in front of her, leans back in her seat, and takes a slow calculating sip as she studies the stranger.
