Like massive black birds of prey.
They were probably eagles or vultures, but something about their shape made my heart skip a beat, though it was hard to tell whether it had been from fear or excitement. I stopped and scanned the foliage around us, trying to see the birds again. I turned off the Ticonderoga Trail, leading us in a different direction, following the creatures that I had seen.
Something lived in these wooded hills, I was certain of it.
And I needed to find out what.
I hadn’t truly put it all together yet, hadn’t realized how desperately I was hoping that something waited for me in this pine and cedar wilderness.
Something important. Something legendary.
Something that would finally help me break through my writer’s block.
I paused on the trail. Was I being foolish? If so, it wouldn’t be the first time. Sure, I wrote about magic, but that didn’t mean it was real or that I could capture it in a jar and paint it on the page.
That was when I noticed that the trails were now shrouded in darkness. None of the paths on this side of the mountain were well marked and several veered off into shadows that never brightened, even in the middle of the day.
It might not be that easy to find our way back.
That was when Samwise pushed past me, and with a bark, the dog bounded up the path.
“Hey!” I called out to him, suddenly knowing where we were—on the Ponderosa Trail. This was exactly where I had been before, as a child. I rubbed my temples, trying to remember. I had seen something in the woods on that day, someone peering at me from behind a thicket of trees, eyes that had looked familiar. I had fallen asleep and had a strange dream, one I was never able to forget or fully remember. “Come back.”
The dog stopped and looked at me.
We had made our way deep into the timber. I caught glimpses of sky between the trunks and I could hear the falls now, so close it was almost deafening. The path curved up ahead, then seemed to pitch off the face of the earth. There was no way to know what waited around the bend. Still, somehow I knew what might be there—a shadow-dappled plateau, trimmed with wild grasses and flowers.
For the first time a shiver ran up my back. There was something in the plateau, something dangerous. I knew it. We had to turn back. Now.
“Come back!” I shouted again to the dog, but he wasn’t listening. “Sam!” Apparently the dog couldn’t hear me over the rushing waterfall.
“I’ll go get him,” Tucker said, but I grabbed him by the collar before he could launch away from me.
“No, stay here!”
Then the old memories grew stronger, took on flesh and bone and walked through my mind. Creatures with dark skin and broad wings, shifting from one shape to another—it had all been a dream, I was certain of it, or a nightmare. Still, at this moment, it felt so real that I drew one arm about Tucker’s shoulders and together we started to back away from the ridge and the bright setting sun. He strained at my grip, eager to get the dog.
Just then the wind picked up; it circled through the trees in a low moan, black branches scratching lavender sky. Beneath it all I sensed something different, almost unearthly.
The dog spun in a circle, barking and snarling, as if he had cornered something that now flew through the trees, a fluttering dark shape.
I stumbled and caught myself, pulled Tucker even closer.
I could see it then—the thing that I had dreamed about—with great black wings spread wide and a long body with fierce talons. Thick muscles spread across its chest and it swooped between the trees at a furious speed, as if hunting. Then it paused to glance down at the dog.
There was a gut-wrenching moment when I thought it might attack. And I knew instantly that Samwise would lose the battle.
Chapter 7
Dark and Deep
Ash:
Something sizzled through the sky at that moment, a warning cry. Just as the three of us paced the widow’s walk, keeping to the shadows, my sister chattering away and I marking the steady movement of the moon through the heavens. We all knew that the Hunt would be here soon and we were waiting, eagerly.
But just then—when there was a pause in our conversation, when my sister’s gown stirred in the breeze, carrying the fragrance of home, bringing a myriad of memories that I would rather forget—the scream of a human echoed from the forest.
The sound vibrated and shredded, bit and clawed; it circled through the air and shook me to my senses. No matter how hard I tried, I could not ignore it, for it was my duty to protect this land and the inhabitants.
Yet, as horrid as the cry was, the sound that followed was even worse.
Silence, dark and deep, rushed through the forest like an underground river.
My human guise melted away, my wings unfurled wide and ready for flight.
Somewhere nearby, somewhere deep in the woods, life was being drained from a human, dream by dream, until soon there would be nothing left. No hope. No future.