Chapter Sixteen
“Slow-ly, slow-ly,” Onora’s outstretched arm guided me.
I sat on top of the black stallion whose magically-drenched hair dripped every second. We stepped through the door and into the Chapel.
Onora held up her arthritic hand. “Stop!”
I willed the horse to stop with my thoughts. It took me a while just to make the connection with it outside, but I quickly became accustomed to the prickly sensation that invaded my mind while I rode the enormous creature.
The horse with a mane like seaweed waited patiently as I slid down to the ground. Thick rivulets of water ran down its chest and forelegs.
All of the cushions of the High Sidhe were now absent from the meeting hall, and the room was only occupied by me, Onora, the horse, and a few Ellylons who flitted around dusting corners.
The other High Sidhe left after Tallulah gave the news about my shifting abilities and dumped me in my old mentor’s hands.
“This will do just fine.” Onora carefully turned about the room, inspecting the walls and ceilings. “Now.” she turned back to us and clapped her hands together. “We need to get the two of you better acquainted.” She looked back and forth between me and the horse.
“Acquainted?” How could I become friendly with an animal? How would that one-sided conversation go? I felt our minds connect when the beast and I were physically touching, but the link ended there.
“Yes, Morgan. How else will you ever work together? Now, Hector, do you think you’re ready as well?” Onora stared at the red-eyed horse like she expected a response.
Suddenly the horse’s dripping mane sprouted a slight fountain between its ears. I gasped, taking a step away as the water trailed down the horse’s shoulders and absorbed into the floor, not even leaving a puddle. The water started gushing from the top of its head, but Onora stood smiling, watching with her arms folded.
“Aren’t you going to do anything?” I shouted, pointing at the black stallion, certain that the horse would drown in the deluge.
Onora shrugged and kept watching the spectacle like a child at a fireworks show. The ground began to rumble. The water erupted into torrents, covering the horse’s black hide with frothing white falls until all that could be seen of him were the top-most strands of hair peaking above the bubbling spring.
I leapt away from the water that now pooled around my feet, staring in amazement at the horse. I looked to Onora for an explanation. But she waited, her hands patiently folded in front of her as before.
Slowly the flow of water subsided and revealed a man standing where the horse once stood. His slicked black hair stood above his high, distinguished forehead, and his Grecian nose was framed by solid red eyes.
Onora embraced the black-cloaked man, chuckling as he kissed her on each cheek. “Hector! How good it is to see you after all these years. You look just like how I remember you!”
Hector smiled and then gracefully turned to me. “Hello, young one. I’m so glad we are finally able to meet properly.”
I half-expected him to kiss me on both cheeks, but instead he simply held out his hand in greeting.
I stared from his hand to the top of his head, sure that there would be another fountain sprouting at any moment or that his hand would turn back into a hoof.
He looked at his hand as though dejected and shook his head. I was too stunned to really say or do anything but stand there.
“Am I not what you expect?” He held his arms out to either side of his body to better display his form, turned a full circle, and smiled at me.
Hector was a tall, robust man who appeared in his mid-thirties, but I knew that what seemed to be was not always reality in my world.
I eyed him suspiciously. “But you were a horse.” I thought about it more. The ride from the field, the prickling sensation in my mind that allowed me to control him. I burst out, “I rode you!” My surprise turned to disgust. My cheeks turned red. “You were inside my mind!”
“Just a bit.” He toothily grinned at me. “It’s not like I invaded your memories, my dear. Just the necessary reading of what you wanted me to do and where you wanted me to go.”
I shook my head and then stopped to stare into his creepy red eyes to seek the truth. “So, it wasn’t me controlling you?”
“In a way, yes. But actually, no.” Again, he smiled, but this time took my hand in his and lightly kissed my knuckles. He looked up at me from his bow. “Your Highness, I am Hector.”
“Highness?” I was startled. I drew back my hand in repulsion of the word. “You must have me confused with some other girl.” I laughed uncomfortably.
Hector looked at Onora in confusion and then back at me. “Is she not?”
Onora shrugged her shoulders and casually replied, “We will see, I suppose. So many things have been foretold. So many times have they not come true.”
“The prophecy? That again?” I sighed. “I can’t get away from it, can I?” I hung my head, curtain of black hair hiding my face.
“What? Why would you want to run from your destiny?” Hector eyed me as though I just said the most ridiculous statement he ever heard. “Destiny is not a punishment. Destiny is living to our potential. We can only control our actions and hope to meet that promise which is tucked away in each of us. What results from our desperate attempts is meant to happen because we chose what brought us to that point.” He ran his fingers through his thick hair and sighed before smoothing out the front of his clothes and continuing. “But I digress. We need to work on our mind path. Right?”
Hector indicated three cushions which now appeared around the center orb of the room. I looked to Onora for some kind of indication as to whether or not I should do as this Hector creature requested.
She gently held my arm and guided me to a gold cushion. It was covered with green and purple iridescent blackbirds which were embroidered into the fabric. I knew without asking that this was my cushion—my place among the Sidhe. There were no tassels on my seat, not even a ribbon edging. All of those emblems come with time and experience. But I knew the gold field’s representation of the Transfigurines. If I took my seat, it would be my acceptance into that part of the clan.
I took a deep breath.
So, the High Sidhe offered me a place in one of the most exclusive groups within the clan.
I stood looking down at the beautifully intricate seat. I whispered, “But I thought Tallulah didn’t want anything to do with me.”
Onora patted my shoulder with reassurance. “We all knew before you went to the Shifting Stone. It was just a formality.”
“But what about my choice? Isn’t that what Hector was just talking about?”
“It is your choice, Morgan. It always has been your choice. And so, here it is, and it is yours to make.” Onora plopped herself down on her own purple cushion streaked with red embroidery. The pearl, amethyst, and jade beaded tassels dangling on the edges shook as she rearranged her skirt.
Hector, the constant gentlemen, stood behind his swirly green and blue seat, waiting for me decide.
“But I’ve always been so horrible at shifting,” I muttered.
I couldn’t believe that they actually wanted me to join. I thought my best hope would have been for an offer from the Nurturers, and I would have spent a lifetime in the fields with Bridget.
I tried to reassure myself. It doesn’t mean that this is it. This is not the end to who I am. My tassels may end up any color, any form.
With hope for more options in the future, I took my seat of gold. Hector bowed to me once more and sat down, hands delicately folded over his crossed legs.
“Now,” Onora smiled and addressed us. “Hector and Morgan. The bond between the two of you has already begun, and that must be solidified to protect you both.”
Hector nodded – he seemed to know all of this and the reasons, but remained silent.
“Morgan, do you know what Hector is?” She smiled at me with amusement.
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“Um… a Transfigurine?” I reached for something which could make sense, but I knew the moment I uttered my guess that I was wrong. Hector definitely was not Sidhe.
Onora gave me a sideways look. “An attempt, I suppose. But you already knew that wasn’t it, eh? Morgan, Hector is what some call a Kelpie.”
I heard Onora use the term earlier, but at the time, I thought that was the horse’s name. “A what?” I asked. I looked at the man who sat with perfect posture on his rounded cushion.
“A Kelpie. Sometimes called a waterhorse. Some think that Ness from the old world is one of his kind. The accounts differ, the names change. But what’s important is what Hector really is.”
I heard of Nessie—the Loch Ness Monster—but always assumed that those stories were simply made up by humans who either wanted to get rich, scare away others, or make up a story to cover up sightings of real faery phenomena. They were the things of legends and myths. The backdrop of ancient cultures.
“May I?” Hector cut in.
Onora chuckled and covered her mouth, her eyes wide with secret amusement.
Hector looked at her in annoyance. “Something wrong?”
“No!” Onora’s eyes watered until she couldn’t keep it in anymore, and she burst with laughter. “Better she hear it straight from the horse’s mouth! Bahahaha!”
Hector rolled his eyes as Onora dabbed tears of laughter from under her eyes. I stifled a giggle and tried to avoid looking at Onora. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if I caught sight of my mentor’s frivolity.
“I haven’t heard that one before,” his voice dripped sarcasm. “But I guess that hearing about me, from me, would be better than hearing it from one half-lunatic.”
Hector wove his hands through the air, eyes closed, and the giant orb which was half-submerged in the ground before us glowed a deep crimson.
“I transform into several things.”
Dark images of a horse, a sea serpent, and a man faded in and out of the orb’s swirling light.
“There are not many of us left in the this world, and we are one species of only a few allowed to regularly cross from the Otherworld to the Humanworld. The Death Callers—or Banshee, like you—are one of the other creatures allowed to roam. As you know, the rest of the Sidhe world is only allowed to cross over during certain festivals throughout the year. But we are given this special privilege at all times—this sacred trust.”
The orb shifted and revealed lakes and streams – snapshots of places which seemed vaguely familiar.
“My kind live near water. It’s an unfortunate necessity of our species, but not the only shortcoming we endure. Have you never heard the legends of the Kelpie?”
I shook my head no. “Only the basics since my parents left.”
“That’s too bad. Our world is so rich with history—we’re timeless.” Hector regrouped. “Now, the other distasteful part of my life is that it is in my natural instinct to feed off mortals.”
My eyes grew wide, and I looked for answers in the orb, but there were none. My mind raced and I blurted out, “Like a vampire?”
Hector laughed but still managed to keep his modest posture. “No, not like a vampire.” His solid red eyes gave nothing away as he leaned toward me and whispered, “I actually eat the body.”
I jumped up, “What?” My head whipped around and glared at Onora. “So, you’ve brought some creature from the darkness to be my friend? What is going on?”
“Morgan, Morgan,” Onora’s voice cooed. “Like always, your mouth works more swiftly than your mind. There are no dark creatures. Sit down before you work yourself into a fit. Such things as dark creatures are faery tales told to scare young Sidhe from getting any wild ideas. What Hector is trying to tell you is about his nature. He cannot help what he is.”
I sat back on the cushion and stared down at my hands which now rested in my lap. There was nothing else to do, and I was slightly embarrassed for not trusting Onora. “Sorry, Hector. Please, go on.”
“Not to worry, your Highness. Trust me. I have done much worse in my time. But I suppose that brings me back to where we were – I eat bodies. Well, not all of a body. I have managed to wean myself off of humans over the years. And I can get away with living off of stray goats and sheep for a few decades, but unfortunately instinct takes over until there is a victim. Consequently, my hunger and feeding also helps keep unwanted people from going near certain bodies of water.” Hector‘s red eyes stared into mine. “Morgan, I can be very dangerous, especially near my element. This is why you must work with me on creating this bond.”
“I’m confused.” I shook my head. “No other Ban Sidhe has ever had another creature that they work with. So, why are you even here? Why do we have to forge this bond?”
Onora broke her patient silence. “Hector knew your father, and when we solicited his help, he demanded that he only work with Delvin’s offspring. Branna and Bridget are too set in their ways to be able to open their minds to allowing the bond.”
“But what is it we are supposed to do with it? Just prance around together while I try to keen Aidan?” I looked at them in desperation, thoughts running through my head that I was once again being used by those more seasoned than I.
Onora gently touched my shoulder like she did all of those days in training. “Everything will make sense in time. Patience. What makes this pairing vital is the Northern Gateway between our world and the human’s is at risk of being opened permanently. Hector was sent to help keep that from happening.”
Hector added, “You see? Our kinds are the only ones who can work from the inside and the outside.”
“But the marcuck. . .” I tried to sift through everything they were telling me. “Shouldn’t the marcuck be the one protecting the gateway?” I didn’t want to accept this—that I would help with matters beyond my ability. How could the fate of both worlds suddenly be placed in my lap?
“True, the marcuck protects the gate and keep those who don’t belong out and those who pass on from the mortal world in. The problem is,” Hector leaned forward, “the marcuck of this particular gateway is set to change over shortly. I am sure the new marcuck will soon arrive at the Northern Gateway, but his partner is missing.”
“Partner? What, like his wife?”
“No. One like me who works the waters around the entry point. Kelpie is the first line of defense and creates a bond with the marcuck. But the new kelpie’s gone missing, and if it’s not found and put back at the gateway by Beltane, all will be lost.”
“Beltane. That’s only a few days away.” I figured how long until it was the semi-annual celebration in my head. “Three days.”
Hector nodded. “Without the Northern Kelpie, the new Marcuck will not be able to control the gates. The old Marcuck and his partner must pass on together. Their bond makes it so. No kelpie, no Marcuck. This is why I came here. I am one of the few unattached kelpie left in the world. The rest who are not retired in the Otherworld are bonded with various marcucks at different gateways. If the Northern Gateway’s kelpie is not returned, souls will flood the Earth, demons kept hidden will rise to the surface, and human life as we know it will be demolished.”
“But our world would continue?” I asked.
Hector sighed, and his red eyes shone in the orb’s glow. “It would continue in a new form with all balance lost. But, yes, we would survive.”
Hector waved his arms above the still-swirling orb, the clouds shifting and parting, revealing a high mountain lake surrounded by forests stretching on all sides. “Here,” he pointed for emphasis, “is the Northern Gateway. Pend Oreille.”
I stared at the deep blue water, imagining a creature like Hector residing in such a place. I broke from my trance. “What I don’t get, is why I’ve never heard of Kelpie before. Is there a reason this is kept from all of the Sidhe?”
Onora coughed lightly. “If you don’t mind, Hector?”
He merely nodded in his customary politeness, w
eaving the clouded orb as Onora turned to me. I was starting to get used to waiting and listening, but I kept wishing that they would just get to the point.
“It is the Inner Ring’s way. Some creatures of the Otherworld know about the gateways because they pass through them during their appointed times. We, as Hector said before, are some of the few who are allowed to live in the human realm permanently. You see, we have a purpose.”
The foggy globe swirled and showed a dark bird soaring through the skies, human souls trailing on its tail feathers.
“The Inner Ring realized millenniums long past that keeping the younger ones from knowing all of the Gateways’ secrets would best protect them.”
Again, the orb glowed another image: a young man rode on a prehistoric creature, clinging to the mane which hung from its elongated neck. In one hand, a glowing red ball illuminated the water and kept back a shadowy form.
“Was that—?” I pointed at the now-swirling grey smoke.
“Yes,” Hector intervened. “That was Arthur. He is the current marcuck who will be passing into the Otherworld, leaving the Northern Gateway vacant. The kelpie? That would be my sister Raena.”
I saw in Hector’s eyes a glint of a tear, but he quickly sniffled, and it was gone like it never resided in his red eyes.
“It must be difficult for you then,” I delicately said.
“What?” His mouth pursed.
I hesitated, but then continued. “Well, if she’s your sister, and she’s going to pass on. . . well, I just thought that would be hard to accept and even help bring about.”
Hector’s back went rigid and his voice was just as terse, “I’m not helping bring about anything,” he said. “The only thing I’m worried about is making sure that my sister’s good name remains spotless and that this thief is captured and destroyed.” His voice rose with each word, red eyes filling me with dread for what I said. “Understand, Sidhe?”
His glare made me shrink back into my cloak, wishing I could just hide away from his eyes. The way he said “Sidhe” made me feel like scum – like Kelpie were of a higher rank than my species. But quickly I nodded, not even answering back with the cutting words held in my mind. No one spoke. I was afraid of addressing him again, but he also seemed a bit ashamed of the outburst.
Onora gave me a comforting look that momentarily washed away the pain of Hector’s blunt words.
“Hector, Raena will not be sullied by the recent events, and there is no doubt that Morgan here will be able to ensure that it does not happen. I foresee great things for my young prodigy.” Onora stood and walked across the room to a faintly glowing ball of green mist which I failed to notice upon reentering the Chapel.
It was this orb that Onora now guided through the air with the swish of her hand and a quiet word under her breath. As the swirling came closer to us, the sphere grew larger. Its multitude shades of green were now evident in the condensing churns of werelight.
“Now. Time to plan.” Onora winked at us and reached into the werelight, pulling out a tattered scroll tied up with grungy, snarled pooka hair. Onora snapped her fingers, and the end of her index finger held a dancing flame which she used on the scroll’s knotted band. “Nothing like foul stench to keep away prying eyes.”
The scent of rotting flesh filled the Chapel. I glanced around, convinced that at any moment someone from the Inner Ring would intervene and berate us for defiling the holy place. But no one appeared, and in a moment the flame was gone as were the hairs which held the scroll rolled tight. The yellowing parchment still held its form without a single singe.
Onora winked at me. “Just a little trick I picked up from an old friend.”
With her open palm, Onora casually motioned to the wall, the green werelight shrinking and retreating back to its original location.
“Now.” She spread the parchment out before her. “We need a plan.”
I moved to look over her shoulder, as did Hector, but was shocked at what I saw. The entire surface was blank.
“There’s not a plan already?” My heart thumped harder in my chest. I had been nervous since the High Sidhe brought me to the Chapel, but everyone took care of the necessary steps, keeping me unaware of the motivations for their actions and demands.
“Of course there’s a plan, my dear.” Onora lightly elbowed me and chuckled to herself. “The key is getting to the plan. But if everything is as I suppose it is, then we should be fine. Your hand, Morgan.”
She held her leathery palm out to me, and I quickly complied. With Onora, it’s always best to trust her and not make her wait.
Suddenly she gripped my hand with surprising force, crushing my delicate bones as she loudly spoke, “Fuil foilsum.”
I suppressed the cry that rose in my throat, but then Onora’s other hand pointed its pinkie finger at my aching palm. The fingernail grew two inches and tapered into a crystalline point.
“What are you doing to me?” I struggled against her, but she only held on tighter and laughed.
“What is required! That is what we are doing!” she shouted.
Hector helped to hold me still as the nail dug into my palm, gouging the rune of Ken. The blood pooled from the angled marks, and I let out a shriek.
“Let me go!” I cried. Tears rolled down my freckled cheeks. I felt my face redden with each passing second.
“It is almost done,” Onora chastised as she squeezed my hand tighter, releasing blood onto the page.
The drops disappeared in the filaments of the parchment, and Onora finally released me. I floundered to the ground, clutching my burning hand.
I didn’t know what to say to the Sidhe I looked up to for so long. I blew lightly on the rune etched in my hand, hoping it would lessen the pain. I scowled at Onora, my body in too much pain to stand up and leave or say anything.
Besides, Onora wasn’t even looking in my direction. Her eyes were trained on the Kelpie. “Now you, Hector.”
He willingly held his hand over the scroll while Onora gouged her nail into his muscular palm. Hector did not flinch as the three lines on his palm dripped his thick black blood, but once the fluid was collected on the paper, he held his hand tightly to his chest, his lips pursed tight. The only sound which filled the Chapel hall was my muffled whimpers.
Onora’s elongated fingernail swirled unseen patterns above the blank parchment where the blood drops fell and disappeared, but from where I was curled up on the floor, I could only see her face. Onora’s intense eyes, fixed on the twirling of her pinky finger, gave no sign of the spell’s conclusion.
Minutes later Onora’s finger ceased its swirling, and the pain in my hand dissipated into a slight throb. I glanced down at my palm where the flesh was already healing over the wound, leaving a faint scar of the Ken.
“It’s worse than I thought,” Onora squinted at the parchment she now held between her two withered hands, her pinky nail back to its original length.
Hector peered over her shoulder, and his mouth dropped open until he covered it with his hand. “It cannot be.”
“But it is,” Onora replied.
“What is?” I slowly stood, keeping my distance from the other two. I still had no idea what was going on and why Onora attacked me without explaining anything. I was becoming tired of all of the High Sidhe just springing things on me without simply telling me what was happening.
Onora’s finger traced along the parchment. “Leanan. A Leanan is loose. But how?” She turned to Hector for an answer.
Hector searched for an explanation. “Maybe there have been Leanan in this part of the world for quite some time, and she’s just emerged?”
“We would have sensed her long before. This, I know. One of you has been in close contact with the Leanan.” Onora’s cold eyes darted back and forth between Hector and me. “The blood doesn’t lie.”
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about!” I sputtered as I raced over to look at the parchment myself, but I couldn
’t make much from the green runes that covered the surface. Onora snatched the parchment away, rolling it up and holding it under her arm. She took several paces back from us, her right hand outstretched toward us. “Tell me! Which one of you?”
Hector was speechless and kept scratching his forehead, muttering, “But I – Wouldn’t I have known – There is no way—.” He finally resorted to giving Onora a pleading look.
“I think I believe you, Hector. After all, you’re a horrible liar.” She turned to me and no longer held the warm and playful look of the mentor I was accustomed to admiring. “You. You’ve been travelling after this boy. Aidan. Who else?”
“His family… but what is this Leanan?”
“I said who else!” she demanded. Her eyes were on fire, her demeanor unlike anything I had seen before.
“Just his family,” I replied. “Mom, Dad, brother, sister, aunt, and uncle. I swear I don’t know anything about this Leanan thing, but if you’d just tell me—”
Onora cut me off before I could ask further. “A Leanan is a Sidhe, Morgan. A very despicable Sidhe who feeds off the weaknesses of men. She lures her victim with sweet words and coy looks, inspires him to greatness with her cunning, but meanwhile feeds on him until he is merely the shadow of the man he once was. Sound familiar?”
“Not at all!” I said, so angry at an accusation that I was nearly in tears. “Why do you think I would knowingly associate with such a creature? You know me, Onora. You know that I’d much rather stay at Finias and mind my own business! I never wanted any part of this.”
Onora grumbled. She shuffled where she stood, obviously thinking things over. “Well—” she hesitated. Her skirt swirled about her stout frame as she continued padding back and forth on her feet. “Very well. But if either of you run across anything odd, you let me know. Got it?” Her bony finger pointed at us like a dagger, and we nodded in quiet agreement.
“Now.” She tightly rolled the parchment as she spoke. “As to the plan. The final binding is set by the scroll, but both of you will have to work together in order to meld your powers. Whatever this Leanan is up to, I am sure it is somehow related to the Northern Gates fiasco. It is too suspect to be merely coincidental.”
Onora shoved the scroll back into the green orb that hovered in its corner where she left it. Then the old seer shuffled back to the center of the room and stared at both me and Hector. “Well?” she asked. “I think it is time you practice. No one won a battle or stopped evil forces by sitting around mute.” Her face cracked to reveal that playful smile which I was more accustomed to seeing.
The business with the leanan was disturbing enough – let alone Onora’s behavior. It was a relief to finally see Onora calm down and return to her usual self.
“Well, let’s get on with it!” Onora clapped her hands together.
With that, Hector transformed to his former state, his mane dripping wet. I cautiously approached, waiting for the tingling sensation that would creep through my brain the moment we made contact. Surprisingly, when I took my station on his back, I didn’t feel awkward in the least bit. Maybe the whole creepy blood ritual of Onora’s actually worked.
Hector’s voice entered my mind. Ready, your Highness?
“I guess so,” I said aloud, but then caught myself and concentrated harder to try and send the thought. I wasn’t sure it worked until I heard what sounded like a faint echo of my own voice bounce back into my brain.
Within an hour we mastered basic maneuvers and turns around the Chapel, cantering and cutting across the stone floor with ease.
“Now.” Onora stopped us mid-step and stood in front of the red-eyed steed. “Hector, if I let you outside, do you promise me you will behave?” She looked into the deep red rims of his pupils. “Hm?” She gazed further.
“He says, ‘Of course.’” I smiled from above, glad that the tenseness between Onora and I had faded over the last hour that I worked with Hector.
Onora curtly nodded and replied, “Very well. Let’s be off.”
Out the door Onora flew in her peregrine form, Hector trotting closely behind as I held to his mane with my stiff fingers.
Over darkened hills and through nighttime’s shadows we travelled, winding through Finias’ village center, out of the protected perimeter of the fairy refuge I called home. We emerged in the high desert.
“Where are we heading to?” I quietly asked after an hour of travelling through the sagebrush and newly sprung grasses.
“How should I know? I’m not the one in training.” Onora laughed and continued flying alongside.
While her response provided no relief, what made me feel better was the fact that Onora was in even better spirits.
Hector’s smooth voice suddenly sounded in my mind. Remember how I’m drawn to water? I’ve been so far away from it since I’ve been in Finias, I can feel it calling to me. Let’s hope my desires don’t get the best of me and the worst of you.
What do you mean? I sent back at him. Trying to control my mind’s tone was becoming easier the longer we were in contact.
Remember how I told you that my kind feed off of humans? We can do this because we carry victims on our backs—fast enough so they don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. And then? We drown them.
I gasped aloud.
“So, he finally told you?” Onora cackled. “Now you know why I asked him if he could handle this!”
“Drowning people? Are you kidding me?” I didn’t know if I should jump off right then and head home or transform first and just fly away.
“Be at ease, Morgan. If Hector travelled around killing people all of the time to survive, he would not have lasted this long. Very few Kelpies can remain in the wild away from Otherworld creatures – otherwise their instincts take control and some of us have to intervene. We can’t have humans knowing we exist, right? Trust me; Hector hasn’t killed a human in hundreds of years. Right, Hector?”
Hector whinnied, nodding his head and accidentally whipping me in the face with his drenched mane.
“It still doesn’t make me feel any better,” I muttered, wiping the water from my cheeks.
We reached the apex of a farmer’s hill of young wheat, but as we came over the uppermost curve, Hector’s ears went rigid and his nostrils slowly flared. He sniffed the cold air, his eyes open wide and searching the distant landscape. His head swiftly darted left and right, his body on high alert. Without warning, he broke into a full gallop, coursing down the hill and kicking up dirt in his wake. I held to his mane as tightly as I could, afraid I would slide off his back and bash my head on the hard ground.
Onora’s rasping voice called from behind us, but I could not hear a word she said as Hector’s thoughts of thirst invaded my mind.
I continued to instinctually hang on for my life. But then I saw it in the near distance.
A wide river slowly moved through the irrigated valley, snaking its way through newly sprouting crops.
Hector’s plodding broke the hardening mud. Second after second, the river came closer.
Stop, Hector! Stop! I begged him, tugging on his mane, my fingers slipping as even more water dripped down the black locks.
What are you doing? Stop! The whipping wind thrashed at my wide eyes.
Only yards away from what I could only see as my watery grave, I gave him one final warning. If you are not going to tell me, then I’ll just have to do something!
Still no response from the Otherworld creature.
This time I didn’t even have to say the words. I only had to imagine what I could be. As the river churned beneath me, I could feel my massive wings spreading.
It wasn’t until my crow form was soaring above the river that I spied Hector. His serpentine neck appeared from the water’s surface for a moment before submerging to breathless depths.