3. The Shrouded Village #2
“She will certainly be leaving sooner than that,” Heron replied. “I’d wager she has a family that will be worried sick if she isn’t home.”
Flora slumped with a quiet huff.
Heron continued, “And Perri, you ought to check in with your goats. And parents.”
Reluctant, Perri waved as he headed toward his family’s distant field. “Florabelle!” he called. “Let’s hang out again soon, okay? Bye!”
“Okay!” Flora waved with a grin.
To Noec and Flora, Heron began, “And you two: finish up, then head to the spring. Stay together.”
“Yes, sir,” Noec replied dolefully, wiping his mouth and looking down.
Heron cleaned the residual jam from Noec’s chin, and as the boy looked out past the curtain of dark gold, Heron sighed deeply. “Don’t worry,” he assured Noec gently. “Your friend will be right back in the morning.”
And so, Noec and Flora began the short journey back to the spring.
“Are your parents here, too?” Flora asked.
“Not here, no.”
“Oh, okay.”
Noec hugged his arms as he looked ahead. Flora raised a brow as he tried to whistle, giving up after one or two sputtering tries. Flora giggled lightly, and he smiled back. She was too young to ruminate on the awkward air between them, but still—she was happy that he smiled.
“Is your aunt nice like Heron?” Flora asked.
“Mhm,” he replied with a happy nod. “She’s pregnant, so she’s been feeling sick more often.” He added, “I hope she’s feeling better when you come back. Elia’s the best.”
“I hope I come back.”
“Heron says you will,” Noec assured her. “And my dad used to say that Heron’s the only man in the world worth trusting.”
Flora smiled and hoped he was right. She looked up at the peach and lavender sky. In the silence, she wondered if there were enough markers in the universe to create so much color.
Together, they quietly admired the bees, buzzing through weeds and gathering around lilies. As evening pulled the sun down, the night lilies began to unfurl and glow.
Noec came to a sudden stop. He was listening for something. The singing birds had fallen silent, and as they walked, even the bugs had ceased their chattering. A chilling sound tore through the still trees.
“Help! Please help!”
Noec and Flora shared a quick, wide-eyed glance, and Noec took off running.
“What are you doing?!” Flora shouted after him.
“What if it’s Nia?” he called back, already racing ahead. Flora glanced down at the pretty white stone in her hand, and her eyes widened.
They followed the frantic cry all the way to the meadow, where the stone path stretched past the waterfall.
In the field, light trickled through the trees, casting playful patterns that danced across the grass.
Tiny summer flowers dotted the darkening ground, a burst of color like paint splatters on a green canvas.
It could have been a portrait of tranquility, if Flora didn’t feel as though a snake were slithering down her spine.
At the edge of the clearing stood a lanky woman with dark and knotted hair, wildflowers swaying softly around her feet.
Nothing about this woman led them to believe that she was in danger—besides, of course, her scream.
The woman stood with her eyes to the sky. Screaming.
“Noec?” Flora gasped, halting as he continued on. “I don’t like this. I wanna go.”
At the sound of Flora’s voice, the woman’s head snapped from her unblinking gaze at the sky. Her blank expression turned toward Flora. Flora’s legs locked, her breath caught in her throat.
The stranger’s eyes—dull white, no pupils, no irises—stared back.
This was it. This was why Noec had studied Flora the way he had in the Forest.
Her eyes. Her weird blue eyes.
“Run!” Noec yelled, rushing toward Flora. The woman’s pale skin began to fracture like porcelain, with a sound that crackled like burning coal as a cloud of ash enveloped her. “Go! Go!” Noec cried. “Don’t look back!”
Talons ripped through the cloud of fire and smoke, and Flora bolted alongside Noec. A moment later, the same discordant screech from the day before tore through the air behind, but this time louder, closer. She ran like Noec said, but Flora couldn’t help herself. She glanced back.
White eyes. That was all that remained of her.
The rest had been replaced by feathers, fur, and steel.
The woman had become something like a winged panther. With both primal violence and elegant mystique in each step, this creature was the kind of sight that could inspire legends—and nightmares.
Sharp and fluid like a feline, dark and sleek like a raven, it was the haunting embodiment of the monster in the night. Feathered wings stretched outward with a ghostly elegance. But, they snapped back like an umbrella battered in a storm as the demon broke from a prowl into a run.
Flora screamed, the sound torn from her throat.
“Jump in the water!” Noec cried. “It’ll take you home!”
The spring was maybe ten steps ahead of her.
The ground seemed to rumble, and the screech tore through her mind like nails on a chalkboard as the creature took up speed.
Eight steps. She was eight steps from waking up.
But it was fast. Too fast.
The creature rocketed toward them, claws raking up dirt as it ran. It was snapping blindly, snarling as each lurch drew no blood.
Six steps from her pink flowered blanket.
She could feel the whip of the wind as talons caved the air behind her.
Five.
Flora’s eyes widened. It was right there. It was right behind her.
Four.
She was going to make it. Flora reached out her arm, already preparing to tumble into the water.
But three steps from salvation, the protruding root of a nearby tree caught her foot, and Flora was sent sprawling onto the ground.
She froze.
There was a sharp, immediate sting where Flora’s knee had scraped the dirt. With her nose to the grass, she choked back pained, heaving tears.
A rush of wind passed over, a flutter of motion followed by a deafening silence. When the rumble of the earth had ceased, she looked up slowly past her shaking hands.