Chapter 1: Harbinger

There was nothing auspicious about the day. September 2 was a day like any other, with the highs and lows of everyday life. A day of teaching, a day of fun with only one minor mishap involving a student’s violent and literal meltdown. A day of interacting with her fellow faculty and some of her friends of old. A day of catching up on lost time. Now Elizabeth Sundance began the culmination of the day in the company of her beloved pets.

The last vestige of the sun had dropped below the horizon, though it had been more than an hour since Liz had directly seen it, the time filled with a slow and gentle excursion through the Mansion’s hedge maze. No matter how many times she delved into its depths, the paths never seemed to be the same from attempt to attempt. Could it be the work of a hortimancer? A team of crafty gardeners? Or perhaps her memory just wasn’t great at memorizing endless walls of topiary.

At the moment, however, Liz wasn’t really trying. She was instead soaking in the ambiance, the way the twilight altered the shadows, casting rippling pools of darkness at her feet, even as the edges of the bushwalls shone with reflected fire from the sky above. The simple contentment of her faithful canine companion’s tendency to run to the end of his leash and stay there, analyzing every new scent and motion he detected buoyed her spirits and deepened her satisfaction of the day. The boorish snobbery and disdain from her parrot perched on her shoulder at the dog’s behavior contrarily caused mirth to bubble up inside Liz.

It was grand.

“Alright boys, it’s about time to go inside,” she said fondly. She turned in place and met stiff resistance as Zorro decided he wanted to go deeper into the maze. “I mean it Zorro,” she said just a touch firmer.

“Listen to Lizzy,” Nico chimed in. Liz didn’t have to be an empath to feel the smugness radiating from the bird.

Zorro whined and looked back imploringly at Liz. He hit her with the biggest, roundest, most pleadingest eyes you’ve ever seen.

Liz was immune.

“Come on, boy,” she said with a smile tugging again. For now it was still playful, but the command was on the tip of her tongue.

Twin spikes of curiosity and wariness snagged her attention. A soft growl from the path ahead and a low squawk from her shoulder followed swiftly. Liz focused into the deepening gloom.

”Caw.”

The twilight shadows were deepening, but as her eyes grew accustomed, Liz made out the shape of a bird standing in the path. A crow, black as night with yellow eyes. “Hello there,” she said, reaching with the hand that did not hold Zorro’s leash. The hand had Nico’s leather cord wrapped loosely around it, but that wouldn’t hinder either of them, since he hadn’t left her shoulder in half an hour.

Zorro huffed and did not cease to stare at the visitor. “It’s alright, boy,” Liz said soothingly and with a grin. “It’s just a crow. You’ve seen them before.” But the feelings of wariness did not die off. Instead, they began to mingle with concern and alarm.

”’Awwk! Beware! Lizzy beware!” Nico cried, starting to flutter his wings a bit.

“What has gotten into you two?” Liz wondered. “It’s just a crow. Look, there’s nothing to beware.” She focused on the bird, with both her eyes and her heart. The crow met her gaze unflinchingly and she could feel...nothing. Nothing at all from the bird.

“...who are you?” she whispered. Zorro began growling lowly again. Alarm was beginning to seep into the blonde as well. The only other time she’d met a crow she couldn’t “feel”, it hadn’t been a crow at all.

The crow stared at her, a little figure of death and darkness, guarding the middle of the path.

”Doom.”

Chapter 2: Bad Omens

“Well that’s rather ominous,” Elizabeth remarked. She shifted her posture until she was in an easier stance, one foot forward the other back. She slowly held her hands up. “Why don’t we talk about this?”

As she spoke, Liz searched again for the bird, straining to feel something. “I’m sure whatever brings you here is something we can handle. Perhaps the X-Men can help,” she said soothingly, underlining her words with pulses of calmness and tranquility. There was no danger here, no. Nothing was going to happen. It was safe. She started to move closer, very slowly. If this was a shapeshifter, she didn’t want to spook it, but if it was a regular bird, she wanted to get inside its head to find out why she couldn’t feel it.

And she was only going to do it by getting her hands on it.

“Sit, Zorro,” she commanded lightly, a feeling of security accompanying her words. No danger here. No reason for the bird to want to flee.

Her dog promptly obeyed, but he still snuffed his displeasure. But Zorro didn’t do anything else - he was far too well trained for that.

The crow took them both in, the whites of its eyes just barely visible. Liz didn’t think it was fooled, but now her every thought and action was around getting to that bird without scaring it off.

”Fool,” the crow said, its voice scratchy. It hopped back, its head darting back and forth from the woman and the dog. ”You cannot touch me. You do not know what is happening. What will happen. What is coming.”

Liz froze. This went far beyond the one or two words that crows and ravens typically used, even when they understood human languages. It confirmed her suspicions. Keeping her hands up and outstretched, even though the crow clearly knew her intent, Liz said, “Then tell me what’s going on. I know a lot of important people, capable of amazing and unbelievable things. I’m sure we can help you with whatever is happening.” At the very least, they could get to the bottom of this. Was the crow lost? Sick? In trouble?

The crow scoffed and fluttered its wings. It turned its head to face the girl, glaring straight into her eyes. ”I am not the one in trouble, Elizabeth Jane Sundance,” it said clearly. “You are.”

”Beware! beware!” Nico cried in her ear. Liz could feel the alarm in her parrot growing and she felt a cold chill run over her.

“What do you mean by that?” she said, forcing herself to breathe steadily. Her gaze flicked around to the path beyond the crow, but she saw nothing. The fear was rising. “How do you know my name?”

“Find the heart,” the bird said instead. ”Fix that which is broken.”

And then the crow burst into the air with a scream. It flew straight for her face, talons outstretched.

Liz screamed out of reflex and held her hands up to block her face. She knew what a bird could do to someone, having weaponized crows in the past. And those remnant fears were still there, triggered by the crow’s proclamations.

Barking thundered through the air as Zorro sprang to his feet, but Nico was faster. With a wild screech, the grey parrot blasted off her shoulder and rammed into the crow. ”Die!” her beloved companion shouted as he snapped at the black bird with his powerful beak.

The crow dodged and aborted its trajectory toward Liz and started to circle back. Then the German shepherd leaped into the air, viscous jaws snapping shut just inches below the bird. He landed and sprang back into the air as the crow labored to gain distance. Nico crashed into the crow from the side and they rolled through the air. The crow managed to flip the bird off of itself and flapped furiously to get away. And it did.

The crow sped off into the depths of the maze, its ebony feathers blending quickly into the growing shadows. And Elizabeth’s dog and parrot went after it, their leashes pulled from Liz’ surprised hands before she could process what had happened. Within seconds, they were gone, having turned a corner in the maze and vanishing.

Horror flooded the empath, and for once it was all her own. “Nico! Zorro! Come back!” she shouted, fear adding a rasp to her voice. This was too far - who knew what else was in the hedge maze! And who knew what that crow was leading them into. For a moment Liz froze again, her mind awhirl. Did she chase them? Into a maze she didn’t know after the sun had gone down, into who knows what else was there? Did she come back in the morning? Did she run to get help?

A loud squawking and a burst of barking suddenly erupted from somewhere in the maze but the cut off with a piercing squeal of a dog being hurt.

Suddenly there were no choices, just a single course of action.

Liz pulled her phone out and activated the flashlight. “I’m coming!” she shouted as she began sprinting down the path, deeper into the maze.

Chapter 3: The Heart Of The Maze

Mulch crunched under her shoes as Liz ran. She paid only enough attention to thank God for having worn sneakers instead of sandals to play with her pets and explore the maze. The rest of her attention was split.

She kept her light trained on the ground several feet in front of her. She slowed her pace just slightly, to save energy as well as to prevent careening into a hedge or tripping over something unexpected. The hedge maze was not familiar ground, even at high noon with the sun overhead. But now? In the twilight gloom? The ornate bushes took on monstrous personas, the shadows lengthening and devouring. And in her mind she could feel Nico and Zorro.

Anger, determination, excitement. Fear. She latched on those feelings and used them as a compass. Where were they? But the thing about compasses is that they don’t help you in mazes.

Elizabeth realized quickly she was lost. Even with her recent encounter with a botanikinetic student in the maze, she didn’t have the place memorized by any means. It was one reason she’d brought Zorro and - she could always use them to fly up and see the way out or follow a scent trail to retrace their steps. But Liz didn’t have them with her.

And there wasn’t any barking or squawking either. Their feelings were suddenly gone too.

No. No. No no no no. “This can’t be happening,” she said. “Zorro! Nico! Speak! Come back!” There was no way they were suddenly beyond her range. She’d’ve felt them fading. Unless they were kidnapped? By an Adapted, like Gemma? Even if she couldn’t feel them, maybe they could still hear her. By the gathering shadows only returned silence. No barking or shrieking or anything.

Except for a cawing.

Liz snapped her head up to a black silhouette on top of a hedge, the last fires of dusk glinting off its feather. She aimed her phone’s light at it.

“Where are they?” she yelled. She knew it wasn’t a regular crow. She would’ve felt it. “What did you do with them?” Anger and fear of her own were rising inside of her, as were the beginnings of tears. She reached for her purse but she didn’t have it with her. It was back in her room. No pepper spray then.

The crow was unruffled. ”The heart is broken,” it said calmly. ”Its pieces scattered. Find the pieces, fix the heart.”

“What does that even mean?” Liz cried. She bent, scooped up a handful of mulch, and threw it at the bird. Bits of pulp scattered across the top of the hedge and hit the bird like flak.

The crow coughed in protest and leaped off the hedge. It swooped down in front of her and hovered for just a moment. ”Foolish girl. You do not see, you do not know.” The crow began to fly away into the maze but it let out a final huff. ”Find the pieces, find your friends! Fix the heart, save their lives!”

Liz didn’t think. She ran.

The crow was just barely in sight, right at the edge of her flashlight’s range. It never rose above eye level for her and every time she turned a corner there was always just enough time to catch it making another turn. Hot tears rolled down her face and she converted her anger into motivation for every stride upon the ground. The crow was toying with her. Threatening her dog and her parrot. Having her do something she didn’t understand.

If she wasn’t saving her breath for the running, she would’ve screamed in fury. Never before had she wished for gifts of fire projection as strongly as she wished in that moment.

It might’ve been only minutes. It felt like hours. Perhaps it was just the maze blocked the last of the sun’s light, or perhaps it had just been that long, but Liz suddenly realized everything around her was dark, except for the pale glow of the moon and stars above. And her light caught the crow making another turn.

Liz whirled around the turn and suddenly started skidding. In the brief second before she stopped, Liz realized this wasn’t just another path in the maze. For one thing, it had opened up into a square area. Some benches were along the sides and small flower beds ringed the place. But what absorbed her attention was the tree growing in the middle of the maze. Gnarled and twisted in the pale moonlight, it was easily thirty or forty feet tall. Not a single leaf covered its branches and thick, knobby roots were exposed, snaking in and out of the ground like a kindergartener’s attempt at tying shoes. And a huge hole began at the tree’s base and ended about five or so feet up.

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open from both her exertion and her shock. There wasn’t supposed to be a tree in the maze! And there couldn’t be - one that tall would have been clearly visible from outside the maze. And it looked dead. But the flower beds were meticulously cared for - even Liz’ untrained eye could see that.

Her skin began to crawl and she felt another chill, unwelcome even after the heating up from her mad dash.

A shadow moved inside the tree and the crow stepped out. Elizabeth’s nostrils flared. “Where. Are. My. Pets!” she yelled as she stalked forward.

The crow looked at her. ”Come and see.” Without another sound it melded back into the darkness.

Liz jammed her phone in her pocket and sprinted towards that tree, a wordless shout billowing from her throat. There was no way the crow was getting away from her, cooped up in that tree! And when she got her hands on it, she was going to get inside that head and wring it dry of every last secret it held.

She got to the chasm in the tree and pushed in, her hand splayed out and swinging, both to grab the bird as much as to avoid hitting the insides of the tree.

And so the tree enveloped her.

Chapter 4: Into The Woods

Something crunched under Elizabeth’s foot. Her hands flung out and groped in the darkness for the sides of the tree or the bird or anything. Her questing fingers met wood and she began flailing around, trying to find the crow, to stomp it, kick it, hit it, or anything.

A minute later she’d done nothing but gently scrape her hands. With a cry of frustration, Liz yanked her phone back out of her pocket. The light was still on and she cast its glow around her. And all there was to see was more wood, no crow.

“Ruh,” she snarled and jabbed at the tree. Pain blossomed in her knuckles and she hissed. A piece of her knew it wasn’t healthy or smart to strike at trees, but it was barely a wound. She’ll heal. And it still made her feel a bit better.

Liz stormed out of the tree, her hair flying behind her, and her glare turned to shock, then fear.

The benches were gone. And the flower beds. And the hedges.

There were trees everywhere instead. Tall, ancient things, looming high in the darkness. The ground was all dark, the trees themselves just particularly dark patches of black upon obsidian backdrops. This wasn’t the maze at all. The fear dissolved into anger, but no longer the blind rage she’d been channeling. No, this required something more calculating.

Liz took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. She turned around to stare once more at the dead tree she’d emerged from. She swore. The tree wasn’t there. Instead, there were just many other trees, living trees, hanging in the shadows like monstrous spiders. A slow breeze passed through the trees and they began rustling and shivering as their leaves were caressed. Liz shivered as well.

“I am not in Kansas anymore,” Liz said to herself. She held her light up and shone it around her in a circle, but every direction was the same. Trees, trees, more trees, extending as far as she could see in the darkness. The hedge maze at least had some light in it, but this...forest... almost completely blocked celestial illumination.

Liz shut off the flashlight setting. She checked her settings and… “Figures. No service whatsoever. Or wifi. Because that would be too easy.” She was somewhere in some woods at night without any connection to the outside world.

With a few fingerstrokes, Liz dimmed her screen’s brightness as much as possible. “Might as well conserve the battery.” She slid the phone back into her pocket and then simply stood there.

A long time ago, Liz had read a story about a boy getting lost in the woods. He’d wandered off the path, away from his family and when he realized he was lost, he panicked and ran deeper into the woods. When he was finally found, miles away from where he’d gotten lost, the boy was half-dead and suffering from severe exposure and malnourishment.

Liz wasn’t worried so much about that happening. She was far more concerned that she wouldn’t last nearly that long. Not if there was something in these woods. Animals were no concern to her - even a bear could be hers with just a touch. But it was the things that weren’t animals that prevented her from yelling for her pets.

The crow, whatever it was, had come from somewhere and had gone somewhere, afterall. Nico and Zorro had too. Logic suggested they’d gone through the tree as well. Logic also suggested that the woods after dark were very, very dangerous. And who knew what that crow was?

Liz took a deep breath to try to calm herself. Old fears were starting to stir. The anger wasn’t there to ward them off.

“Observation. My location is unknown,” Liz said out loud, focusing her attention on her words and not the reptilian part of her brain. “Solution. Determine location. Methodology. Empirical data required.” Just treat this as an experiment. What can you know? Stick to the science. The cold, logical science. Nothing to fear.

“Temperature is not noticeably cooler than expected norms for the season,” she began reciting. “Implied similar meridian to New York.” She glanced up at the concealing canopy above. “Starlight not quite available. Assuming no temporal displacement, I’m still in the same time zone.” Breathe in, breathe out.

She stooped to pick a leaf from the floor. She squinted at it, but had to get her phone back out to look at it. “Appears to be red maple. Confirms time zone theory.” She pocketed her phone again and wrapped her arms around herself, vainly trying to stop another shiver. What else? What else? She looked around. Trees and trees were all there were to see.

Liz backed up until she came to a tree. She slowly inched down it until she was sitting on the ground, her knees pulled up to her chest. She rested her forehead on her knees and hugged her legs.

“Conclusion: subject is utterly lost.”

Chapter 5: Be Still

It was getting colder.

Liz could almost feel each moment the thermometer dropped a degree. She wrapped her arms even tighter around her body. She wanted to cry, to sleep, to scream, to punch things. She wanted to do nothing.

She dropped all her defense, the psychic levy that held back waves of emotions from around her.

And….nothing.

Just emptiness.

No flickers of fear, of contentment, or anything else. Not even the simplest, most basic of feelings. Liz strained. There wasn’t even a background “static” of feelings, the stuff she normally tuned out with ease.

“What?” she breathed. Her voice cracked.

She held her breath and this time she listened.

Silence, other than the gossamer touch of wind in the leaves. But no crickets, no hooting owls, so snapping twigs.

“What is going on? What is wrong with me?” she exhaled. Was she broken? Was not feeling the crow just the start of her losing her powers? She shook her head.

“It’s just the fear talking. The fear and the cold.” The former was an old friend. The latter was an enemy. Liz took a deep breath.

And then there was something.

Faint, off in the distance, barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat. She wouldn’t have heard it if the night’s typical symphony was playing, but it seemed as though the wind was carrying the sound to her, one she knew very well. Sounds she’d made herself off and on throughout the years.

Baying.

Something warmed inside of her. She ground her teeth and steeled herself and she reached with her mind. There. Dancing shadows on the edge of her feelings. Small little things, passing unbeknownst to her if she hadn’t heard them. So far away. But baying meant dogs. Dogs meant warmth and a way out and most likely human company.

She latched onto those trickles of feelings, just strong enough to detect and not quite strong enough to discern and she made her mind up. Liz tilted her head back, cleared her throat, and then screamed.

Her loud, piercing cry blasted through the silent night and immediately she felt a little spike in the edges of her awareness. She poured curiosity out upon those minds and suddenly felt them growing in strength. Closer, closer.

The chilling blonde allowed herself a small smile as she kept funneling unnatural curiosity at those dogs. Let them come, satisfy themselves. Let them find what made that sound. Let them home in. Let me be found. Her earlier decision, while prudent in concept, was stupid. It was more important to be detected by something else than it was to hide from all risks and die of exposure. And in the worst case scenario, she was about to come into possession of some new allies.

The baying changed in tenor and volume and Liz could feel excitement growing. They were onto her. Good. She pulled herself slowly to her feet, shaking out a slight kink that had developed in a leg. The chill wasn’t doing her any favors.

By now the howling was not far off but something else could be heard as well. A rhythmic thudding, a pounding of the earth. Another mood, one of excitement, but without the aggression and thirst. She narrowed her eyes and turned to face the direction of the noise.

It wasn’t long before the dogs came bursting into view. There were three of them, massive, shaggy beasts with various colors Liz couldn’t even attempt to make out in the dark. Their barking was deafening as they locked onto her and immediately circled her, snapping and howling, and signaling they’d found their prey.

“Enough!” she barked and waved a hand.

The dogs felt silent and cased their pacing as a wave of calmness crashed into them. “Be still,” she commanded. And then it was time to face the fourth emotional wellspring.

A massive stallion thundered into sight, its fur swallowing up whatever light was left. In a swift move it ceased its run and reared, powerful legs lashing out viciously as it let loose a loud and angry neigh. The anger buffeted the girl and she slid a foot back to enter a diagonal stance, all the better to stand her ground. “Raaaaa!” she yelled back at the horse, squelching her impulses to duck. Fury and terror roared out of her and then it was the horse’s turn to shriek.

The horse came down on all fours and whinnied in sudden panic and as it turned and pranced in place, Liz had only the briefest glimpse of movement as a shadowy figure hurled itself from the horse’s back.

Then something slammed her into a tree and she didn’t experience anything more.

Chapter 6: Branches

Softly, slowly, awareness swam into existence. Like a single spark igniting a candle, a candle that in turn illuminated a room. The blonde was aware of an aching in the back of her head and for several moments, it suffused her identity.

She inhaled sharply.

”Ah. You’re awake,” came a deep, gravelly baritone.

Liz cracked her eyes open.

About ten feet in front of her burned a fire, ringed in stones and a small circle of scoured earth forming a final barrier. The flames steadily rose to about hip height before snapping and crackling and releasing pale smoke into the sky. Their heat was washing over her and extracting the chill from her skin.

Yellowish orange light stabbed into her eyes and Liz closed them again. It wasn’t great to look into a fire as soon as waking from...what had happened?

Opening her eyes again but taking care to avoid directly staring at the fire, Liz began casting her gaze along herself. She sitting upright, against a tree it seemed, her legs splayed out in front of her. Just out of arm’s reach, the massive head of one of the hound’s stared at her with mild curiosity as it contented himself basking in the fire’s warmth. She reached out to the beast, not with her hand but with her mind, and she felt such simple contentment.

“Oh…” she breathed. It...was welcome. So very welcoming to feel. None of aggression, the anger, the bloodlust remained.

After a sniff and a once-over, the dog lowered it’s head back to its paws and began ignoring her.

Gruffness attracted her attention. “Interesting,” rumbled the voice again.

Liz tracked through the gloom beyond the dog and glanced to her other side, where another dog was strolling out of the woods into the fire’s glow. No one there who could speak. Unless these dogs could.

“What is?” she said, her voice not much above a whisper. She coughed and felt something shake loose in her throat. “What is so interesting?”

This time the rumbling accompanied laughter. “You are, my dear.”

Movement beyond the flames drew her eyes and Liz could just make out a humanoid shape on the other side of the fire, underneath some shadowy, low branches from whatever tree it was under. But her eyes were still not used to the dark, not with the glare of the fire occluding that option.

“I’m afraid you have me confused with someone else,” she said drily. She began taking stock of her situation. She wasn’t tied up. These dogs weren’t blocking her body or her powers. The person was on the other side of the fire. If she needed to leave, she could. Probably. But she didn’t seem to be a prisoner, so she was going to see what was happening here. Because at least here there was warmth.

“Oh no, lass, I have not missed my mark, at least not for a second time tonight!” More laughter rolled around the little clearing. Liz could feel the dogs stirring in positive response to the man. “Aye, there’s something special about you alright.”

There was a lilting to the man’s words - the voice was distinctly masculine sounding - but it suggested an accent she couldn’t place. Irish? Scottish? German? “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” She sent a mild pulse of curiosity running through the clearing. She felt corresponding interest arise in four places. A soft whinny could be heard coming from beyond her fireside companion, accounting for the horse. The third dog was near, possibly on the other side of the fire with the man?

“Now now, no sense in lying,” the voice continued, bemusement coating every strange syllable. “You’re doing it now.”

“Doing what?” she said, her mind partially focused on the dogs. She spiked the curiosity in them.

“Yer messing with my hounds, you are. I’d appreciate it if you put a stop to that.” And just like that, the bemusement was gone.

The woman blinked in surprise. Now that was a first. “I...my apologies,” she said, taken aback. She stopped the cocktail of restlessness and boredom she had been preparing to cast. “I didn’t know you...how did you know?” She thought she had been subtle. Nudging their moods, slowly planning to metamorphosize their current contentment into a budding combustion engine of eagerness and feral desire to fight and attack and claim their territory, all ready for her to unleash if she needed to get away.

A chuckle. “You’re good, I’ll give you that,” said the voice. It sounded like large stones rolling against each other slowly. “But I know mah dogs. And I saw what you did earlier. ‘Twasn’t hard to string the two together.”

Liz breathed out. Oh. Right. She’d already shown her hand. And there went one of her few aces. Time to prep another. “Where are we?” Knowledge is power. Find out where you are and then you can make a plan to get home, or at least away. She didn’t know that this person was a threat, because he was certainly able to have ensured she wouldn’t have been able to wake up, but Liz believed in planning for as many outcomes as possible, because so few things were usually within her control.

This time the laughter boomed. The hound by her lifted its head and snuffed twice, his ears twitching. “La, lass! We’re in the woods! Did the blow to yer head make you daft? Or can you not see the forest for all of its trees?”

Merriment abounded but Liz frowned. “I mean, what forest is this? What state, what country is this? Is there a road nearby or a city or what?”

The laughter faded. “Truly, lass? I don’t know the forest. How silly, bothering with naming the wild places. And wild this place be, for there’s not a road or city for days and nights away.”

Liz took a deep breath. Okay. If he was telling the truth--okay. Okay. That meant--

“...but such things are of no concern to me. I go where I’m called and that’s all there is to it.”

Now Elizabeth’s frown returned and she risked the firelight to stare at the silhouette behind the flames. “What do you mean? I didn’t call you. There’s no cell service here. I don’t even know who you are.”

Laughter, but grim. “More bucks in the herd, then. I see that you have fallen to some dark powers this strange eve, lass, to know not where you are or what you’ve done. You called me, lass, with the same cunning you use on my hounds and my mount, the same cunningcraft that calls to the fish, the fowls, the game. The cry of the wild places, the silent voice of beasts and creeping things. A call for justice, for reckoning.”

Shadows twisted and Liz watched the man move and shift and then rise. And kept rising. Easily over six feet and looming in the firelight that washed over his dark cloak and hood. He moved closer to the flames and the light caught on something shining around his neck, like a torc. And then up came hands to remove his hood. And Liz realized she hadn’t been seeing low hanging branches.

A proud, curved, and viscous rack of antlers jutted forth from the man’s head.

“You sang to the wild, and the wild responded. I am the lord of the hunt and I have heeded your call.”

Chapter 7: Revelations

Light from the flickering flames cast dancing shadows all over the man, dappling him and his horns with a myriad of crimsons, golds, and ambers.

Elizabeth frowned, her mind awhirl. “You’re a mutant, then,” she stated as she pieced together what he wasn’t saying. A cervine semiform with some latent zoopathic sensitivity. While in her experience, mental powers and physical mutations rarely crossed in a single individual, she’d seen stranger.

The antlers tilted. “What mean you by ‘mutant’, lass?” His voice was warm and seemed genuinely curious.

“You know, someone with an active x-gene? People with powers? Homo superior, as some call us? Children of the atom?”

The figure moved. It seemed like a shrug. “I do not know these titles, but I know many people with gifts. Gifts of cunning like yours, bending wills and summoning forces. Gifts of the heavens, the hells, those with knowledge of the secret paths, the other realms.” The grumbling voice was somehow lighter, but there were no tones of condescension or dismissal. “But that is not what I am. I am more, I am less, I am different, but while you and I are not the same, I perceive we share a common bond.”

Certainty hit Liz like a punch in the gut. She felt the truth of the man’s words deep down in her bones. But this only deepened her puzzlement. Not a mutant? Assuming the gifted individuals were mutants, that is, and not something else. He definitely wasn’t an Adapted. Not with antlers like that.

“I pray thee tell, what bond is it of which you speak?” Liz said, deliberately changing her speech to more closely match his. She could almost feel him smirk.

The figure shifted and Liz watched it move around the fire toward her. She stiffened involuntarily, but caught herself and forced herself to relax. Again, if he was going to do anything, he had had plenty of chances to do so already.

“I speak of the wild soul, the Changing Path.” He was closer and she could see a faint smile on rugged, harsh features. The face of a man who spent most of his time outdoors and had survived many things. He waved a hand around them. “There are many names for it, many forms of it. It sings in my blood as I hunt. It hums and shivers as I track my target, the joy that is birthed through the thrill of the chase. The moment when I am more than just myself.”

Fondness so personal and so...intimate...flourished on his face and the man stared at her with wonder. “Have you never felt this, you who speak in the tongues of birds and beasts?”

His words called to the recesses of her mind, speaking to parts of Elizabeth’s psyche she’d long forgotten or abandoned. The freedom of that first flight. The hidden worlds revealed by a dog’s nose. The variations of water the crab knew so well. The fear the shrew had. The anger of the beaten cat. The panic in the drowning rat. The taste of fresh blood in her mouth and--

“I see,” the lord said softly. He crouched down near her. “Yer visage speaks plainly enough. You have tasted it, and spat it out. Tell me, lass, why do you hold yerself back? ‘Tis a rare and special thing you have. Few others could have brought me here like you did, with nary a fire, bone, or circle of stone. Why do you not embrace this?”

Liz stared at the man and laughed. “I…I’m not!” she said in disbelief. She used her powers frequently, constantly almost..

A sad chuckle. “Aye lass, the truth now. I know when my target is tryin’ to elude me.”

“In sooth, I know not what you speak of,” she said, her frown returning. “You have witnessed my...cunning craft...yourself, not long hence.” She cocked her head and peered inquisitively at him. “Or does the weight of those antlers press flat such relevant memories?”

Rolling laughter and a finger held upright. “Ah, such a wit. But I shall not be led astray so easily. Yes, yes, you calmed my hounds. But just a shadow, it is. A blight on the wild soul. ‘Twas not serenity that brought me here, nay, nor yer iron chains yer so quick to bind with. This is not the wild soul - this is it’s death. And if this is all you are, this would be yer death too, by mine own hand.”

He leaned in closer and stale breath that reeked of old meat washed across her.

“So tell me lass, why d’ye hide from this birthright? Or should I just slay thee now?”

Chapter 8: Reactions

Fear rose up in Elizabeth as she saw the man’s eyes. There was no idle threat there.

Then anger boiled up. “I am not hiding!” she bit out. She pushed off from the ground and propelled herself to her feet. The antlered man was just a moment behind her and more than a full head taller, but she glared at him. “How dare you threaten me like that! How dare you judge me like that? Who gave you the right? You don’t know me. Until five minutes ago, you didn’t even know I ‘spoke the tongue of birds and beasts’ so why do you get to threaten me like that?”

Spittle was starting to fly at the man and Liz’ face felt hot, and not from the heat of the flames. Her chest heaved, but not just because of the sudden upright movement and consequential yelling. She knew this man was dangerous. She was still scared of what he could do. She wasn’t just going to lay against a tree and accept it though.

“Answer me!” she yelled as she stomped forward a half-step, glaring up into the man’s face. The smell was even worse now, the smell of sweat and dirt and filthy leather, but Liz shoved that to the side. She’d retch later.

The growling of dogs reached her ears but she ignored them too. She could feel their own fires and she stoked them just a bit more, drawing upon them just as her body drew upon the heat from the campfire. The fear, even the tiredness, were scoured away by the boiling in her blood.

And the lord answered.

A leather-gloved hand almost the size of her head smashed into the tree behind her and suddenly the other one was shoving her by the clavicle into the tree. The rotted stench came closer. “I am the--”

A fist smashed upwards into his chin and his words were cut off with a click. Liz screamed right into his face as she twisted around, momentarily putting her back against the outstretched arm, and using her moment to escape the shoving hand and ram an elbow into his stomach.

There was an umpf and a surprised exhalation and the hounds began howling, but Liz was already spinning out and to the side from the man. But before she could finish her pivot and lash out with a kick, massive fingers entangled themselves in her hair and yanked. She fell back with a cry and then was flung to the ground. She slapped the ground to absorb some of the blow and rolled to absorb more and to get more distance. She was moving to her knees when a foot blurred into her side.

Liz gasped and fell over. She’d lost a lot of wind with that. Those hands clamped onto her feet and remained even as she tried to kick back. But no use. His hands were like vises and they started dragging her across the ground.

“Nyaaaaagh!” she raged. In the flickering light she caught sight of a hound. A feral grin crossed her face and even as she was picked off the ground she opened a door in her psychic barrier, the one she’d built so long ago to keep her emotions separate from the world around her. Rage flooded the campsite and the hounds lunged forward, already starting to froth at the mouth. A horse cried out with bloodlust and Liz echoed it as she hung in the air and tried to punch the man where it would hurt the most.

“ENOUGH!”

The word cracked across the campsite like thunder. Immediately the dogs and horse were silenced and stilled, the rage and anger vanishing like dust. Even the fire seemed to shrink in on itself.

The word startled Liz and her punch missed, making her swing not unlike a pendulum. Suddenly she was hauled upward and spun around until he had his hands locked around her forearms, holding her at arm’s length.

She spat in his face.

“I said ENOUGH!” he roared as his hand blurred and slapped her hard enough she saw black for a moment. Then he spun her around and pulled her in close, one arm around her arms and the other around her neck.

“Stop this. Right now,” he growled in her ear. “Or I will kill you like I would a rabid dog.”

This time the voice cut through the haze.

Liz stopped squirming. His height was such that she could reach the ground, but she stopped trying to kick him. She stopped trying to bite him too. She reached out to touch the emotional pools that she knew were the dogs, but they felt like frozen ponds to her now.

“Enough,” the man said a third time, his voice just a whisper.

And then he began to laugh.

Chapter 9: Reflections

The laughter rumbled through the man’s chest and Liz could feel it vibrating into her, at odds with her own fury. She still wanted to attack, but the fires had been dampened and alone with her feelings, cold logic found its place.

He’d already proven she was no match for him. She could barely even see him move. The force he could bring to bear was no joke and she doubted he’d let her slide away a second time. He didn’t even seem winded or anything more than inconvenienced by her elbow jab.

Again, she was powerless.

Bitterness seeped through the logic and turned the fury from red-hot foaming to a frigid, seething thing.

The laughter increased. She could feel him shaking.

“What is so funny,” she over-enunciated, her words dripping with scorn.

The arms around her loosened and she was placed gently on the ground. She immediately tensed, but no further attacks came. In fact, she felt and heard him moving away.

“You are, mah dear,” the lord said around a mouthful of mirth. “I understand you now. Tis not the wild soul that frightens you so, for in sooth you call upon it easily when pushed. Tis yerself that frightens you. Don’t bother denyin’ it - I know you’re about to.” Antlers shook from side to side as he began walking back around the fire.

Liz glared. “That’s not--!” she began to snarl. Then her mind caught up to her. Liz turned toward a tree and walked over to it, leaning until she could press her head to its bark. She slumped.

“That’s not inaccurate,” she said in a far calmer tone.

The man said nothing. Liz felt compelled to keep going.

“Do you know what it is like to be afraid? No. Not afraid. Terrified. Do you know that feeling? When everything is beyond your control, you can’t reach out to anyone or anything for help, all you can do is watch as your end approaches?” Liz took a deep breath and turned to face the fire.

“Do you know the feeling of being powerless? Of being unable to do a single, godforsaken thing?” Held at gunpoint in a movie theater. “Being persecuted for being different, but not different enough to do anything?” Bound and thrown into a van. “Seeing death come for you and being frozen in place?” Deathworms converging on her.

Liz kicked at the ground and a small spray of dirt leapt into the flames. “Do you know what it’s like to push that fear onto everything around you? To have the darkest, most vulnerable time of your entire life and force it onto dozens and hundreds of others? Do you know what it’s like to drown others in that darkness, only for it to come rushing back at you?!”

She dropped to her knees. “You said this was a gift? I defy that. It’s been a curse.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do you know how I discovered my power? No, of course you don’t. You weren’t there. Only my cat was. I had just learned that my sister had died suddenly and violently and there was nothing anyone could have done.” Tears began to leak from her eyes.

“And that’s when I discovered this ‘wild soul’ you talk about. You know what I did? I possessed my cat. I shoved it’s mind to the side and invaded it. I stole his willpower, his freedom, his control, and I gave him grief, pain, and torment. And the cat was aware of it the entire time. When I came back to myself, I thought, hey! That was it. A one time thing. A delusion even. I could hide it. Stop it. And you know what happened then? I started feeling everything every animal around me felt. And they felt what I felt. Every joy, heartbreak, terror, and panic passed between us like tides.”

She wiped at her eyes with a not-so-dirty part of a sleeve and sniffed. “I lost myself for a long time,” she said. “Every time something happened to me, I lost myself in my power. I would bleed my fear into every creature around me and then drink it back, doubling, tripling, endlessly building the hysteria until I was consumed. And everything else was as well.” She glared across the fire at the antlered shadow.

“Do you know the level of panic it takes to overload a mouse’s heart?” she asked him. “I do. Do you know the impact that has on a girl who can’t figure out her own mind?” She whispered: “I do.”

A bitter smile etched itself on her face. “But I guess I was lucky. You see, I had an angel looking out for me.” She rocked forward and pushed herself to her feet as she began to pace around her side of the fire. “He was a sweet boy. He wasn’t the cleverest or the best-dressed, or even the most coordinated. But he had a wonderful heart, a strong one. A heart able to take every one of my fears, doubts, and anguish and turn them into peace and love. Despite where he came from and all he’d been through, his heart had room for all of me.”

Liz laughed humorlessly. “But I guess there was a reason his heart was so big. It had to be, because there was a hidden side to him, one without a heart. I knew my angel had two sides, the boy and the legend, but I didn’t know he had a third side, a demon.” The laugh petered out. “Of course, I don’t think he knew it either, not really. But I saw that demon arise one night. I was trapped, dragged along by a lion-man, unable to do anything while he toyed with me. My power couldn’t touch him. But my angel could. He became a demon and fought the lion-man, nearly tore him to pieces. And I caught a glimpse of his eyes and do you know what I saw?”

Silence, except for the crackling flames.

“I saw a beast. Mindless, consumed by its rage and primal desires.” Liz picked a small branch off the ground and threw it into the fire. “I saw my savior lose his humanity and realized that was my fate as well. If I don’t control this thing, this curse in me, if I don’t shut it down, I’ll become a monster too.”

Chapter 10: Blow The Horn

Liz stood in front of the fire, her chest heaving and hot tears running down her cheeks.This was everything she’d bottled up, that little inferno inside of her that had driven her for years. The fear, but also the rage. The rage at her own weakness. The rage at every person who had made her feel unsafe. The rage at the lion-man. The rage at her helplessness.

It was that rage that had driven her to Krav Maga. While she was in college, she’d begun taking self-defense courses and an instructor had suggested Krav Maga to her, especially after Liz had revealed some of her reasons for taking the class. She’d dedicated herself to practice and had earned her black belt in it. It was empowering, thrilling, liberating!

And useless.

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.

The slow clapping from the other side of the fire drew Elizabeth’s ire.

“I think yer ready now,” the antlered man said.

Liz reared back serpentlike and focused her gaze on him. “Ready for what,” she said tersely.

“For the hunt, of course!” the booming voice returned and the shape gathered itself to its feet again. This time the hounds rose as well. “For a moment there I thought ye’d fail the test.”

“What. Test.”

“Aye, no need to bite me head off,” the man chuckled. Liz could almost see him quiver with humor. “Just needed to get a sense of who ye are. Make sure the gift wasn’t wasted on you.”

She frowned. “You mean all of that was a test? The threats? The attack? You were just testing me?” The fire was starting to rage again.

The laughter turned sharp. “Make no mistake, lass. Those were promises, not threats. I meant what I said. You’d not be still standing there with all your insides in the right spots if you hadn’t shown me proof of your worth.”

The frown deepened. “I don’t understand.”

Again, chuckling. “Aye, that’s plain enough. Look, you’re not dead and you’re not cuttin’ off or corruptin’ your cunningcraft. Just got yourself twisted up in faerie knots, is all. But we’ll get those worked out of you, no worries there.”

Liz held her tongue as she absorbed this new information. His speech was permeated with metaphor and jargon that wasn’t the easiest to parse. He left her alive because she was still willing to use her powers? Or because she was scared of what she’d become? Or...something else entirely?

“I kin smell your brain cookin’ from over here, lass!” the man laughed. Liz refocused on him. He’d moved off to the shadow-clad horse and was fussing with a saddlebag. “Part of your problem, that is!”

“How so?” she said, not quite sure what he was referring to.

“You’re thinking far too much,” he said. “Focused too much on what you think should be, what happened to you, why you do things. Should be focusing on what is now and how you do things.”

“Explain.” The rage was cooling off. The analytics were kicking in.

There was a loud sigh. “No no no, that’s the problem!” he said, a note of frustration evident. “Best just to show you, so you can feel what I mean.”

Liz backed up. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. “And what will that entail?”

The cloaked man turned and firelight briefly illuminated his face. He bared his teeth. “Why, a hunt of course! Did you think I was just going to sit here all night, jawing at ya and beating sense into your head? No, I’m here for a single purpose. You called me for a hunt, so a hunt you will get.”

Liz shook her head in confusion. “I don’t know what I did, but I certainly didn’t call you to hunt anything.”

Now the man cocked his head. “Oh? Is that so? Does this mean you’re no longer wantin’ to find yer pets, then?”

Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open. “What? Oh course I do, but-- what?” How did he know? Liz racked her mind to see if she’d mentioned Nico or Zorro. But she hadn’t.

“Again, my dear, I am the lord of the hunt. This is my domain. Now, before we set off to find your dog, it’s time to meet the rest of the hunters.” And with that, the man held a battered brass horn to his lips and blew.

A loud, sonorous note pierce the air.

And the forest responded.

Chapter 11: The Wild Hunt

The first thing Liz heard was baying.

The sounds of dozens and dozens of hounds echoed through the trees. Yipping, yapping, barking, howling, and more as their cries built a thunderhead coming toward the bonfire and its occupants.

It truly felt like thunder as well, but thunder from the grounds. Tiny rocks on the ground were vibrating and Liz could feel it resonating in her chest as well, almost like hordes of drummers descending upon them. But then she realized what she was hearing.

Horses.

And then came their riders. Cheers and whoops and yells started pulsing through the air and what had once been a quiet night had a morphed into a vibrant, partylike vibe.

Then Liz saw them.

Hounds of every size and shape burst through the trees and began swarming their little encampment, washing Liz with their excitement and lust for the hunt. It was enough to make her stumbled backwards, a feeling compounded when the horses and their riders came onto the scene. A rainbow of horses came running through pell mell, pulling off uncanny and intricate feats of dexterity as they threaded their way through the trees and branches and criss-crossing the clearing without hitting anyone or anything.

Elizabeth sat down very abruptly against a tree.

After five minutes that felt like five hours, things started to calm down, if only a bit. Most of the riders had left their horses, which wandered the woods around the fire freely, the dogs scouting out the terrain just as well. The blonde was inundated with their excitement and anticipation. She instinctively through up psychic dams to block it out. Not here, not now! I must keep a clear head! A calm mind! For any wrong word could mean death.

But if the horses and dogs were varied, they weren’t a candle when compared to their riders.

A man in a tartan and kilt with woad across his face dance merrily around the fire with a long, black haired man in buckskin pants and clenched tomahawks and a woman with too large eyes and pointed ears. A person with leaves growing out of their face instead of a beard rushed by, followed by a woman in camo fatigues and a beret. A little person with soild white eyes stared at her for a moment before a massive, barechested woman with a dozen metal rings around her neck grunted at her, only to be replaced by a group of men, women, and androgynous figures of so many different ethniciaties and appearances that Liz couldn’t even begin to process them all or catch more than snippets.

Shouts and chattering covered the clearing, the people every bit as boisterous and excitable as the animals. In fact, it seemed like a rave or a dance was happening. The clearing was filling up and Liz stood up if only to prevent herself from being stepped on as people formed ranks and circles around the fire and began dancing wildly and erratically around it, occasionally throwing items into the flame that made it spit, change color briefly, or release various smelling puffs of smoke.

And the party just kept building and building and building.

A voice cut through the noise.

“Welcome, my Wild Hunt. Rejoice, for tonight we live to hunt again!”

And the people and animals roared as one.

Chapter 12: Cry Havoc

The bellowing of the lord of the hunt boomed over the clamor of the many, many voices and tongues, human and otherwise, screaming, shouting, yipping, baying, and neighing. Elizabeth could feel her hold on herself breaking so she shored up her psychic walls. This was not a time to lose control, to fall into the pools of lust for blood and chase.

“By the light of the moon, forever may she glow, by the heat of the fire, brightly may it burn, and by the shiver of the trees, always watching and always whispering, do we draw together in this liminal place,” the antlered man proclaimed. A chorus of whistles and cheers accompanied his words. A silver wolf stalked past Liz and added its howl to the chaos.

“By the bones of the Earth, our eternal mother, by the shade of the Green Man, our elusive companion, and by the harpstrings of the Good Shepherd, who knew us before we knew ourselves, do we bind ourselves in a pact of blood and spirit,” he continued, his voice gaining added timbres. Drums began beating and a few rattles emerged, a rhythm forming. Several of the hunters began to stomp or clap in time.

“By word and deed we commit ourselves again and again and again once again to this sacred calling, this wilderness bond, this healing time of death and decay, to right a wrong that need not have been done, to scour the heart of savage fury and draw out that which was lost!” The drumming and rattling gained the sound of whistles. The howling of dogs formed an eerie chorus that gave Liz chills, even as a fire was lit inside of her. The maelstrom around here was crystallizing, becoming clear.

The man threw a handful of something into the fire and the flames changed, shifting, shimmering, until a figure of phantom flames loomed life-sized over them all. It was Zorro, who stood there majestically, gazing down at them all before locking eyes with Elizabeth. He leapt, spectral flames flying over the crowd until he struck the ground before her with a wave of roiling heat. Liz gasped and immediately reached out with her senses. “Zorro…”

Fire flooded her being until she felt she felt she was burning alive. She screamed in silence and blissful agony as everything inside of her tore and shifted and stitched back together. She saw seeds sprout, become massive trees, and wither in decay. She saw the ancient beasts of the land grow mighty and fade away. She witnessed the birth of mountains and their deaths even as the rivers snaked their ways over everything.

She saw the fiery Zorro stare at her and then turn, leaving her on the forest floor, alone in a sea of people and animals. Then he barked and began to run. “We ride!” boomed the antlered man.

Chaos surged again as the hunters raced for their mounts and their dogs formed up to give chase. Liz stared at them as stars exploded and reformed around her, as the heavens unravelled and she saw the truth of what lay beyond the realms….

A presence drew her back. The lord of the hunt stood before her, a hound at his side. She asked him questions in languages she did not know and prophesied to him with words she could not hear. He held out his hand. “Come, ride with us.”

The visions started to fade. “...I...cannot…I have no steed….”

“You have everything you need. Rise! It is time for the hunt! Rise, Elizabeth Jane Sundance, mistress of Zorro, for you are needed or all is naught. Arise!”

His hand was still there. She raised her own and placed it in his. He pulled and she felt a jarring, a jolting, and the world streaked by and she saw herself lying on the ground, the hound’s mind welcoming her with the lust of the hunt.

She saw her hand drop to the dirt and the lord turned to her.

“We ride!”

In a bounding leap he was on his horse, who’d appeared out of the shadows and together they leaped over the fire to chase the hunters.

Elizabeth ran after them.

Chapter 13: The Chase

Elizabeth streaked into the underbrush, her paws dancing across the loam like pebble’s on a pond, skimming it for a moment before moving on. The world began blurring by her but not once did she worry about a mishap, for the dark, oppressive forest that had loomed around her human self was a tapestry of information to the hound.

She could hear every heartbeat and panting of her fellow hounds and hunters, could smell each one’s distinct scent and everything they’d encountered over the past day. She knew when the wind changed directions and could smell a mountain’s spring upon the breeze, subtle notes of the abandoned fire creeping in and melding with an infusion of data.

She dashed across a clearing, leaped over a fallen branch, juked around a sapling and snaked her way through a series of briars, instinctively choosing the best course, her paws knowing exactly where to go and how best to get there.

She had never felt so alive!

The horned man and his horse came thundering by, his laughter echoing off the forest’s pillars as he came abreast. “Ho, Elizabeth!” he hailed, fierce joviality in his voice. “Do you feel it yet? The fire in the blood? The pulsing in your heart?”

She only howled like a vengeful wolf in response and she surged ahead, the horned man’s booming voice in her wake with new peals of humor.

This is what she was there for. The hunt. The chase. She swiftly overtook the stragglers of the hunting party. Her laws were lightning and her legs liquid steel. She tore past a horseman with a cowboy hat and spurs. The others were good, yes, but they were not her. She bypassed a woman with a winged helmet and oversized spear, the woman’s horse’s joy streaming into Elizabeth, but it was a pale reflection of her own inner drive.

They were expert riders, possibly unparalleled. They lived by the equine companions, they died by them. They shared everything with them. This Elizabeth knew immediately, for the knowledge was strewn throughout the hound’s mind. They had hunted together for moon after moon after moon, far longer than the hound could remember. Each rider and their horse in perfect agreement, in unison.

Yet none could come close to she.

By wiles and skill and raw ability, the hound made her way to the front of the pack, her baying decibels louder and richer in tone and meaning.

THIS IS MY PREY! It declared. I WILL REACH IT FIRST AND THEN ITS BLOOD BELONGS TO ME!

Every other bark, yip, howl, and woof challenged her and pushed her, as the others fought to take her spot. But she could see the fiery dog ahead. She would reach it first. She would find the prey and she’d emerge victorious, the champion, the apex hunter.

Saliva formed in her jaw and began frothing in her excitement. She howled and howled and howled like the wind and a hurricane of other howls chorused behind her, punctuated by war whoops and horn cries of the hunters themselves. The ground rose and fell steadily as it was hammered by so many paws and hooves and the very trees quaked in fear of their advance.

The hound could feel her brothers and sisters humming with the song of the hunt, could feel their blood boiling in symmetry with her own. Starlight glittered off their eyes and the wind raked through their pelts even as magma coursed through their veins. Duck, dodge, leap, dash, dodge again, slide! The forest blurred more and more until only one thing was in focus for her.

The flaming dog. The beacon they followed. Zorro.

She followed the dog into the night and a forest of hunters followed.

Chapter 14: The End Of The Hunt

There was no time, no distance, no meaning, except for the hunt. The pure smell of burning fire filled her nose and she chased after the fiery spectre. It was so much closer now and she could even see fiery pawprints that vanished only second after being made, trailing behind the blazing dog. She was close enough she could feel its heat upon her muzzle.

The sounds of her fellow hunters began to die off, but she hardly paid any heed. This was her hunt, they did not matter. If they could not keep up, they did not deserve the spoils, the reward. They were not worthy.

Saliva spewed from her mouth and she could feel the fire in her blood spreading outward. HEr heart sang with heat and passion and every step was perfect, in sync, music of the night lifting her higher and endlessly renewing her strength. She far outstripped the rest but she did not slow down.

She ran faster. Harder. More intently.

Mine! she snarled. MINE!

ThHe flaming dog was a mere dozen yards in front of her. Then ten. Then nine. Eight. Six. Three. The hound poured on the speed until she almost reached it. The fire danced between a pair of trees for a mere moments, scant inches away from her. She dug in deep and lunged!

She sailed through the fire and it scattered like wind, but she felt a new surge of hunger and thirst inside of her. She burst past the trees and into a clearing, illuminated by a shaft of moonlight. And then she saw it. The target. Zorro. Laying there, right in the circle of silver, head on his paws.

Fire consumed her.

MINE!

She leaped again. She plowed into the other dog and ripped and tore. This was her target, her prey. The one she’d been after, who’d led her on such a long chase. The one that had hurt her, made her fear, made her weak. Disgust mingled with hatred and fury and they burned and boiled inside of her.

MINE!

Zorro was beneath her, wounds all along his flanks, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, his chest heaving. He whimpered.

Joy suffused her and she could feel the moment swiftly coming. The expectant shudder as that last rattling breath was to come. The stillness that followed, The end of the hunt. The end of her victory. The end of pain and suffering. The death that gave her life.

“Finish it.”

Her mouth descended on Zorro’s neck in a blur and her bone crushing teeth snapped shut.

Silence.

Stillness.

Fire.

Chapter 15: Apex

Bump bump.

Bump bump.

Bump bump. Bump bump. Gasp. Wheeze.

Bump bump. Cough. Whistle. Bump bump. Nicker. Pant.

Bump bump. Bump bump. Whine.

The first sound she noticed was her heartbeat. It was steady and staccato, a rapid pounding she could feel in her head. The next sound she heard was the heartbeat of the dog beneath her.

She sneezed as the hairs on Zorro’s neck tickled her nose. She slowly pulled her tightly clenched teeth from his fur. His unbloodied neck fur. There was no coppery taste in her mouth. None.

The next sounds she heard was Zorro’s wheezing as he struggled to breathe. Then whimpers. And then a voice.

“Finish him,” it rumbled deeply. “Finish the hunt.”

The world rushed back into focus and she could hear and smell dozens and hundreds of men, woman, horses, and canines lurking about, and could feel their palpable eagerness for blood like heat from the hot summer sun. It raked at her spirit, stoked the fire in her blood. IT made her want to howl and sink her jaws into Zorro’s neck.

“Finish it!” another voice whispered.

“End it!” said a third. A horse whinnied and a dog barked.

“Complete the task!” cried a woman with a hawk’s voice.

Then more voices. More howls. More calls. They beat into her ears and mind and heart, pushing, crushing, beleaguering her. Laying siege to her soul.

The fire swelled.

<<MINE!>> she roared in her heart as she whirled around and released a savage growl. She leaped over Zorro’s body and snarled at the closest rider there. The clearing was completely thronged with the hunters. The moonlight glinting off weapons and faces, eyeshine coming from the dogs in the dark. Silhouettes moved just faintly beyond them.

<<MY DOG!>> she howled, barking at a wolf who’d shown a bit too much interest. <<MINE!>>

A hush fell over the crowd. The fire inside her wavered, but she held her ground. The hunters still, even their horses. Not even the creaking of leather or the shining of metal touching cloth could be heard. She paced around Zorro, his weak cries the only audible sound. They were alone in a ring of silent stares, the target of hundreds of predators being denied their kill.

She made another lap and then he was there.

He loomed far, far above her, his antlers giving him a treelike aspect from her vantage point. Silver light dappled his leathers and cloak, granting him an unearthly glow. She planted herself between him and Zorro and emitted a low growl.

“You must finish the hunt,” he said, his voice still, like a panther before pouncing. “It’s the only way.”

<<No! He’s MINE!>>

“So he is,” the man said, crouching down. A spear was in his hand and he leaned on it like a staff. “Nevertheless, the hunt must end. You called the hunt into being - you cannot stop it until it is finished.”

She snarled and feinted at him, teeth bared. Fury blossomed in her eyes and it rolled off of her in waves.

The horned man smiled fiercely in return. “Attacking me is not the answer, lass. Finish. The hunt.” He tapped his spear against the ground. “We shan’t go until our sacred duty is complete.” His grip adjusted.

The fire began to rage inside of her again and she lowered herself, readying herself to pounce. She was fast, strong. She could reach his throat before he could block her. She could kill him, end the Wild Hunt. Kill them all if she had too. Infest the dogs with madness and bloodthirst, panic the horses and begin a stampede. With the hunt lord dead, they’d be defenseless before her. The humans would die beneath hoof and fang. She would bring them down in blood and darkness and the forest would feed on them and grow strong on their corpses. She was the apex predator here.

Then a whimper broke through.

She looked behind her and met Zorro’s gaze.

Fear and confusion roiled around in his eyes, as well as a glimmer of recognition. He let out another whine.

It was like an arctic wind slicing through her.

The fire inside of her blew out in a moment and things went crashing down all around her. She huffed in surprise and alarm and then reared back on her haunches, looking first to Zorro and then the horned man.

<<This hunt is over.>>