Eventually the path we were on sloped upward toward a tree line that began on the crest of the hill. The slant was gradual, at first I barely took notice of the ever-increasing elevation. Then as gravity began to draw more energy from my aching muscles, I began panting with the exertion.
As we climbed, the light began changing. I had no watch to tell me the time, but I was certain noon had long since passed and night was coming closer. I knew once we got to the top of the hill I'd be out of energy, so I silently prayed to whatever deity ruled my fantasy world, for us to finish our climb by nightfall, and seek some sort of shelter under the trees.
When we finally reached the top, I groaned with relief and dropped to the ground.
The Scarecrow laughed. "You don't get out much do you?"
I didn't even attempt to meet his eyes as embarrassment crept in. I was out of shape and I could admit that. Gym class at Forks High wasn't exactly boot camp, and it rained so much hiking trips were usually canceled ten minutes in. Moreover, for a small town located near a mountain range, the local geographic was surprisingly flat, but that could also be that the town did not take up much space. Even so, I thought I was carrying on pretty well. I wasn't complaining about the excess of exercise and this was the first time we stopped since we broke for lunch.
The Scarecrow looked repentant. "I didn't offend you did I? I don't think before I speak so if I misspoke-"
I raised my hand to stop his worrying; I wasn't offended.
I turned around to stare back the way we had just come from and gasped in awe.
The beauty of what I was now looking at had me back on my feet in an instant.
The sun was a spark of molten gold on the horizon, giving off a platinum flare that licked the nearest clouds, infusing them with white brilliance and coral colored contrasts. The contrasts faded into lavender haze that blended into a deepening indigo sea. Stars of gleaming silver and twinkling turquoise stared down at me from the beginnings of the night sky. I had never seen such brilliance from a setting sun.
The landscape was just as impressive. The fields of crops and livestock all seemed to be emitting an amber luminescence that stretched out for miles, with gentle rolling hills and flat valleys in between. From this vantage point, I could see tiny clusters of structures - towns and villages - and several winding waterways that mirrored the sky as they parted the fields of green and amber. It was stunning.
"You see that steeple?" The Scarecrow pointed into the distance.
It wasn't hard to distinguish which town he was point to… Only one of the towns had a steeple.
"That's Munchkin City, capitol of Munchkinland," he told me.
This awed me further as I eyed the vast distance between my location on the apex of the hill and the steeple in the center of the town where I'd begun my journey.
Had I really traveled so far?
Behind me, I heard the crackle of static and knew Cullen's shape was changing again. But even the oddity of a dog transforming into a sharp-toothed man couldn't move me now.
"I take it we're making camp?" Cullen asked.
I nodded silently and lowered myself back to the ground to watch the sunset. The Scarecrow settled down beside me. Cullen left us but I didn't worry. I could hear him walking about in the woods, doing what I didn't bother to imagine.
The light show was splendid, but it couldn't last. The sun dipped below the land, leaving a flawless star filled sky behind and allowing a crescent moon to take center stage.
I stood up, intending to go find Cullen, but froze in surprise as the Scarecrow's hand shot out and grabbed my ankle in a steel grip. His long fingers wrapped around me like vice, tight and unforgiving and unyielding…
"Hey, let go!" I yelled.
I would have continued to yell but then I noticed his body language. It wasn't just his hand; every muscle in his body was tensed and frozen. His skin had paled slightly and perspiration made an appearance on his brow. His green eyes were widened in unmistakable fear.
"Scarecrow?" I asked, quietly.
His nostrils were slightly flared and he inhaled slowly.
It was then I caught sight of the small orange glow in the trees, controlled but also unmistakable. It was then the breeze drifted toward us, carrying with it the warm, heavy scent of wood smoke. I saw the small lupine figure stretched out before the flames and realized Cullen had been making a camp, just off the trail, complete with campfire.
"Scarecrow, it's just a small campfire," I murmured.
His grip tightened and I bit my lip to keep from calling out as the sharp pain lanced across my ankle.
"I don't like fire."
"You need to let go of me," I hissed.
His eyes snapped to my face and a look of horror transformed his face as he caught the pain on mine.
He released me like I was an electric eel.
"I hurt you!"
I shrugged. "It's fine. Let's go warm up."
I stepped off the road and headed into the woods toward the flames but stopped when I realized I was alone.
I turned and looked back where he stood, alone on the brick pathway, trembling.
The air temperature was dropping rapidly without the sun to maintain the heat, and the fire promised warmth. But he wasn't moving, and I felt a pang of guilt at the thought of leaving him alone in the dark on the side of the road.
"Please?" I asked.
He said nothing. He just stood there. And so I was forced to stand, torn between the desire for my own comfort and the guilt over his.
Finally he moved toward me, slowly, with unsteady steps.
I turned and headed toward the fire sure that he was following now.
Cullen had been busy while we were watching the sunset. He had managed to collect firewood and piled it nearby, along with having had the time to create a small circle of stones to keep the fire contained. I cringed with more guilt; he had done all the work.
I sat down next to the fire and closed my eyes for a moment as my face was bathed in heat. The tinder crackled as the fire burned and a hum of relaxation escaped my throat; there was something oddly peaceful about the sound and I hadn't had much peace today.
I heard the ruffling of clothes and my eyes snapped open.
The Scarecrow clearly didn't agree with my assessment of the fire. He picked a tree by the edge of the clearing, leaned against it and slid down to the ground. He was within sight, but barely so. The light of the small fire couldn't reach him; he was just an unmoving silhouette braced against the tree. His arms were crossed tight against his chest - for warmth or protection? - and his hat had tipped forward over his face but he made no move to fix its position.
I looked at Cullen, in his animal form again.
"Cullen?" I said.
He looked up at me from where he lounged.
"I want to talk to you?" It came out in question form; I was still unsure of what the protocol was when speaking to a Familiar.
I was expecting the air around him to crackle and thrum with energy this time, so it wasn't much of a surprise. But the idea of a grown man emerging from the tiny little fur covered package was still baffling, the sight still astounding as it was unsettling.
I had many questions for him and I wasn't sure where to begin. If he knew what was on my mind he gave no indication, choosing instead to wait silently.
"First things first," I demanded. "Why me?"
He lifted an eyebrow.
"If Familiars are attracted to power," I clarified, "why would you choose me?"
His expression softened a little and he answered with another question, "And why wouldn't I choose you?"
I glared in irritation, which just resulted in his laughter.
"You have power," Cullen replied, with a smile of knowing. "You just don't realize it."
I tried to object but he silenced me with a look.
"I told you before that matters of the flesh concerned me little. I do not care if you are short or tall, fat or skinny, green skinned or battle scarred. I do not deal in the physical; your body is merely a vessel and I see what's inside it. Inside of you, Isabella Marie Swan is a soul. In the metaphysical world, your soul, yours specifically, is powerful. Your species is not equipped to see it, so let me tell you what I see.
"Your soul is like a Sun. Its existence has its own physical force; the souls around yours respond like Moons… Ordinary space junk hurtling through time that become trapped in your gravitational pull, illuminated by your light.
"Some Moons will act as satellites, content to orbit forever in your presence. Some Moons will act as meteors, breaking loose from orbit to crash into you… Whether or not those meteors will carry love or hate, bring destruction or creation… I can't say."
I tried to process this information but it didn't make any sense. I was ordinary. I'd never done anything of worth.
"I don't understand. How could my soul get so powerful?"
"Look at what you do."
"But I don't do anything!"
"No?" Cullen looked smug now. "So you've never stood up for the honor of someone weaker than yourself? Never gone out of your way to be nice to someone who hadn't necessarily earned the kindness, but needed it regardless? You've never tried to mend a broken bridge when it would be simpler to allow decay?"
"She doesn't understand." The Scarecrow's voice came out of the darkness.
I jumped in response; I had all but forgotten him.
Cullen sighed, maybe with frustration. "Bella, it's not always about a big gesture or a moment of fame… Sometimes it's enough to be there for someone in need. When have you ever turned down a friend?"
"So… My soul is powerful… Because I'm nice?"
"Precisely."
"But I'm not always nice," I argued, "I've insulted Rosalie and Jasper and Lauren and I stole a pen from the bank once. It's not like I'm Gandhi!"
Cullen laughed. "First, no one's Gandhi but Gandhi. Second, I have seen you interact with those ruffians. You have never picked a fight; you simply defend yourself, not very well, and then you walk away. Third… I admit the pen thing is a bit sketchy. Aren't those usually chained to the counter?"
"It's not a sturdy chain," I mumbled looking away.
He laughed again. "It was an accident wasn't it?"
I sighed and nodded confirmation. The pen was in my hand and I turned around and snap. Nobody else noticed so…
I heard a snort of laughter from the shadows.
"Shut it, Scarecrow, it's not funny."
"Anything else on your mind?"
"You said you couldn't travel in this form… but clearly you had no trouble setting up camp."
"That's not a question."
I rolled me eyes. "Why can't you travel on two legs instead of four?"
"It isn't a matter of can or cannot. The dog is more convenient."
"For who?" I asked.
"Both of us." Without another word on the subject, his body was changing back into the little Norwegian Lundehund he pretended to be.
He had certainly given me plenty to think over. I lay down next to the fire and closed my eyes, but the sense of peace I'd felt earlier was gone and it wasn't coming back tonight.
Notes: I thought since I've thrown a lot of info, I'd give a quick character clarification for anyone who wants it. As it now stands:
Munchkinland = Ruled by Volturi family= Volturi not mentioned in Forks.
The Good Witch of the North= Esme =the town vet in Forks
The Wicked Witch of the East(deceased)= Lorelle= was Lauren in Forks
The Wicked Witch of the West= The Black Rose = Rosalie Hale in Forks
Cullen(Carlisle)= A Familiar/Spirit Guide= Norwegian Lundehund in Forks
The Scarecrow= "Scarecrow" is an occupation= Edward Masen in Forks
The Irish Coven(mentioned in passing)=owns the cornfield where the Scarcrow works= not mentioned in Forks
Please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts!
Also, I couldn't remember if i'd responded or not to last chapter reviews, lol, so if i forgot, my apologies!
