Arthur watched Kay and Ginny take off together, a wild, open-mouthed grin on his face.
"Look at that." You are in awe. "Look at them. Can you imagine?" You've watched Kay fledge and fly when you go to the cliffs, but seeing her and Ginny together is something different. Kay is happier. It's all over the way she holds herself in flight! Not for the first time, you wish you could be up there, too. "Gareth, do you ever imagine flying like that?"
You glance at him. He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the path before him.
Arthur hooked his thumbs under the pack straps and tugged them to re-adjust. His left arm twitched, jolting him with a mild shock. Irritating, but he didn't have the tools to deal with it so he waited a few seconds for it to stop, then finished his pack adjustments.
They were one hour into the four hour hike back, though it would probably take longer since they were returning uphill. They'd made a lot of purchases, enough that they needed to buy two hiker's packs to carry it all back. It was a little heavier than Artie expected, but he was pretty sure he could make it. He walked on, mulling over the right words to feed Arcturus.
You have another way of communicating with Gareth. He's chosen silence. You should start there.
Artie frowned. Why was Arcturus kicking this back to him? Sign language worked better when two parties weren't walking side by side up uneven terrain. In this situation, it would be easier to talk aloud.
Meanwhile, Gareth will be the one struggling to communicate. You can't just shunt the problem onto him.
Artie blew a defeated sigh out his lips. Yeah. That… that was true.
He shifted the pack again. A loose rock slid out from under his foot and he stumbled a little, catching himself. Gareth paused, but Arthur waved him on. He could wait to talk until… until… a break? Yeah. He'd be needing a break soon.
Not too soon. Maybe halfway back they'd take a break. Then they could have a conversation.
Good plan.
His arm shocked him again.
Ahead of Kay, Ginny beat her wings and slipped into a glide, screeching loud enough to scare off any furry critter interested in keeping its liver to itself. She turned and pulled her wings back, dropping in a perfect stoop that sent her hurtling toward the ground. A few feet from the path, she spread her wings and curved her flight to skim parallel to the ground, then pulled up, beating her wings to climb level with Kay.
Definitely showing off, but it had its intended effect. Kay's cheeks hurt from the smile that stretched them and she fought the urge to creel along with Ginny's joy. It wasn't wise to use her voice where it could still carry back to an inhabited area.
But Ginny! Her flight was breathtaking to see, and Kay knew she could not have taught Ginny all this. Kay was no bird. She was a siren, and therefore flew like a human who had been given wings. Teles had never taught her to stoop for prey. There had been no need. What would she catch prey with, anyway? Her nubby little toes? She laughed at the thought.
Watching Ginny, Kay knew exactly how she would teach someone like her to fly. First, it would be the basics. How to take off. How to land. How to glide. How to climb. Over time, she might be able to introduce a few of the tricks that gave the act a thrilling edge, but at a certain point, she would direct her daughter to study hawks. Watch them. Tail them. Could she talk to them? Kay would have to ask if Ginny knew their language. But only true-born birds could have taught Ginny these techniques.
Kay had never considered her own flight less than satisfactory, but for a moment she wished she could fully enfold herself in feathers and experience a fuller range of aerial maneuverability.
What a gift.
Just as quickly, the flash of envy faded. Her only flying partner had died months ago. The flights from the beachside cliff had become bittersweet, tinged with regret and sorrow. Arthur could not join her, not without hurting himself. Yet here was a promise that, in time, she would have someone to soar with again.
She allowed a soft, sonorous note to escape her lips. Ginny responded with joy, a fearless cry that echoed along the mountainside.
Arthur sank to his knees by the first fallen tree he found, mortified. Coming down the mountain had been so easy, why was he this fatigued by the return?
Second trip. Uphill. Lots of extra weight. Background adjustment is happening all over your body to keep you moving at the same pace as before, and that is costing us. Your body doesn't match your chronological age. Your arm is on the fritz. Take your pick.
He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. He'd hoped he could just… bull through it. That clearly wasn't going to happen. They were only halfway back, and he wasn't sure he could push through another two hours.
Snap snap snap.
He glanced up. Gareth had signaled. You need me to get Mom and Ginny? I can get to them fast and they'll fly back, it won't take long.
Arthur considered. Even if everyone returned to share the load, Arthur was pretty sure he wouldn't make it back before dark. Would it be bad to spend the night out here? Not too bad. There was packaged food and warm clothing in the packs. With Ginny near Kay, he wouldn't need to worry about their safety. Best let Kay know the plan, though.
He shook his head. Go, but tell them I'm spending the night here. I'll finish tomorrow at my own pace. Care to join me?
Gareth straightened. Really? Totally! Don't move! Back in a flash!
A flash, indeed, of fox fur and gleaming teeth. Then Arthur was alone. He rolled his shoulder and stretched his back, then snagged the pack closer. Time to manage supplies for the night.
Kay flopped to the ground in front of the shack, rolling onto her back. The grass was so long it curled over her. She stretched her hands over her head, catching her breath as her feathers melted back into her skin.
Funny. She'd watch it happen a million times, and never once had she connected it with shapeshifting, however limited.
Ginny came in on a slow glide, catching on a fallen branch nearby and folding her wings. She tilted her head, giving a croon. There was nothing musical in the sound, but Kay heard its pleasure. She answered with a warm note of her own.
Good flight indeed.
Ginny's croon changed to a sharp challenge. Kay propped herself up, looking around. Over by the path, a dozen yards back, the grass was parting in a line aimed straight at her. She'd barely scrambled to her feet when a soft melody from the grass assured her who her visitor was. A moment later, Gareth stood on two legs, hurrying over.
Kay waved. "Gareth. Great, you made it." She hesitated. "Where's Arthur?"
Gareth shook his head. Dad had to stop. Got tired.
The exhilaration drained out of Kay. Tired? Tired was the word her husband used when he was exhausted beyond measure, when he couldn't push any further. She clutched her arms, furious with herself for going on ahead and leaving him to carry the load.
A short, broken off cry from Ginny echoed her thoughts. Gareth faltered, but kept his eyes on Kay. Says he's fine, just needs to rest out there, come back slower tomorrow. I'm headed back to stay with him. He just didn't want you to worry.
Kay nodded tightly. "We still have a can of beans and plenty of warm blankets. Take…" she bit her lip on the words. Take care of him. "Take… care out there."
Gareth nodded, then finally turned toward Ginny. Keep her safe. We're counting on you.
Ginny beat her wings and ruffled her feathers, puffing up ferociously.
Gareth gave a half-smile, then turned and hugged Kay. A moment later, the grass parted in a line away from her as a fox fled back down the mountain.
You lean against the log, bundled in that thick wool abomination from the store. You could probably win an ugly sweater contest with this snarl of yarn from the discount rack of a back-ravine mountain town, but it's warm and that's all that matters out here. Plus it fits better than the oversized flannel shirt from the cabin.
Once Gareth returns, the two of you can share a package of jerky and then, maybe, have that conversation.
The wind changes directions. A scent wafts past and you cease breathing. Very close. Something unusually dark. Something hungry. Whatever it is, it is hunting you. It is far weaker than you, but could have done a great deal of harm had it taken you by surprise. Slowly, deliberately, you turn your head and stare over your shoulder into the dark. You see nothing, but the smell is stronger in that direction.
A light glamour, that your face appears to elongate into a set of canine jaws, parted in a growl that is all too real. Fear laces the hunter's scent, which immediately begins to fade. It received the message.
The glamour faded, leaving Arthur's vision tilting. He rested his head back against the log, trying to steady his senses. Ever since Mystery had shown up, Arthur had been spending his abilities, even easier ones, at every perceived need. He didn't want to know the total cost anymore. What was the point? How else was he supposed to ward off threats? Even this weaker threat wouldn't have left if he hadn't frightened it off.
It would have attacked, and we would have had to expend even more energy. The lesser energy cost was justified.
How many costs would be justified in the future? How often would he have to turn to Arcturus to solve the problem?
Is this why we are dying in Ginny and Gareth's time?
Snapping. By his ear. He blinked, and Gareth's face swam into view. How long had Gareth been back? Arthur slowly pushed himself up. Gareth had already cleared an area and built a fire, which crackled by Arthur's feet. Gareth snapped again for Arthur's attention. Are you okay? You spaced out, and I smelled something nasty from some tracks nearby.
Losing time like this was dangerous. He needed to rest. Arthur's head wobbled back and forth, he was fine. Something wanted to bite off more than it could chew. Scared it off. Shouldn't bother us again.
Gareth's expression collapses in on itself, then smoothes out. There it is, again. Something disturbs him. Something you said? You reach your hand out, but he's already turned back to the fire, adding a branch from a nearby pile. The fire didn't need more fuel, but it accepts indiscriminately, leaping higher.
Arthur let his arm drop. Was he supposed to push Gareth to talk or let it go? How were you supposed to tell? For all the extra time Gareth had spent with them, Ginny was worlds easier for Arthur to read. Everything was out in the open with her. Gareth...
Tired. The whole of us is tired, body and mind. This will not be resolved right now.
So Arthur tossed Gareth a package of jerky. Tore open his own package with his teeth. Chewed on a teriyaki flavored strip of cheap dried beef. Wondered if Kay would have had more luck coaxing the problem out of Gareth.
Ginny stormed back and forth in front of the cabin, trailing smoke and green sparks. "He's always tired!" she shouted. "First time we ever saw him not-tired was when you guys came back from your long stay at Uncle Dib's, and he didn't trust us then so we couldn't get close to him. Now we finally get to have some good time and he's starting to look like we've always seen him, and he's getting tired! I didn't know his hair was yellow until now! How do we make him stop…" she jerked her hands around, searching for the right words. "... DOING stuff? Stuff that makes him old and tired?"
Kay sat on the porch, staring up at the star-strewn sky and brilliant moon, wishing she had the right words to answer Ginny with. Instead, the words she had were angry questions along the exact same lines. Why won't he stop? Doesn't he know I need as much time with him as we can get? Does he not care? How do I convince him to stop using himself up? Do I just order it?
She shook her head, lips compressed against the words. No answers.
The trail of sparks stopped for a moment, then Ginny pelted toward her, grabbing her arms. "Just tell him not to!" she pleaded. "You can do it, or Gareth could do it! I can't do anything about it, but you can make him stop!"
Kay sucked in a breath. Yes, she could do something about it, couldn't she? But did this situation warrant overriding his will? Would it do him more damage down the line if he felt he had to strive against her order? Would he be eternally finding loopholes that she would have to sew up with her words, one at a time? Would he stop trusting her? Would he feel enslaved, then? Bound?
She dropped her face into her hands. She needed to talk to him. Or maybe Lewis. Lewis always knew… but he wasn't here, and there was no cell reception on the mountain, and she was the adult, now. A parent.
"Mom, I'm sorry, I didn't… I…" small hands ran through her hair. "M'sorry. When I say stuff like that, Gareth says I can't understand. Didn't mean to make you sad. I'm just..."
"Mad," Kay said softly, pulling Ginny into her arms. "Mad at him, and scared, and sad, right? I know, I know. Me too."
Ginny nuzzled her face into the crook of Kay's neck, holding tight.
The moonlight dimmed for a moment. Immediately, Ginny planted her feet on the porch and yanked Kay off it. The two tumbled to the ground as wood splintered behind them. Ginny bolted to her feet, then sprang into the sky as a hawk, crying challenge to the shadow on the porch.
Kay saw a pair of reflective eyes turn toward her. She extended her talons, rolling up to her feet. If this thing had dropped from above, it was a natural flyer and her own wings would only be a hindrance. The reflective gaze dropped down from the porch, prowling closer.
Green light bathed the scene for a split second. The shadow closed its eyes, recoiling from the light a moment before giant talons smashed into it, raking through black-feathered flesh. The creature shrieked, scrabbling claws against its assailant. A giant, skeletal bird grasped its wings, tearing at them. Green flame ran down the bones, scorching the captive creature.
Kay crouched, frozen in place. That was Ginny.
The creature broke free and fled, floundering through the grasses and trailing a limp wing. Ginny screeched after it, spreading bony wings wider than the hunting cabin, but did not pursue it. The giant head tilted, eyeing the green flames beginning to catch the grass, and swept a wing across the flames, gathering them like a roll of lint and absorbing them.
Kay tilted her head back to meet the gaze of this giant, skeletal creature. So similar to another… but this one had her daughter's green eyes, not a mocking ball of light set in hollow sockets.
She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking. Of course she could never order Arthur to stop using his abilities. If he saw a threat and he'd been ordered not to defend against it, it would tear his mind apart.
Little arms wrapped around her waist. Kay knelt down to hold Ginny. Kay felt her daughter trembling and held her tighter. There was nothing to say.
Arthur didn't have to open his eyes to know he'd been out much longer than planned. The air was warm and insects chirred and whirred all around. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, and a fox tumbled off his chest with a yip.
You blink, trying to focus your eyes. "Gareth, I'm… were you there all night?"
Gareth doesn't answer, prowling a few paces off. You rub the dry, bleary feeling out of one eye at a time as you gather your bearings. You are shaded from behind by a hastily erected, rickety wall of branches and stones. No smoke rises from the ashen remains of last night's fire. Your prosthetic lies nearby, panel closed. You can't remember whether you took it off and tried to fix it or just passed out after eating. In either case, you're pretty sure you didn't have the talk you've been trying to have since the hike back started.
Gareth resumed a human shape, grabbing a pack and slinging it over his shoulders. He eyed Arthur, jerking his head toward the path.
With a frown, Arthur reached over and scooped up his prosthetic, clicking it in place. It jolted him hard and froze up. Arthur gently whacked it with his right hand and it loosened up, allowing him to turn to Gareth and sign, Are you mad at me?
Gareth's jaw tightened and he turned his face toward the path. His fingers stayed hooked on the backpack straps.
"What did I do wrong?" you press the question aloud since he isn't looking at you. He jerks one shoulder up to his ear and drops it down, then starts down the path.
That went well.
Discouraged, Artie shouldered the pack and stood. Still a little light-headed, but he felt much better this morning—afternoon. Definitely afternoon.
In spite of the stony silence from Gareth, Arthur found himself enjoying the trek back. On the way down, the conflict between the twins and the call he needed to make to Lewis and Vivi hung heavy on him. The conflicts were still there, but now he could look beyond the path at his feet. He passed a wild berry thicket, netted all over with silken spiderwebs. Pebbles skittered off in miniature landslides away from his feet. Inside a fallen tree trunk, he caught sight of a fungus formation so bizarre, he had to drag Gareth back to see it. Ahead, the rival mountain peaks loomed, blanketed in summer shades of green. The very tips were streaked white, and Arthur wondered how high they rose.
And Gareth began to point to interesting rock formations they passed, or tracks by the path. Once, he scented the air and pulled Arthur off the path to see a ptarmigan nest, hidden in a tangle of long grass and brambles.
When they came to a rivulet that sliced across their path, they stopped to drink and fill their canteens with the crisp mountain water. Arthur lightly flicked some water at Gareth, who mock-glared at him before scooping his hand through the water, flinging it in Arthur's face.
Oh. It is on.
The day was warm and the breeze playful. Kay used the stiff broom to clear out the blackened patches of grass, clean the firepit, and scour the cabin floor. Bits of wooden debris were plucked from the newly collapsed section of the porch and added to the firewood stack. Ginny flew in from time to time, dropping fresh kills on the floor. Squirrels, rabbits, the occasional grouse. If the boys got back on time, they'd all eat well that evening.
"They'd better get back soon," Kay muttered. "They're carrying all the spices. I can make a real feast with this."
From the floor of the cabin, the little prairie hawk cocked her head, blinking up at Kay. She cawed twice, spreading her wings and folding them.
Kay hesitated. "I don't know what that means. But. Would you…" she glanced out the open door. "Could you check on them? See how far out they are. Make sure they're okay?"
Ginny waddled out to the top step and took off from there, picking up speed on the downhill incline before climbing higher into the sky.
Kay picked up the new kill and set to cleaning it. The boys were fine. They were fine. She was just… worried. Hard not to be. If Ginny was her backup, Arthur had to be Gareth's. If he had to fight anything…
She remade the bed for the fifth time and re-organized the shelves for the fourth time. They had plenty of fuel for the oven tonight. All the cookware was washed. She stood there, twisting the wedding band on her finger, picturing, for a moment, what it would look like if the boys weren't as fine as they most likely were.
Ginny stuck her head in the door and waved. "Hey! They're just down the path. Almost here!" Her grin froze for a moment. "Oh. They're almost here. They're almost here! Mom! I didn't clean up the fight. Dad will smell everything!"
Kay blinked, caught between relief and confusion. "Smell… everything?"
"The monster. Oh, I'm… did I do… was it the right…" She stuck her fingers in her mouth, biting them, eyes wide. She kept talking, muffled by her fingers. "I didn't finish it. He says you gotta, or it could come back. Oh. He'll be mad."
Before Kay could respond, she heard a welcome voice calling faintly, "Hey! Anybody home? It's been a long hike and we're starved."
The rest of Kay's anxiety melted away. She leaped down the porch steps and crossed the field like her feet had wings. She saw him at the end of the path, hunched forward under the heavy pack, but with a smile that took up his whole face.
Arthur.
She slowed just enough to keep from bowling him over, diving into his open arms.
"Hey. Hey. Missed you too. Just one night, though. You okay?" He paused, sniffing. His spine stiffened. "Are you okay?" he asked, with greater urgency.
"Fine," Kay answered. "Ginny took care of it. She thinks you'll be mad she did it wrong, but she was amazing. Here," she tugged at the straps of his pack. "Give me that."
Arthur let her take the pack, his eyebrows pulled together and his eyes trained on the cabin. Once free of the pack, he hurried on ahead, his head thrust forward at an odd angle, nose-first.
A hand tapped Kay's arm, and she glanced down to see Gareth looking up with a great deal of worry. That thing came here? Hurt you?
Kay shook her head. "Ginny scared it off. We're fine. You?"
Gareth's face fell. Dad scared it off. I wasn't there to keep him from doing stuff.
Kay sighed. "That's the hot topic lately. I don't think there is any stopping him, Gareth. Pretty sure it will mess with his head even worse."
Gareth nodded glumly, clearly full of the same conclusion. Kay put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on. We have all kinds of fresh meat. There's some good spices in these packs. Let's get cooking."
Its scent is all over the area. It stalked them. Waited. Hunted them. It was here. It was here and it threatened Kay, and you were not here. The recrimination only lasts a moment before the rest of the story filters in through your nose.
Scorched earth. Burnt grasses. There's a large hole in the porch. The smell of flesh being charred off. Blood. It left quickly, broken by the fight. It will probably recover, though.
You raise your head, catching sight of Ginny, peeking fearfully around the edge of the door frame. In that moment, you know what you would teach her. You know that you would teach her to finish the job, because we both know how dangerous the dark creatures are. You don't give them second chances to hunt you, not ever.
But Ginny was ten. Ten years old, and she successfully defended herself and her mother.
Your instincts were correct. It was safe to leave Kay with Ginny as her guard.
You reach for Artie's experience with gentleness to set your tone. "First time?"
The little sliver you can see of her face nods itself. "Not counting Mystery," she mumbled. "Was trying not to hurt him too bad."
You mount the steps and tug on her arm, kneeling down to eye level with her. Gentle, but also firm. You will not have her fall prey to something she could easily take down. "You don't give them second chances to come back. You make sure you're the hunter. Not them. Understand?"
She nods, wobbly, unable to meet your eyes.
"But you protected your Mom. Just like I knew you would."
She peeks up.
You smile. "Why do you think I let myself camp out on the trail? If I didn't think you could handle it, I'd have busted my tail getting back last night. Good job, Ginny."
Her smile lights up the whole cabin, and her burst of pride is a glorious scent in the air.
Note: My thanks for the extra eyes, Pipefoxesonthemoon! Our heroes don't really need to figure out what that creature was since it won't be showing its face to them ever again, but if anyone's curious, I based it off the Wiki entry about Strix (mythology). Chapter title excerpted from Never Look Away by Vienna Teng.